Chapter 18 - The Mercy Cage

The eighteenth chapter of our thriller novel, in which Emily attempts to wash her discovery away - or can she?

Emily- New York City, 1945

***Select chapters are free!

Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 // Chapter 13// Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17

My quivering hand reaches for the brass handle of the clawfoot tub. I am surprised that it turns under the frailty of my grip. I drop the stopper into the tub drain and float away towards the sink. I move to wash my hands before undressing out of habit before realizing how very silly that is. My chin drops to my chest and I examine the soil stains, small  streaks of blood, and debris adorning my nightgown. I lift my eyes to the mirror at the sink and stare past myself to the long clinical windows along the wall. When I first saw the restroom, I noticed the good natural light they let in. Now all I see is how they remind me of the hospital I visited Mother in once when her health began to fade. I blink and turn away from their reflection.  I grab ahold and pull my nightgown straight over my head and walk towards the tub, letting it fall to the tile floor. That is all I can bother with.

I plant my hands on the side of the tub to keep myself steady as I step one foot then the other into the water. It is somewhere between tepid and warm. Wary that in my state I may slip, I slowly lower myself to seated with my hands still gripping the sides of the tub. I keep my feet planted, in readiness that I may need to get out quickly. How silly. Is it? I can’t be  sure. I feel the water fill and lift the cotton of my knickers as I submerge. My mind feels empty, I can’t seem to think of anything. I hear the crash of the water filling the tub around me. I lower my eyes to the rising surface of the water and see flecks of debris and grass. I roll my eyes away- I’m not interested in recounting any part of what just happened to me moments ago. The water tickles my arms as it rises, my chemise dancing around in it. It is not unpleasant, but sensation of any kind feels like an attack on my nerves, so I reach over and turn the valve to stop the water. 

A sharp deep breath fills my chest. Sudden silence has sent my heart racing. I sit in anticipation of some whisper from the hall, or -God forbid- another strike of that shovel from beyond the windows. I double over to reach and twist the handle again. The deep hum of the water crashing into itself soothes me and I release the air I’ve been holding. The water seems warmer now, too, and comforting. I let myself lean back into the crook of the tub and feel my body fall deeper until my hips meet my feet. My heart rate seems to be slowing now, so I step my feet further down the tub and let myself fall further. I inch this way until I feel the other side of the tub brush my toes, and I take a final deep breath before allowing myself to sink, lowering my head below. My eyes, still vacant, stare at the ceiling which stretches and warps through the veil of the water. I let my lids lower and listen in blackness to the hum of the running faucet. The sound wraps me, almost like an embrace. I could stay here forever if not for air. My eyes flick open and I wonder how long I can stay comforted here before I must breathe. The distorted ceiling dances and I let my eyes close once more, seeking the darkness.

Next Chapter - Chapter 19