PORTRAIT
Tom Arbino
Megan became alarmed when a floorboard creaked, for it happened on the other side of the attic. Her heart raced as she gazed across the room, seeing nothing but boxes and other items. She glanced at her friend Ellen, and the look upon her face told her that someone else was in the loft with them. She felt certain that another person lurked in that garret and she knew that she had to approach the spot where she heard the disturbance.
After swallowing with some discomfort, she stepped forward. Her eyes focused in on the cartons stacked three high, and in her mind she could see someone stooping behind them. A thin layer of perspiration covered her body, making her skin feel cold and clammy. She tried to convince herself that it was just her imagination, but the ripening fear in her gut told her otherwise.
She came to the brink of being able to see behind the boxes, knowing that she had to go beyond them and see what was there. Before she could take another step, the single bare bulb that lit the room went out. She felt tightness in her chest, making her breathing difficult. In the next moment, the light came back on. As her eyes focused in on the packages, one of her cats leaped out. She flinched and moved to the side, allowing the feline to scoot past her. While forcing herself to gaze behind the cartons, she saw nothing. She said, “Molly doesn’t weigh enough to make the floor creak like that.”
“Nobody’s here but us,” Ellen said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. God she scared the hell out of me,” Megan said. She was nineteen, had long frizzy black hair, a round face, and a button nose. She was chubby, though most of her weight gravitated around her thighs. She wore casual clothing, many rings and bracelets, and an Y chain. She owned three cats.
“What’s that?” Ellen wondered.
“What’s what?”
“What fell out from behind the boxes?”
“I don’t think anythingÉ” Megan began, seeing a picture frame lying to the side of the boxes.
Ellen walked up to Megan, and then said. “What is that?”
“I-I don’t know.” Megan grabbed the picture frame. When she turned it around so that she could look at it, she gasped and dropped the wooden structure. Her eyes were drawn into the portrait painted on the canvass, and what she witnessed startled her. The name at the bottom of the image said ROSEMARY. Rosemary’s eyes were intensely focused, and her gaze frightened Megan. Rosemary wore an old nineteenth century dress, had tied back dirty blond hair, a stern face, and appeared to be in her late thirties.
“Is she a relative?” Ellen asked. She was eighteen, geeky, had long blond hair and a big nose. Her clothes hung in a baggy style about her hips.
Megan couldn’t take her eyes from the picture, perceiving an uneasy feeling welling up inside of her. She said, “I-I think we should go d-downstairs.”
“So who is she?”
“I don’t know. She must be related to me somehow.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s had much sex.”
“People back then didn’t. They only did it when they were married and then only to have kids.” Megan set the portrait sideways in between two boxes, shuddering as she did do. She heard Molly hiss and then watched the cat run away from the picture frame with its hair standing up and its tail stiff. She said, “Molly. Come here. Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
Megan gazed about the attic, seeing her cat nowhere. The loft, which measured twenty-five by fifty, had a hardwood floor and dark brown tongue and groove planks that made up each sloping wall. A trapdoor had a retractable ladder attached to it, which unfolded into the kitchen. Boxes, trunks, and Christmas decorations filled the entire area, leaving only a narrow aisle in which to walk beneath the apex of the roof.
“Wasn’t the trapdoor open?” Ellen asked.
“I don’t know.” Megan tried to repress her shivering so that Ellen didn’t see it.
“Molly must still be up here.”
“We have to find her because I want to get out of here.”
“I think sheÉ” Ellen began.
Just then, something came crashing down behind her. Panic surged through her chest, making her senses alive. As she turned around, she saw someone standing there in her mind. A wooden object lied in the aisle, and it was far too big to have fallen by itself. While focusing on the item, Molly ran up to her from behind, and she curled around her feet while purring. She picked the cat up, and then puffed. “Molly, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Y-You got molly. Let’s g-go,” Ellen said.
“In a minute.” Megan approached the fallen object. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and they sent nervous energy throughout her system. When she got to within two feet of the item, she gasped. Molly leaped from her arms, running off and disappearing somewhere behind her. She stared at her grandmother’s clock, which was smashed into several pieces. She knew that the timepiece was kept in a trunk, and that chest was sitting on the floor.
She saw that the wood was smashed to pieces, yet the glass that covered the face, although cracked, was still in one piece. While gazing into the glass, she saw the image of Rosemary. She gasped and felt faint, staggering backwards a step.
“What is it?” Ellen asked in an excited tone.
Megan looked about in a frantic manner, and then said. “Where is Molly?”
“I don’t know. What’s going on?”
“We have to get out of here.”
“What about Molly?”
“We’ll find her later.” Megan raced toward the trapdoor, but she became immobilized by what she witnessed. She sensed Ellen grab her and she could experience the terror that raged inside of her just by the feel of her fingertips. Her eyes locked into Rosemary’s gaze, but her mind raced with thoughts of how that portrait came to be hanging on the wall.
She forced herself to move forward, coming to rest right in front of the trapdoor.
She had to close her eyes in order to glance down at the handle, but she had to take a deep breath and hold it before she could grasp it. Panic crushed her as the entry remained in place, becoming worse as the realization that it didn’t have a lock took hold of her. After sucking in her lips, she pounded on it with her fist. She said, “Help me. Somebody please open this door.”
“How can it be locked?” Ellen asked.
“There isn’t even a lock on it. The steps unfold right into the kitchen.”
“Is there something wedged between the steps?”
“They would still unfold if there was. Who even pushed this up here? Nobody’s home but us.”
“Is there another way out of here? There has to be another way out of here.”
“There isn’t.”
“But there has to beÉ” Ellen began.
Just then, she felt a chill upon her back. Alarm caused her to hear the sounds of her every breath, making her senses alive. Deep inside herself, she knew that something formidable loomed behind her. After swallowing in a painful manner, she spun around on shaky knees.
When she saw Rosemary standing there, she thought that she was going to faint. She wanted to run, but the way that Rosemary stared into her eyes immobilized her. Rosemary projected a wicked power at her with her gaze, and the force that it carried raped her of a good portion of her will. Rosemary’s eyes seemed much larger than they were, making her wonder why she was calm when she should be trembling.
“WHY DID YOU CONJURE ME?” Rosemary shouted.
“We never conjured you. Your picture fell out,” Megan said.
“How dare you conjure me.”
“I didn’t.”
“She’s telling the truth. It really was an accident,” Ellen said.
“Are you really a witch? I mean stories are just stories, right?” Megan asked.
She saw Rosemary’s gaze became even more focused, and then Rosemary pointed at Molly. She sensed a lump in her throat, observing Molly become possessed. A bizarre look took hold of the feline, and it turned to glare at her. The calm that took hold of her left her, and a shivering became so pronounced in her that she thought that she was going to break a bone.
In the next moment, Molly leaped up into her face. The cat swiped with its paws, cutting her features up before lunging down and then scampering away. Tears overtook her, causing the sting upon her face to become even more intense. She said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
After wiping her eyes, she witnessed Rosemary point to a trunk. By the time she turned around, she observed a crystal ball rising out of it. The object drifted across the room, coming to rest in Rosemary’s left hand. Rosemary waved her hand over the orb in a counterclockwise manner, resulting in wind swirling about the room. The light flashed, and the floorboards creaked. She held Ellen as the two of them were swept up into the tempest. She whirled around faster and faster, seeing the room spin around her at a fantastic rate. Without warning, she was thrust to the floor. As she wound out of her rotation, she found herself inside the crystal ball.
“This can’t be true,” Ellen said in a stressed tone of voice.
Megan took a moment or so to gain her bearings, and then said. “I think it is.”
“Oh my God.”
Megan watched as Rosemary held the ball up to her face and stared at the two of them. She said, “She really is a witch.”
“What gave that away?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass at a time like this.”
“I’ll fix you for disturbing me,” Rosemary rotated the ball so as to peer right at Megan. “I’ll fix you good.”
“What’s she doing?” Ellen asked.
“I don’t know.” The ball’s movement shocked Megan. She cringed as Rosemary set the crystal on a trunk and then walked away from it. She said, “We have to destroy that picture.”
“And just how do you plan to get out of here?” Ellen asked.
“If we can get it to roll it might break when it falls off the trunk.”
“Wouldn’t we still be small? I don’t really want to be two inches high for the rest of my life.”
“Maybe being out of this ball will break the spell.”
“I don’t know about this.”
“We have to do something.”
“I hope you’re right about this.”
“Stand sideways and we’ll rock it back and forth.”
“We’re going to roll over.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Do you still want to do it?”
Megan gazed into Ellen’s eyes for a moment, and then said. “Yeah. We’ll just kind of wedge in here.”
“The damn thing probably won’t even break.”
Megan grunted as she pushed on the ball in a side to side motion, getting it to move somewhat. With continued effort, she managed to get the ball to move back and forth, but it took better than fifteen minutes to get the orb to roll. The first time the sphere went over, it startled her. Yet she pressed on until it tumbled off of the trunk, landing on the floor hard and cracking. A whirlwind sucked her up into it, affecting her sense of direction. She wasn’t certain what was happening to her or even where she was. In the next moment, her stomach sank, and the exhilaration that went along with it told her that she was falling fast. Before she could entertain another thought, the crystal ball, which had fallen through the open trapdoor, struck the kitchen floor and smashed into pieces. She was spewed out onto the tile, getting bruised up as she went.
It took a moment to realize where she was, and several more were required before she recognized that she was of normal size. While checking herself for injuries, she asked. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Ellen moaned while getting to her feet in a slow style.
Megan rose, brushing a few pieces of glass away with her foot. She said, “We have to go back up there.”
“No way. Let’s get out of here.”
“We have to burn that portrait.”
“I don’t think she’s just going to let us burn it.”
“She went somewhere. Now is the perfect time.”
“She’s not going to let us do it.”
“She thinks that she has us trapped in that crystal ball.”
“Let’s just go. Please Megan?”
“As soon as we toss that picture in the fireplace. It’s only to take us five minutes.”
“She came after us because you messed with that picture.”
“She isn’t even around any more.”
“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this.”
Megan led Ellen back up into the attic, finding everything just where she remembered. When she came to the wall where the portrait hung, shock consumed every inch of her. What she witnessed in front of her ripped at the fabric of her mind, compelling her heart to race faster and faster. As she stared at the canvass, she saw nothing but a white rectangle. The image of Rosemary, along with her name painted at the bottom, was gone.
“I-I’m leaving,” Ellen said.
“I’m coming with you,” Megan said. As she turned around to walk back to the trapdoor, she observed Rosemary standing there waiting for her.
“M-MeganÉ” Ellen began.
Rosemary gazed into Megan’s eyes, making her shudder and grab onto Ellen. Rosemary breathed in deliberate and forceful and puffs, expanding them with each bit of air that she drew. She said, “I conjure the spirit of air, binding it to my will.”
As Megan was about to turn and run for the steps, she heard the trapdoor slam shut. She watched Rosemary swirl her hand about her head in a counterclockwise motion, feeling the air begin to rotate in the room. She said in a panicked tone of voice, “We have to get out of here.”
“Help me get these steps down.” Ellen ran for the steps.
“Oh my God.” Megan struggled to remain on her feet as the wind picked up speed.
“Pray to your God. He isn’t going to save you now,” Rosemary said.
“Megan.” Ellen clung to her.
Before Megan could utter so much as a single word, she was blown to the floor. As she sought a box or something to latch onto, everything went black. Without her knowledge, Molly strolled up to the portrait. The cat sat there and purred, staring at the painting as it hung on the wall. The picture on the canvass was that of Megan and Ellen, and each of them that a look upon their faces that was best not described.
THE END
