Entangled
(Minor Edits. First Published in the The Aurora Journal Spring 2021 Issue- https://www.theaurorajournal.org/spring-2021-volume/entangled
Suggested Song Pairing- Mino's Run Away )
Entangled
I pulled my coat tightly around me as I got out of my car, the driveway blanketed in fresh snow. Before me was the craftsman style house of the woman I once knew. She had been everything to me, a hope in my darkest time. I started up the walkway, but the soft, warm light that emanated from the large window invited me to walk away from the path.
My boots sunk slightly into the snow as the grass underneath gave way. I stopped in front of the window and looked in. I could see the fireplace and cozy leather wingback chairs in the sitting area, a side table between the two. The fireplace and a dim standing lamp lit the world inside. I imagined her surprise and happiness to see me here. I could almost see her face smiling in my mind, but the house seemed empty. A moment later, her figure came into view as she walked from the kitchen area and around the dining table. My eyes analyzed everything about her, the forlorn look on her face and messy hair, the half-full highball glass in her hand.
I forgot about the cold and watched as she dropped into the wingback chair furthest from me, liquor sloshing from her cup. She sat there, her body more hunched over than straight as she gazed into the fire. Then she set the glass on the table next to her before resting her arms on the chair.
I could hear the faint sound of music drifting out into the night. It sounded surreal, like a keyboard or synthesizer. The song crescendoed as the staccato beat pulsated through the air. The look on her face went blank, as though she had become hollow. My heart began to beat against my chest as fear overcame me. Something wasn't right, but my body didn't move. Her head dropped and I was paralyzed—the only thing I knew was my confusion and the music. The music that seemed to scream in my ears: Run.
My eyes stayed glued to her. I couldn’t help but watch in terror as her left arm jerked sharply towards me, propelling the glass across the room. The sound of glass shattering on the floor broke me. I leapt forward and started banging my hands against the window, my thick gloves muffling the sound. I felt myself mouth words, but I couldn’t hear them. I could only hear the music.
Either she didn’t hear me or she ignored me, because she didn’t lift her head. I stopped, knowing that my actions were futile. Letting my arms return to my side, I stared in at her as she slowly brought her arm back to herself.
Her body began to move as though she were being lifted from her chair. She stood before the chair, unmoving, but a second later, her limp body began to lurch in one direction and then another with every down beat. The movements were oddly precise, nearly calculated, but clearly not being made by her. Her right shoulder jerked forward, moving her body to the left. Her feet seemed to drag as her body continued to be pulled by some invisible force. When the singer would cry, her head would emphasize each note: left, right, up, down.
If I were feeling anything, any emotion or physical discomfort, I wasn’t aware. I had dissolved into the night. The only thing I noticed of myself was that my breathing and heartbeat had synced up to her movements, to the music. I could feel myself giving up or giving in and my body tried desperately to warn me. Tears filled my eyes, blurring the woman inside. I could hardly make out movements as the music disappeared. Though I could not see her looking at me, I could feel her eyes on me. I knew her look.
Her body stayed suspended in the air for a second before she fell heavy to the ground. I could hear my screams—my voice escaped my throat. My hands beat against the window as tears rolled down my cheeks, but my feet didn't move. I saw my hands hitting the glass. My movements were rhythmic. No matter how I tried to change the pattern, it was always the same. I could hear the song’s beat in my head—I could feel it in my soul. My heart fell in my chest as I sank to the ground. As I kneeled there, the snow melted and seeped through my pants, letting the cold in, but an eerie calm had settled over me though my body began to shake from the cold. When they came, I didn't hear the sounds of morning or see the faint sunlight lift the darkness.
It wasn’t until I heard the creaking of the door that I moved. I slowly lifted my head, allowing it to drift towards the door. My face was chapped and stung. I looked blankly at the woman as she stood there with her half-empty glass in hand and called to me. I pushed my body up from the ground and stumbled to the door, my knees and legs in pain. I didn’t speak but merely walked into the house, too lost in myself to think. I could hear the sound of the door close behind me and the faint sound of music.
I pulled my coat tightly around me as I got out of my car, the driveway blanketed in fresh snow. Before me was the craftsman style house of the woman I once knew. She had been everything to me, a hope in my darkest time. I started up the walkway, but the soft, warm light that emanated from the large window invited me to walk away from the path.
My boots sunk slightly into the snow as the grass underneath gave way. I stopped in front of the window and looked in. I could see the fireplace and cozy leather wingback chairs in the sitting area, a side table between the two. The fireplace and a dim standing lamp lit the world inside. I imagined her surprise and happiness to see me here. I could almost see her face smiling in my mind, but the house seemed empty. A moment later, her figure came into view as she walked from the kitchen area and around the dining table. My eyes analyzed everything about her, the forlorn look on her face and messy hair, the half-full highball glass in her hand.
I forgot about the cold and watched as she dropped into the wingback chair furthest from me, liquor sloshing from her cup. She sat there, her body more hunched over than straight as she gazed into the fire. Then she set the glass on the table next to her before resting her arms on the chair.
I could hear the faint sound of music drifting out into the night. It sounded surreal, like a keyboard or synthesizer. The song crescendoed as the staccato beat pulsated through the air. The look on her face went blank, as though she had become hollow. My heart began to beat against my chest as fear overcame me. Something wasn't right, but my body didn't move. Her head dropped and I was paralyzed—the only thing I knew was my confusion and the music. The music that seemed to scream in my ears: Run.
My eyes stayed glued to her. I couldn’t help but watch in terror as her left arm jerked sharply towards me, propelling the glass across the room. The sound of glass shattering on the floor broke me. I leapt forward and started banging my hands against the window, my thick gloves muffling the sound. I felt myself mouth words, but I couldn’t hear them. I could only hear the music.
Either she didn’t hear me or she ignored me, because she didn’t lift her head. I stopped, knowing that my actions were futile. Letting my arms return to my side, I stared in at her as she slowly brought her arm back to herself.
Her body began to move as though she were being lifted from her chair. She stood before the chair, unmoving, but a second later, her limp body began to lurch in one direction and then another with every down beat. The movements were oddly precise, nearly calculated, but clearly not being made by her. Her right shoulder jerked forward, moving her body to the left. Her feet seemed to drag as her body continued to be pulled by some invisible force. When the singer would cry, her head would emphasize each note: left, right, up, down.
If I were feeling anything, any emotion or physical discomfort, I wasn’t aware. I had dissolved into the night. The only thing I noticed of myself was that my breathing and heartbeat had synced up to her movements, to the music. I could feel myself giving up or giving in and my body tried desperately to warn me. Tears filled my eyes, blurring the woman inside. I could hardly make out movements as the music disappeared. Though I could not see her looking at me, I could feel her eyes on me. I knew her look.
Her body stayed suspended in the air for a second before she fell heavy to the ground. I could hear my screams—my voice escaped my throat. My hands beat against the window as tears rolled down my cheeks, but my feet didn't move. I saw my hands hitting the glass. My movements were rhythmic. No matter how I tried to change the pattern, it was always the same. I could hear the song’s beat in my head—I could feel it in my soul. My heart fell in my chest as I sank to the ground. As I kneeled there, the snow melted and seeped through my pants, letting the cold in, but an eerie calm had settled over me though my body began to shake from the cold. When they came, I didn't hear the sounds of morning or see the faint sunlight lift the darkness.
It wasn’t until I heard the creaking of the door that I moved. I slowly lifted my head, allowing it to drift towards the door. My face was chapped and stung. I looked blankly at the woman as she stood there with her half-empty glass in hand and called to me. I pushed my body up from the ground and stumbled to the door, my knees and legs in pain. I didn’t speak but merely walked into the house, too lost in myself to think. I could hear the sound of the door close behind me and the faint sound of music.
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