Chapter 17: House
Our classes were canceled for some reason so I decided to devote today to taking care of the house. I've cooked lunch already, so my goals for today are: to clean up the house.
It's been a month or so since I haven't completely deep-cleaned the house. I vacuum it every other day, but I normally leave out the ceilings and the walls, but I notice they have dust accumulating on them for a couple of weeks.
-
I wipe a sweat off my brow as I finish vacuuming the carpet in the living room. Anita changes the entire carpet of the house every other season so that, and I quote, " the house doesn't become bland."
Speaking of which, it's been a whole week since that incident. Anita has been pretty nice as of late. I'm not being greeted with a beating right at the door when she comes home. She's stopped snapping at me for the smallest of things and doesn't demand to see my phone every night we go to sleep.
A deep sigh escapes my lips, carrying the weight of the emotional turmoil. I know I hurt her when I threatened her with a divorce, but it was for her own good, seeing how she's improved from that night. She just needed that fear of me leaving her, even if it meant I had to see her painful expression.
"whatever...", I mutter before moving onto her room.
The luxurious white-creamy carpet bristles against my feet as it stretches along the whole floor. Some would even call this a living room seeing how big it is. Anita has a huge watch collection hiding behind two glass doors indented into the wall. She has multiple fancy watches ranging from old-school classics to modern-day watches, that would make heads turn as one walks down the street with them hanging on their wrists. Anita has this weird habit of splurging on random items impulsively.
"If I see something I like, I buy it! Simple as that!~", I remember Anita's words when I was convincing her that we did not need yet ANOTHER golden watch at a brand store.
I squint my eyes as I lift the watch encased in its pristine display like it's a sworn enemy of mine. I proceed to clean the watches too, with a microfiber cloth before putting them all back in their places and closing the door.
Her room is painted with a light tone of gray, almost mirroring the color of the carpet. As I switch on the vacuum, it makes a low-tone whirring sound, before the vacuum comes to life, making contact with the floor. I make sure to get each and every corner of the room. I even do it twice, so I don't miss anything.
phew
The only thing left is cleaning under the bed. I remember getting a whole lot of dust under here the last time I cleaned it. Since the bed leaves a really thin space underneath, I switch out the long head of the machine with a narrow wide head, and I let the machine do its job.
-
*thud*
"The fuck?", I whisper under my breath.
The vacuum cleaner just made a weird sound like it just hit something metal.
I gulp before putting my knees down and kneeling on the ground to see what's down there.
I don't see anything, as it's pitch black down there, so I extend my hand down and push myself against the bedframe, and there I feel it. It DEFINITELY is metal. I claw my fingers around it and push it to my side. It slides out and I see it as a whole: It resembles a mint box but seems to be made out of tin. It seems to have been degraded as the white paint brushes away slightly after rubbing my fingers on it. It looks a bit bigger than the normal ones you'd get at a store, though.
I cautiously open it. Seeing the contents inside, a shock runs through my veins, before they feel oddly cold to the point where they hurt near my wrists. Even though it's winter, I start feeling sweaty, and worried. Right before my eyes lay a collection of my own photos staring right back at me. No, these aren't the ones that I paid someone to make a collage of me, no, these look like they've been taken without my knowledge...
"Anita...you wouldn't go this far, right?", I whisper to myself.
I flip through the photos one by one, with unease and fear etched into my mind now. In some photographs, I'm jogging while wearing headphones, showing only the back of my head, like the taker of the shot was just waiting for me. In others, I'm seen talking to my friends and laughing with them. I turn the photo, but a slight graving at the back of it catches my attention. I see the date,
"17th February, 2022"
The heavy silence in the room amplifies the weight of this discovery. I stand up toss the box with its contents on the bed and remove my phone from my pocket instantly.
I recall when we first time we met and bumped into each other, Anita forced me to take a photo of both of us together, even though it was weird. I went ahead with it because I felt like I was obligated to do it. Keep in mind, this is the first time I've ever met her.
"please....you aren't THIS crazy...right?", I mutter as I walk back and forth nervously in the room trying to go up the camera roll before I scroll right past it.
"ah!", I gasp and go down a bit below, before putting my finger on the image.
I take a deep breath, and I double tap on it. In the photo, Anita seems to have a friendly smile, while I clearly have a forced smile sitting next to her. She's wearing a low-cut top, showing off a bit of her cleavage, and her shoulders are just brushing up against mine. I still remember the adorable almond smell of her hair.
"NONONO!", I shake my head dismissively seeing that I got distracted.
I move on from the photo before hovering my finger over the small information button on the photo. I gulp, and I push onto the phone, before praying that it's not what I think it is. I search for the date, and it reads:
My grip tightens up involuntarily as I feel rage brewing up inside me. My hand starts to ache and I feel like I could crush the phone with sheer rage. I bite down on my teeth and the sides of my face and jaws start to hurt.
I can't believe it.
*ding*
My breath hitches and I slightly jump up as I hear the doorbell ring. It echoes throughout the house, ringing my ears slightly. I glance at the clock, and it reads 2 p.m.
"This won't be her, so I should be good.", I snicker to myself.
I groan and put the cover on the tin box letting it stay on the bed before I slouch out the room. I keep the vacuum cleaner in the living room and I open the door with a grumpy face, but it shifts to a mix of surprise and fear as I greet the visitor standing right in front of me.
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