The moon seemed strangely bright tonight. Its too-bright light embraced the droplets of water as they rushed over the mountain, only to find itself shattered into pieces as the water crashed and boomed on the rocks. How could anyone in the house by the waterfall sleep with this tragedy of love and destruction reverberating in their head all night long?
The house by the waterfall. It drew her. It whispered to her.
“Lilith.”, it whispered in soft sweet lullaby tones. “Lilith, come.”
“I am coming”, she answered, and began to walk. She was a lifeless marionette, and the house controlled her strings. It pulled her forward, promising warmth and light and love.
She reached the weed-choked yard and stood for a moment, observing the waterfall and its tragic love affair with the moonlight.
Poor moonlight. She knew what it was to be betrayed and shattered into a million tiny pieces.
“Lilith, come”, the house pleaded.
She shook the droplets of water from her mind and turned toward the house, the weeds and dead leaves crunching under her feet. The house wanted her.
A wind started up, carrying whispers over the shouts of the waterfall.
He can’t find out.
They all think I’m crazy. I’ll show them. I’ll show them who’s crazy.
I can’t take this much longer.
This will work, I know.
“Lilith, please hurry.”
The house called to her, promising to put all of her broken bits back together. She could have the water without the fall. All she had to do was come inside.
The door easily gave way and she stepped on to the hardwood floor. It creaked and groaned under her weight. The house was so cold. So very cold.
There was a little girl coming down the stairs. She was the one who was making it cold.
Lilith instantly hated her. The house loved her. The house wanted her to be warm. The girl was making it cold. She wanted it warm!
Suddenly a picture appeared in her mind – a picture of the house as it once had been. The fire had broken past the bounds of the fireplace, and it was very warm indeed.
Had the girl shown that to her?
“Was that you? That picture in my head? Were you here when that happened?”
The girl stood mutely in front of Lilith. She was cold, but her eyes burned.
Another image appeared in Lilith’s mind. It was Sarah, screaming and scared as the fire grew.
“Is the woman in the picture you showed me your mother?”
The girl walked by Lilith, looking at her with glowing eyes. She didn’t speak, but Lilith knew that the girl wanted her to follow.
She turned and followed the little girl out of the house. The cold also followed. Lilith shivered.
The little girl walked around the house and to the backyard. She was heading towards a circle of old stone.
It was so cold. So very very cold. As cold as the grave.
For a little girl, she certainly had a deep voice. Maybe that’s why she didn’t talk much.
It was also a familiar voice.
She woke up suddenly, the familiar voice having called her back to reality.
“Jason, you are going to tell me what you’re doing here. Then you are going to give me your key. Then you are going to leave. Okay?”
“Lilith, Shannon’s dead.”