A biting chill had started to creep into the dank air of the basement, a chill that deepened with every passing day. Outside, the days were drawing in, becoming gloomier. The light dwindled while the darkness of the night stretched out ominously. The summer had faded into autumn which was now hardening into the bitterness of winter.
Shaking uncontrollably, with shivers racking my body, I pulled my legs tightly into myself. Wrapped my arms around myself in a futile attempt to fend off the ever increasing frigidity. My pink, velvet dress afforded me no protection against the callous Norwegian winter that was descending on the world outside.
The cold seeped into my bones, a gnawing ache that no amount of shivering or huddling could relieve. The concrete floor beneath me was like a sheet of ice, sucking any warmth that I did have in my body away from me. My teeth chattered relentlessly, my fingers and toes tingled, numb and raw.
Surely, Lars would take some sort of pity on me. Every morning, the click of the lock and the creak of the door would cause a tiny flutter of hope to rise in my stomach. Perhaps today would be the day that he would show me compassion, the day that he’d bring me a warm coat and perhaps some blankets. Anything that would help relieve my suffering. Every morning those same thoughts would pass through my head. But every morning it was just the same. He’d look at me with those unreadable eyes, a small, tight smile stretching his lips. It was a smile that never touched his eyes, a smile that never betrayed any hint of emotion. He could see the pitiful state that I was in. Each day the cold would burrow deeper into me, each day the tingling would spread further up my limbs. The desperate voice within myself whispered, insisting that my brother wouldn’t just let me freeze. There was however, never any sign of sympathy in him.
I should have just asked him, pleaded with him for something, anything but I was too afraid. To ask for something, to speak out of turn could provoke another brutal punishment. The memory of the last beating was a stark warning in my head, something that I wasn’t sure that my body would be able to endure again.
As one day passed to the next, the feelings inside me grew stronger. A churning deep in my gut, a hollow emptiness in my mind.
My attention turned to the discarded boxes, the ominous shapes that I never dared to go near, where I knew that the creatures hid during the day.
What did they hold? Perhaps blankets? Perhaps some old clothes? Maybe something else that I could use, something that could give even the slightest warmth to help survive in this frigid hell.
Eventually my desperate need for survival out weighted the fear that I held for those creatures.
My eyes fixed on the pile of boxes nearest to me, my heart pounding against my ribs and breath coming quickly and ragged. One foot after the other I tentatively started to make my way across the floor, a cold sweat beading on my forehead and running down my back.
My body froze, I could hear them. Their whispers were frantic and excited as I approached. A flicker of movement caught in the corner of my left eye, something else darting just at the very edge of my right peripheral vision.
Forcing myself onwards, toward those boxes. My knees quivering, bare feet stepping softly and silently on the cold, concrete floor.
Their chatter grew louder as I approached, I could hear their words.
“She comes, she comes”, the soft rustle of a voice whispered hurriedly, over and over.
“Good girl, come here” hissed a second voice, chilling and unhuman.
Once again came that phrase, ‘good girl’. Once again evoking something in the back of my mind. A nagging thought that I quickly pushed aside. I needed to focus, I was almost within touching distance of the boxes.
The voices where constant now, “she comes, good girl, hopeless”, a myriad of malevolent, hateful mumbles tumbling over each other.
Pulling in a deep breath, icy, dank air filled my lungs. A sweet smell of damp and decay hanging heavily in the air. My trembling hand reached out reluctantly. Breath hitching, a sharp, involuntary gasp as my fingers made contact with the box. A wooden box, moist and spongy to the touch, the wood rotten.
“Punish, starve, freeze, death,” The voices hissed hysterically, their words mirroring the fears that plagued my thoughts.
With both hands, I gripped the top of the box tightly, fingers sinking slightly into the soft wood. My eyes screwed shut as I pulled, muscles in my arms and shoulders straining. It was heavier than I expected, it didn’t move. A chorus of wheezing laughter rose up, taunting me from the shadows.
“No help there, freeze, death.” words chanting, slurred and slow from the shadows.
I pulled harder, my feeble body tense, every desperate fibre of me heaving. At first there was nothing, but then I felt it begin to tip. I pulled harder, throwing all that I had into the effort. I felt it begin to tip further before finally toppling forwards.
The box fell forward with a loud crash, rotten wood splintering at the contents spilled forwards in a deafening smash.
Eyes springing open, glancing down. Scattered on the floor, around my feet were, smashed and broken, plates, cups and bowls. A sinking feeling washed over me, there was nothing in that box that could help me.
The voices jeered and mocked me from the shadows.
Glancing over at the other boxes that littered the floor, surely there would be something in one of those.
Suddenly the mocking laughter went silent. My ears pricked up at a new sound that had replaced it. A loud, deep pounding coming from above me. I didn’t recognise what it was to start with but the moment that I did it felt as if a freezing hand had grabbed my heart.
Footsteps, footsteps on the floorboards above me. Running. Running towards the old door at the top of the stairwell.
With a body that refused to move, I stood frozen to the spot. The breath caught in my lungs, the dull pounding, echoing in my ears.
A click in the lock confirmed my worst fears, he must have heard me, he was coming.
“He comes. He comes. Punishment. Pain.” the unseen voices hissed from their hiding places.
Eyes darting frantically, the boxes, the broken furniture, anywhere to hide. But wherever I looked, I could see them, those vicious glittering red eyes as they peered back at me. Sharp teeth grinning, shining white from their hiding places in the gloom. Laughing at me, taunting me.
The sound of the door swinging open, a violent bang as it struck against the wall of that passage and reverberated around the basement, echoing off the bare stone walls. A cold white light from above cut into my grey and sombre world. A light that did nothing to silence the voices and their hissing jibes.
Thump, thump, thump, the ominous sound of hurried footsteps on the stone staircase.
My arms wrapped around myself, endless shivers convulsed across my body, shivers that were caused by more than just the biting cold air. With breath misting in front of my face, my eyes looked up at the passage way.
He was coming, his shadow long and dark in the light spilling from the open door. As he stepped out into the basement, his form was a stark silhouette against the passage’s glow.
“Heidi, what on Earth are you doing?” his tone was level and calm, more a question than a demand.
Words stuck in my throat. My eyes shied away, fixing on the ground in front of him, refusing to meet his gaze.
“I thought you had hurt yourself. What are you doing with those boxes?”
“I…” a beat of silence as my mind raced, desperately hunting for an excuse. How would he react? Would he take the truth as an accusation that he wasn’t caring for me properly? Any insinuation of that usually brought a punishment. I didn’t know but I couldn’t see that I had any other choice. “It’s cold, Lars. I’m freezing. I was hoping that there might be something that could help warm me up.” My words came hurried, stuttering, pleading through chattering teeth.
“Oh, Heidi, you poor thing! Why didn’t you say?” his voice sounded surprised, concerned even but as always there was an edge, something in the tone that betrayed him. “I was thinking that it must be getting cold down here but you always seemed happy, I just assumed that you were ok. You are happy here, aren’t you, Sister Dearest?” with those last words, his voice took on a cold edge.
My eyes, still fixed on his feet, on the worn and battered Dr Martin’s boots that he wore. I remember noticing the laces, such a strange thing to stick in the mind at a time like that, one brown and the other black. There was something about those laces, something that caused a prickle on the back of my neck. A wrongness, another unsettling aspect of my brother.
“Yes, of course I’m happy here.” My voice came soft and cowed. As much as I hated myself for it, as much as there was still a small part of me that wanted to scream and shout at him, I knew what the consequences would have been.
I was broken and defeated.
I forced my eyes to meet his. The usual cold, emotionless mask covered his face. Eyes piercing but detached, lips neither drawn tight nor smiling.
“I was only thinking the other day that perhaps we can make things a little more comfortable down here for you. I’ve bought a few things, they’re just upstairs waiting for me to bring down. A mattress, some warm clothes and a little heater. What do you think?”
My heart leapt at his words, excitement flooding within me at the thought of those luxuries. How long had I been sleeping on that hard, concrete floor? How long had I been in this dress that was now so dirty, tattered and torn? A mattress, warm clothes… this was too good to be true, I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
“Lars, really?” my voice, high pitched, quivering and animated. I could feel the smile that was spreading across my face. “Those would be so wonderful, thank you so much!”
He smiled a simple smile before continuing, “I’ll tell you what, while I bring all those things down here and set them up, why don’t you come up to the house and get yourself a nice warm bath? Clean yourself up a bit?”
My knees quivered, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. First a mattress and clothes and now he was offering me a bath! My mind felt giddy, this was all too much.
“Lars, I would love that, thank you so much!”
I wanted to run to him, I wanted to throw my arms around him. The thought of a warm bath after all this time living in dirt and grime, after all the neglect I’d suffered. In that moment I wanted to forgive Lars for everything, but something held me back, a small echo of doubt. A muted whisper, was this all just another trap?
Whatever the uncertainty was, it wasn’t enough to wipe the smile from my face. Bare feet patting softly on the cold concrete, I took my first steps forward. Forward, towards my brother and the warm, glowing light that streamed down from the open door at the top of the stairs.
Lars held out a hand, his gaze firmly fixed on me. Reaching forward with my own hand I placed it in his. His skin felt rough against mine but his grip was gentle. A strong and powerful hand, gently holding my thin, frail paw.
Slowly, hand in hand he led me up the steps. One by one we climbed, up towards the glowing, golden light of the outside world.
The moment that I set foot through the open door my eyes immediately slammed shut, burning from the bright, dazzling light of the day. My hands sprang up to shield them. Having spent so much time in the dim gloom of the basement, the sudden exposure to daylight was blinding.
“It’s ok, take your time.” a soft whisper in my ear as I felt his hand rest on the small of my back.
I was standing in a large cabin, the walls and floors all the same dark stained wood. Sunlight streamed brightly in through two windows flanking a door which led to the outside world. I couldn’t make out anything through those windows, my eyes were still struggling with the dazzling glare. On the other side of the room were three doors. I knew instantly where they led, one to the bathroom, one to a small kitchen and the last to the bedroom.
Recognition hit me instantly. I knew this place, I’d been here countless times before. Grandfather’s cabin, nestled beside the lake.
Glancing around, my eyes came to rest on a pile of objects placed against the far wall. A dark blue mattress, neatly folded white blankets and a red holdall bag. Beside those stood a small electric heater. Were those for me? Were those the luxuries that Lars had promised? A warm pang bloomed in my breast, a feeling of gratitude towards my brother. There was another feeling too, a sour feeling of guilt for having doubted him.
Aside from those objects, the rest of the room was bare. The only other feature was a small fireplace within which crackled a fire, hungrily devouring a pile of stacked logs.
My senses were overwhelmed, warmth, the smell of the wood smoke, the quiet popping and snapping of the fire.
“Why don’t you go and get that bath while I move all those things downstairs for you. The fire’s alight and the water should be hot. I’ve even put a few other things in the bathroom for you which I think you’ll enjoy. You know the way.” Lars glanced at me, his face was relaxed, head tilting slightly to one side. He looked sincere and I fell for it.
I turned and began to walk towards the first door on the right, the door which led to the bathroom. The wooden floor felt warm and smooth under my feet, an unfamiliar comfort after spending so long walking on the cold, rough concrete of the basement.
The door was stiff, nobody had been up to this cabin for quite some time, not since Grandfather had first fallen ill.
With a shove, the door opened with a creak into the small bathroom. The walls matched the same dark wood as the rest of the cabin. From a frosted glass window, sunlight poured in. A toilet, hand basin and an old fashioned, enamelled bath took up most of the space.
I couldn’t help but smile when I caught sight of a handful of items, waiting for me on the side of the bath. A bar of soap, my peppermint and cedarwood soap from home. How long had it been since I’d smelt that sweet fragrance? There were other things too, a round yellow sponge and two bottles, one of shampoo and the other conditioner.
Leaning over the bath, my hand closed around the hot tap. It turned easily and water gushed forward, cold to start with but soon steaming with heat. Twisting the cold tap open, I stepped back and watched as the bath began to fill. I watched, mesmerised as the torrents of water, one from each tap cascaded into the bath. Hot and cold mixing and mingling perfectly together as the water level slowly rose.
Warm steam filled the room, infusing into my skin, chasing away the aches and chills from my bones.
I reached behind myself, fumbling for the zip of my dress. It refused to move, seized solid. With a grunt I tugged harder, a sharp yank and it eventually gave way. Pulling it down, I let the dress fall, pooling at my feet.
Testing the water with my hand, I turned off the taps before swinging a leg over the side and dipping a first toe into the delightfully warm water. Stepping into the bath, I let myself sink slowly into its balmy embrace. The water gently lapping at me as I eased myself down.
Picking up the sponge and the soap, gently at first, I began to wash myself. That wonderful scent of the peppermint and cedarwood swirling in the air. With eyes closed and my breaths, long and deep, I took in that aroma. Then I began scrubbing at myself, cleansing away the filth and grime that coated my skin, filth from months spent confined in that basement.
I washed and conditioned my hair, the matted strands becoming soft and smooth. Then I let myself sink down until only my face was above the level of the divinely warm water.
A creak from the door caused me to glance up. I watched as the door opened slightly and Lars stepped in. I didn’t even flinch as his gaze lingered on me momentarily, I hardly registered the intrusion in that moment of absolute bliss. Shame, fear, modesty, what did it matter after all I had been through?
“Does that feel better now, Heidi?”
“It’s amazing Lars, thank you so much!” my voice was full of adoration and a genuine gratitude for what Lars had done for me.
He smiled a simple smile, a kind smile? “I’m happy that you’re happy. Let me get rid of this old dress for you and then I’ll get everything set up for you downstairs.”
Bending down, he scooped up the discarded pink dress, hung it over his arm and turned to step out of the door. Just before he did, he looked back at me over his shoulder.
“You stay in there as long as you like, you enjoy it.” one last smile before he stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.
My eyes drifted closed as I drew in a deep breath, the warm, moist air filling my lungs.