Haunting of the past

Being in this room for so long has put a toll on me, this is driving me insane I can only live like this for so much longer.  What's a life living in a room, alone just staring at a bare red wall? That is no life to live.  I began to notice the smallest little details about the wall from the little specks to the smallest scratches.   The highlight of my day was when John brought me in my meals , it was the only thing I had to look forward to and the most excitement I would get everyday, sad isn't it?  One day I thought I saw some movement in the wallpaper, I looked again and took a closer look but the wall stood still.  I knew I saw the wall make some sort of movement I just knew it.  I figured I would just go to sleep maybe I was just over tired from draining myself from just staring at the red wall all day, that could be it.  The next time that John came to bring me my food I asked him to stare at the wall for awhile and see what he sees, of course he saw nothing.  Everyday the longer I stared at it the more I began to notice.  As I kept looking at the red wall I began to see what looked like a little girl just sitting there.  I began to move closer to the wall and I began to see an older man within the wall too.  The older man had facial hair with a hint of grey.  I thought to myself that guy looks familiar so does that little girl.  I took a walk around the room to try and just think to myself about what I thought I was seeing.  I turned back around at the wall and I saw nothing, nothing at all.  I knew I wasn't seeing things, I couldn't be I know what I saw.  Again I figured I would just get some rest for the night.  I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of screaming, I flew right up and looked around in the pitch black room, I heard that scream before, was that scream me when I was younger? All of a sudden I had a flash back of me sitting in a wooden  chair in the kitchen with my dad beating me.  I kept screaming and screaming, it was the worse pain of my life.  At that point I did not even want to be alive, the pain was unbearable.  I then focused back into the wall and saw exactly what I had pictured.  My childhood was getting clearer than ever and I never wanted to picture my childhood again, I have never feared someone so much as I had my father when I was younger, he was the devil.  Every night I  would suddenly wake out of a sound sleep to screaming, it was driving me insane.  Everything that I tried to forget from my childhood was  coming back and it was like a stab to the heart.  I looked closer at the walls and starting slowly seeing blood as my dad would whip me and whip me, crying in terror.  I began to not be able to sleep at all, all of these horrible memories from my childhood were taking over me again and again.  Every time I took a glance at the wall a flood of flashbacks would take over me, it was all so vivid.  Suddenly I began to smell the exact way my house used to smell, that treacherous smell.  I could not take this anymore, I needed to escape,

The House

The House by Joey Hwang



1

Jenny's mental illness, like depression, flared up again today. It has been a while since she has suffered from it-about six months. She talked at the wall a few months at first, and she has  started to tear the wallpapers up a few weeks ago. Some of my neighbors are asking me why I leave her alone even though I am a psychopathologist. It is, maybe, because her state was far more than I can control. One side of the wallpaper was torn almost half or more and even it is going creepy yellow color, so I put a red fabric on it.

But she is not under this condition all day. She is a completely normal woman usually, however, especially at night, she cries, yells, and so on, and even she has tried to strangle me. I cannot feel comfortable in this house anymore.

2

One day, I was working on something in my room, and she came to me with torn wallpaper in her hand,

" You killed her... save her... My heart cannot take any more... save her... save!!!"

She shook me violently by the shoulders, shaking her head angrily and shouting at me. So I said that there is no woman in the wall, please wake up, and go back to the past where we were in the happy days. But, she didn't listen to me at all. Of course there is no "poor her" at all in the yellow wallpaper, the black cement. Jenny has said it makes her like ominous, and strange sounds raise the hair on her neck. Also, she finally threw the red fabric away, tearing all of the wallpaper up and tried to drag "her" out of the wall. And Jenny put the blame on me for "her death". I think it would be better to find some quarantine for her and me.

3

Her disease gets worse and worse. Jenny said she is seeing "her apparition" and hearing "her voice". So I locked Jenny in her room even now. I cannot understand at all what she is saying-someone, especially "she" is in the wall. Now I feel that I have the illness, also.

Really, is there someone in the wall? Break it down! That cannot be true. It should not be that someone in the black, spooky and thick wall. So I found some facilities for her, but they do not want to take care of her.

I want to get out of the her clutches and feel freedom. I do not want to take care of her anymore, either. It's time to do anything for my freedom right now.

4

There are police lines around the house of a doctor couple in Hartford, Connecticut. Some cops are finding evidence, some reporters are taking pictures inside and outside of the house, and some crowds are talking in whispers. Then, John showed up in the nick of time and was handcuffed. According to the police officers, a little girl was found dead on one side of the wall in the house. She was an 8-year-old girl and she was often called, "Little Red Riding Hood". She was killed on her way to John's house to talk about her grandmother's depression.

Pastel Freedom

“Ugh… I never knew one could grow tired from resting but I see you can, maybe I should win a noble prize for this discovery, and Ha wouldn’t that be a laugh a woman winning such prestigious an award my husband would have a heart attack”.  All he wants me to do is lay down in this creepy little room, in this great big creepy house, all simply for my “condition”.  I can’t believe he rented out this huge old Victorian house for three weeks just so I could get better.  As I sit up in my bed glancing over the ugly yellow wallpaper and out the window I see: sun shine hitting the lake and lush green hills, wishing I could go out for a walk. Maybe I could go out since he’s not around… but no...  I should listen to John after all he is my doctor and my husband. A jack of all trades that John. So if he say’s rest is best for my “condition” then rest must be best. I just wish I knew what my condition was?
 Everything happened so fast once I had the baby, it was like all of a sudden I felt a part of my self being ripped away. The minute he was placed into my arms that night at the hospital, it was like I was supposed to morph into someone else. Then John asked when I got home if I was going to quit my job at the book publishing company; we both gave each other these bewildered looks. Is that the moment when my condition began?

            On my third day in this house, John brings me breakfast in bed, there’s wheat toast, bacon and yogurt with a rose in a vase on a shining silver tray. “Enjoy breakfast dearest” he says then lightly kisses me on the forehead like a child and leaves me in the room. He tells me feel better love. But I would love to know when did I start feeling worse? If anything this bed rest dictation is what’s upsetting me. Sitting up scanning the room: how can anyone expect me to stay here all day & not be depressed? Jumping out of bed, I begin to pace back in forth in front of the barred window & its lovely light. No! I can’t go into its beautiful light John would be so upset. But if he really wanted to me to feel better he would put me in another room. After looking out the window, I realize just how hideous this wallpaper truly is. "It’s hard to believe this room, was once a children’s nursery now it collects dust and creaks" I say to myself. Still I am unable, to see how this ugly faded yellow wallpaper was once ever cheery. It contains idiotic flamboyant patterns, which seem to lead the eye nowhere, committing every artistic sin. The hours pass and its now sundown, then I hear a light knock on the door in walks Jennie “Time for dinner Jane”, she says.


Jennie is my sister in law. She is a perfect and enthusiastic house keeper, and hopes for no better profession I verily believe she thinks it is the writing which made me sick! After she leaves, I have a little of my soup & nibble at my crackers. I spend the remainder of the night pondering & staring at the yellow wall paper. Am I wrong for not wanting to be like Jennie? Does it make me a bad wife & mother that I don’t want to give up my job? Is John really trying to cure me or change me ?
 
 My thoughts are interrupted, when I saw the patterns began to shift into bars. “Don’t let them...” a voice whispered. But when I peer through the dark no one was there. “Don’t let them tame me!” the voice turned loud and strong, it reminds me of a woman, then it’s gone.  The next day was fairly normal, breakfast and visits from John then I continue to be left alone. As night fell I sense a familiar chill up my spine. “Don’t let them tame me”, the woman’s voice says.


This time I ask “Who are you”.
The voice laughs & says “Come closer”. As I walked closer to the wallpaper in the dark, I swear I see two piercing eyes staring directly at me I scream: & run out of the room. John soon finds me shaking in the closet I try to tell him what I saw, but he simply carries me to bed & blames it on my nerves. Then he gently kisses my head & leaves me alone in the darkness. Now curious I look at the wallpaper, expecting John to be right, but there the eyes were; now they belong to a woman trapped behind the pattern. Trembling beside my bed I ask again: “Who are you? ”.


She turns toward me, the shaky dark outline of a woman and say "I am the goddess buried in your bones, your strength, your passion, your fire and they want to tame me then kill me" she says. You can almost see the disdain dripping off her words when she say’s “they” then points to the far end of the wall. I look where she’s pointing, I see something flickering.


As I go to the other side of the wall, I see what looks like a warm light, in the shape of a flame painted on the wall only it moves. Dancing around the flickering fire, I see John, Jennie & in her arms our new born son. As they danced around the fire, they threw things into it: my books, my desk, my typewriter. They sang happily while my beloved things burned; “No longer a distraction we are her only attraction, we longer care for she is no longer shared, now demoted and completely devoted to us”. Horrified I couldn’t believe they would do such a thing, but my soul wouldn’t allow it. I let out a blood chilling battle cry, and began to claw the unholy wallpaper with all my strength. I tear & tear, I even use my teeth until the deed is done and I go to bed. The next morning, I feel beautifully empowered & ready to show John who I really am.

            Done with this bed rest nonsense, I now realize there’s nothing wrong with me. Society simply couldn’t handle the strong woman that I am. To demonstrate my new health, I fixed John a beautiful breakfast: blue berry pancakes, grits and crispy bacon. I prance up the stairs carrying his breakfast, slowly entering his room to find him still asleep. Bam! I throw the breakfast tray on to the wall, and watch it’s smashed drippings smear all over his head. Startled and confused, John jumps out of bed. “Woman are you crazy”.
I stand proudly before him, and answer “No I’m not, despite what your sexist society and medical degree tried to make me think.  I am beautiful and strong & just because I love my career doesn’t mean I don’t love you or our child, each of these titles makes me the woman that I am & you cannot take that away!”.


He stood looking stunned for a moment, then his face smiled and widened with enlightenment. “Your right dear, wife, mother& career woman, are all vital elements of who you are, it was wrong of me to try to tame you, your strength & passion is what makes you beautiful & why I love you so much.” With a warm heart & great smile I kiss him, taking his hand and saying;
“I love you too now let’s go home the future awaits”.