The pew creaked under his weight. The wood was dry and cracking. There was a thick and suffocating smell that hung in the air. He could almost taste the mold with each inhale and smell it with each exhale.
The abandoned church was deep in the woods. These damned woods. They were virtually his home. He and his sister creating lands of magic and fortune beneath the trees canopy. She was nearly 4 years older than he. She was 12 and he was 8 and yet they were best friends. Soulmates come in all forms, you know.
The day she vanished will haunt his memory for all of time.
It was like any other autumn day. He and her. Together for always. Constructing forts and giant leaf piles in the woods. Claiming territory and exploring uncharted religions.
Their play stopped abruptly when they came to a clearing. The woods had gone silent. The quiet was violent. Maddening. Not a birds melody or the rustle of the leaves could be heard. They looked around nervously, and then at each other, expectantly. Searching each other’s eyes for an explanation. A reason. But both came up empty. When they broke each others gaze, they looked ahead, into the clearing and saw an old, abandoned church. The air around them was stark, and dry. Nearly motionless except for a kind of vibration they felt deep in their bones. Not a sound. But a feeling. The church projected an ominous presence. It’s windows were blacked and broken. The door hung by one hinge and it’s structure was sagging. Rotting. Begging for the relief of demolition.
He looked again to his sister. But for the first time ever, she didn’t look back. Her eyes were wide and her gaze was unfocused. He saw the beginnings of tears welling in her eyes. He said her name in an attempt to break her from the spell she was under. His voice inaudible. Sucked from his mouth as soon as it left his throat. “Where did it go?!” He thought.
“It’s in the pit with all the other noise. She’ll be in the pit too. Soon. She’ll bloat. “ the thought came from the deepest recesses of his mind. Almost as though it was whispered to him rather than his own conscious thought.
“What the hell was that!?!” He thought as he began to panic. In the same moment his sister started to walk forward toward the church. In that Instant he knew. He knew the church was the void of no return. He knew it was bad. No place for his sister. To be sucked in and bloat. No.
He tried calling her name again to try and stop her but his voice was snatched away as soon as it left his lips. He ran out in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders to no avail.
It was like she was being pulled. The church had strung her up and was pulling her to it. He began to cry. Pulling on her arms and clothes. Digging his heels into the earth for traction to stop her.
He screamed for his sister.
The quiet. The goddamned quiet. The quiet assaulted his senses and combined with his panic and despair brought him to his knees. The buzzing intensified and engulfed him. Waves of debilitating nausea wracked his body. He felt like the earth would swallow him whole.
He brought his head up and saw his sister crossing the threshold of the church. He tried to scream her name again, arm extended and reaching toward her. The buzzing reached a maddening crushendo. He fought to maintain focus but his small body had no choice but to succumb to unconsciousness.
When he awoke, it was nearly dark. His head felt like a drum. He couldn’t move, he was too weak. The police found him the next morning, near death. He tried to explain what happen to his sister but nobody believed him. Not even his own mother. They chalked the story up to PTSD and his physical state. When he asked the police about the church, they stated they were unaware of any church that was built in the woods. Past or present. His sister was filed as a missing persons case and after months of investigation and no leads the case eventually went cold.
That was 16 years ago. He never went back into the woods after that day.
Not until today, that is.
He was home visiting from college and supposed he wanted to say hello to some old ghosts.
Walking the path, in his thoughts and memories, it wasn’t until the sound of his footsteps fell away that he noticed the old familiar chill creep up his spine. And I n the absolute silence he had looked up from his path and saw it.
Just sitting in a clearing.
His stomach lurched. A thousand thoughts and memories came flooding to the forefront.
But...missing was the ominous feeling. Missing was the vapid atmosphere. Missing were the intrusive thoughts. Unbelieving...he slowly stepped, almost crept forward toward its entrance and cautiously entered the structure.
What was he doing? But all reason and caution fell away in that moment. Fell away, like the sounds of the woods. Like the sounds of his footsteps. The sound of his breathing. Snatched, and tucked away to be dealt with another time.
The godforsaken church was here and he was determined to solidify its existence.
It was just as dilapidated on the inside as it was the outside. Rotting pews, rubble on the wood floor. The silence stayed with him though. He made his way to a pew and sat gingerly upon it.
The pew creaked under his weight. The wood was dry and cracking. There was a thick and suffocating smell that hung in the air. He could almost taste the mold with each inhale and smell it with each exhale. The silence was deafening and he struggled to make sense of his thoughts. He just wanted answers. The pain of losing his sister was still with him. The pain cut deep into his heart and in his mind. Being here after all these years, without answers and without belief. He was HERE. But his sister was not.
He began to weep. His weeps turned into sobs that wracked his whole body. He placed his head in the crook of his arm, on what remained of the back of the pew in front of him. He cried deeply and cathartically. And it was silent. The noise stolen from his soul. He no longer cared what happened to him, h ow or why he was here. He no longer sought explanations from the universe. He was screaming his pain into the void that was the church and it was okay.
As he opened his eyes between sobs, he noticed the smallest glitter on the floor almost beneath his sneaker. If it wasn’t for his tears refracting the light, he might not have seen it at all. He wiped his face and reached down to pick it up.
It was a chain. Attached to the chain was a locket. Scratched and worn, he wiped at the dust with his fingers. The letter “A” made itself known, engraved on the front of the locket.
There had been a soft hum in the air that had gone unnoticed during his catharsis, and during this discovery.
The locket was his sisters.
The hum became a full vibration that rattled his bones.
“The noise goes to the pit.” He thought.
“I’ll be in the pit too” he thought. “And I’ll bloat”
