Susie’s Safe Word — Part 2
There she was — kneeling at the oven with her back to me, swaying gently back and forth as she sang.
Continued from here:
I awoke at about one in the morning from pressure against my chest and abdomen. As I struggled to crack my eyes open, I saw an outline of a figure hovering over me, its features shrouded by darkness. I gasped, choking on the sudden influx of air, sending me into a coughing fit, my lungs on fire and throat burning with each spasm.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” the figure atop of me whispered, cupping my face, “It’s only me.”
“Kay…lee?,” I croaked, amid the coughs, reaching out with my hand to first check her side of the bed, before eventually succumbing and putting my arms around her familiar shape.
“Oh goodness,” Kaylee giggled, “So much for being romantic. You didn’t think I’d forgotten our anniversary, did you?”
I squinted into the darkness, trying my best to make out her face. She seemed all better. No sign of the anxiety or affliction that riddled her only a few hours prior. I, on the other hand…
“You okay?” she tried to sound concerned, though I could hear the faint smile in her voice, “I was thinking we could have a little fun.”
“I…” I hesitated, “Perhaps in the morning..?”
Her silence spoke volumes. Without another word, she slid off my body and back onto her side of the bed, demonstratively rolling over to face away from me.
“Kaylee,” I whispered, edging closer towards her and wrapping an arm around her waist, “I’m sorry, let’s…”
But nothing…nothing could have prepared me for her reaction.
“Casserole!” she hissed through gritted teeth, and then louder, enunciating “Ca…sse…role!”
Dread seized my spine. I sat up, flicking on the light as I did so and stared at my girlfriend, who was lying motionless with her back to me.
“What the fuck…” I began, “Why would you…”
No answer.
“Why the hell would you even say that?”
Silence.
“Kaylee.”
Nothing.
I shook her by the shoulder, “Kaylee.”
“W-what..?” she half-sighed half-yawned, as though pretending to be awakening from a deep sleep. But as she turned to look at me, her expression of genuine surprise made my skin prickle.
“I…you…” I wet my lips, gathering my thoughts, before settling for seemingly the most absurd question my weary mind could conjure up, “You were sleeping?”
She knitted her brows and grimaced in pretend agony, “Go to sleep, Griffin. Seriously, what the hell.”
My stomach in knots, I tried to do just that, flicking off the light once again and cuddling up beside her. Okay, I told myself. It was just a bad dream. Just a vivid, hyper-realistic nightmare. Probably brought on by the fact I wasn’t feeling well. We’d laugh about it in the morning.
But morning wouldn’t come. I woke up again at around 3 AM, acutely aware of Kaylee’s voice coming from the hallway. I pushed away the covers, my heart rate hastening. Who was she talking to at this hour? And why…couldn’t I hear any other voice?
Then, I realized. She wasn’t talking to anyone. She was singing.
Well, singing may be an overstatement. It was warped and non-melodic — much more like a chant.
“A little glass bowl, a sprinkle of coal…”
Seriously, what the fuck. The light was on in the kitchen. I edged towards it.
“For the ultimate goal…”
I peeked into the kitchen from around the corner. There she was — kneeling at the oven with her back to me, swaying gently back and forth as she sang. A gust of wind rattled the window panes. I swallowed.
“What are you doing, Kay? It’s three in the morning,” my voice wasn’t nearly as self-assured as I’d practiced in my head.
Momentarily, she stopped swaying. The soft buzz of the oven and my own thudding heartbeat were the only sounds in the room. Then, gradually, Kaylee turned her head to face me, her neck rotating slightly further out than I would have preferred. And as our eyes met, her chant did not falter.
“…a meat casserole!”
My eyes widened at the way she barked the last syllable. Her features suddenly didn’t seem human anymore. Her arms were a bit too long, her neck — too dexterous, and her voice was nothing like the Kaylee’s I knew. In hindsight, I wonder how I’d even confused the two in the first place.
Over her shoulder, a radiant light was emanating from the oven. An overwhelming heat seemed to be permeating the room. And then I realized. It wasn’t a casserole.
It was a fire.
Blood pulsating in my temples, I made a dash for the bedroom, praying I would come to before it was too late and get the real Kaylee outside safely. But she wasn’t in our bed. I leaned against the wall of our bedroom, reeling at the thought of returning to the humanoid-looking creature in the kitchen.
“Kaylee!” I called out, making no attempt to cover the desperation in my voice.
“Coming!” the creature in the kitchen screeched, followed by a warped echoing laughter.
Clouds of smoke were filling the apartment. This was another bad dream. It had to be. But no matter how hard I pinched myself, my eyes wouldn’t snap open. My heart in my throat, I made my way to the front door, flinging it open and stumbling into the stairwell in nothing but my underwear. Tumbling down the three flights of stairs, I collapsed onto the sidewalk, my legs giving out from under me.
That’s where they found me. Or rather — that’s what I was told. See, I can never be sure anymore.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” a nurse shook her head at me from behind the stethoscope, “Accidents of this caliber are hard to come by.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” I stuttered, trying to sit up, “Where’s Kaylee? Did she escape the fire?”
The nurse smiled at me, but it was a sorrowful kind of smile, “Let me go get the doctor.”
The doctor ended up being of no help either, prodding and probing instead of answering any questions. Only a few days later upon being questioned by investigators, did I find out what really happened.
“There was no fire,” one of them retorted dryly after I’d inquired about it again, “Lethal levels of carbon monoxide were detected in your apartment. The leak came from your neighbors, Mr. and Mrs… er… Torres, were you acquainted?”
I gaped at him, before realizing he expected an answer, “Er…not really, no.”
He sighed as though it was somehow my fault I didn’t have the information he needed, “Well, we have a search warrant out for Mr. Bradley Torres, as we have reason to believe what we have here is a murder case.”
“A m-murder?”
He nodded, “And manslaughter.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The investigator shifted in his seat, “Syuzanna Torres was found bound and gagged in her kitchen with the gas stoves and oven left on.”
I wet my lips, trying to wrap my mind around this.
“What’s more,” the investigator leaned in across the table until I met his gaze, “Your…er, roommate..”
“Kaylee,” I gasped, “Where is she? Did she get out okay?”
The investigators exchanged glances, “Kaylee Raymon unfortunately passed away in her sleep.”
I clutched the edge of the desk to steady myself, despite being seated. Kaylee was… gone..? But how could she have died in her sleep? The bed was empty when I came back to the bedroom to get her during the…
“But what about the fire?” I demanded. Every hair on my body was now standing on end, “I… I ran back to our bedroom wanting to save her, she wasn’t there…What do you mean then, she died in her sleep?”
“Son,” one of the investigators said, “You were experiencing what is known as carbon monoxide poisoning. It is completely odorless, so you would have been none the wiser, but due to the high concentrations emanating from the neighboring apartment, as well as a complete lack of ventilation within your own, it’s no surprise it affected you and your girlfriend to the degree that it did.”
I stared at him, still waiting for an answer to my question.
“Carbon monoxide is known to cause hallucinations,” he added, catching on, “As well as plenty of other side effects — headaches, lightheadedness, confusion…Considering the levels that were found within your home, I’d wager you experienced at least some of these. You were very lucky you got out when you did. Your roommate was predicted to have passed away several hours prior.”
I was completely dumbfounded by this. Kaylee had been dead…for hours?
“We are very sorry for your loss,” the other investigator chimed in, clearly startled by my expression, “And thank you. You’ve been a big help.”
The last part was a lie, I realized. A feeble attempt to make me feel better in what was ultimately one of the darkest and most confusing moments of my life. It only got progressively more dark and confusing however, when the doctor informed me that my prolonged exposure to carbon monoxide had caused irreversible alterations to my brain due to a phenomenon known in the medical field as, “Hypoxic cell death”.
“You’ll likely see some delay in cognitive processes and memory,” he recited matter-of-factly, “However, in the long-term these changes will be less obtrusive — less obvious. If your headaches persist longer than two weeks, however, you’ll need to make another appointment.”
The headaches subsided soon enough — though the heartache took a bit longer — and I gradually moved on. Or rather…I learned to cope, just as the doctor had predicted. I did find another girlfriend eventually. Ended up marrying her too. Aubrey. She’s fast asleep next to me right now. For the sake of my sanity, I made sure she was nothing like Kaylee.
I regularly forget things or…”misremember”, as Aubrey likes to put it, but I’ve learned to live with it. We both have. I possess everything most men can only dream of — a nice house, a beautiful wife, a steady income. I guess you could say my life is truly the epitome of the American dream. Except sometimes… when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can still hear singing coming from the kitchen.
And sometimes… just sometimes… I think Aubrey hears it too.
