Abandoned

Stepping into the darkness, Murphy scrunched up his nose as the musty smell of the kitchen stung his nostrils. Faint rays of evening light, speckled with the dust that permeated the air, poked through the crudely boarded up window above the sink, but it did little to illuminate the room. Murphy used the light on his phone to scan the floor in front of him, revealing rotten planks of wood with rusty nails jutting upwards like teeth and moldy cans with labels long since faded away. 

"Watch your step," he told Rachel, who was making her way after him through the hole in the wall. "I hope you've had your tetanus shot."

Cautiously stepping next to Murphy, Rachel made a disgusted face as she took in her surroundings. "Ugh, it smells like old beans in here."

"I'm not sure what you expected it to smell like." Murphy laughed as he made his way towards the kitchen counter which was littered with old papers, letters, and receipts. A newspaper caught his eye. "Oh wow, look at this. 'The National Tattler. Shocking Proof About UFO's, I Was Seduced By A Flying Saucer!' Cutting-edge 1960's journalism for only fifteen cents." Rachel and Murphy both laughed then, for longer than they probably should have.

When the laughter died down, Rachel was already looking through some cabinets for things of interest. "Do you remember when we were fourteen and we sneaked our way into the drive-in to see that alien movie? What was it called?"

"Prometheus. You hated it."

Rachel gave him a look. "And you loved it. Anyways, sneaking in seemed so dangerous at the time, but looking back I doubt anyone would have cared."

Murphy nodded as he continued glancing through old papers for anything of note. "I miss that old drive-in theater. Wish they hadn't shut down."

"To be fair, drive-ins were kind of outdated decades ago."

"Your face is outdated."

Before Rachel could snap back at him, they were interrupted by a loud crash from upstairs, quickly silencing their banter. They looked at each other in surprise. Rachel’s eyes and mouth were wide in an exaggerated expression of fright. “Is that a g-g-g-ghost!?” Murphy erupted in laughter once again.

Finally he composed himself. “Come on, Scoob, let’s check it out.” Stepping into the hallway that connected the kitchen, front door, living room, and stairs, they swiped away cobwebs and looked around. What little they could see of the second floor was shrouded in musty darkness.

Neither of them moved, so Murphy asked, “What do you think that sound was?”

Rachel shrugged. “I’m sticking with ghost.”

“Nah. It’s probably just a giant, hungry rat monster.” He gave her a slight nudge forward. “You go first.”

She glared at him but said, “Gladly. Whatever it is, I’m not afraid of it.” To Murphy’s amazement, she began making her way up the stairs. Half of the wooden planks had already deteriorated into a pile of rubble, so Rachel had to hug the wall as she ascended. Not actually wanting her to go by herself, Murphy quickly followed.

Each wooden step bent slightly downward with his weight and emitted a low creak that maliciously teased of disaster. By this time Rachel had made it to the top, which should have supplied Murphy with more confidence, but of course it didn’t. Not waiting for him, Rachel went on ahead, beginning her search for the source of the noise, leaving Murphy to slowly and clumsily climb alone. He found himself briefly reminiscing to the first time he had ridden a rollercoaster. He was fifteen at the time. He was deathly afraid of heights, and it took all of Rachel’s encouragement to get him to do it. Taking his hand into hers, she had looked him in the eye and said “You’re going to be fine. Don’t be dumb!” She was right.

So even though he was fairly certain that this staircase would collapse and lead to his inevitable death, he soldiered on. Before long, he was at the top, body and stairs still mostly intact. 

“Rachel?” Murphy called out, quickly searching rooms until finally he found her. She was in a large hexagonal-shaped room. The white wallpaper was almost completely peeled away, and the floor was covered in dirt, papers, and twigs. On the far wall, three windows stretched floor to ceiling, giving an unobstructed view of the forest tree line outside. The glass of the windows had shattered long ago, allowing sunlight and air to pour in and make it feel significantly less claustrophobic than the rest of the house. There was no furniture at all, just a grand piano alone in the middle of the room, old and decrepit as everything else. Rachel was standing near the windows looking down in front of her.

Approaching her, Murphy saw that the floor was littered with black feathers and broken glass splattered with blood. A bird lay dead at Rachel’s feet.

“I think I found what made that noise,” she said sadly.

“Gross,” was Murphy’s immediate reaction.

“Poor thing.” She picked up a piece of sheet music off the floor and laid it gently over the bird’s body. Rachel sat on the piano bench facing the windows and looked somberly at the horizon. The sun was creeping slowly downward, and the sky was a magnificent concoction of warm hues giving way to the cold blue of approaching night. The trees were becoming shaded silhouettes. 

Sitting next to Rachel and facing the piano, Murphy brushed his hand gently across the keys, revealing their off-white surface from beneath the thick layers of dust. "Hey didn't you say once that you used to take piano lessons?" he said, attempting to distract her from thoughts about mortality. 

She had been staring at the floor where the body lay, but Murphy's question seemed to have shaken her from the daze, as she looked at him confused. "Huh?" 

He repeated his question. 

"Oh," she replied, turning around in the seat to look at the piano. "Yeah, but that was a long time ago. I don't even know if I remember-" Her words trailed of as she placed her slender fingers over the keys, hesitantly adjusting their positions until finally finding the correct placement. She began to play. 

The piano was clearly in dire need of some tuning, but even through the off notes and broken keys, Murphy could still make out the melody underneath. It was somewhat beautiful in its flawed nature, and Murphy listened in silent admiration.  This was apparently lost on Rachel herself however, as she suddenly stopped playing. "That was terrible!" She laughed, trying to pass off embarassment as amusement. "No wonder I quit."

"I thought it was pretty good," Murphy said sincerely. 

"Yeah, whatever," she scoffed, but a slight smile betrayed her appreciation for the comment. 

"Why did you stop taking lessons anyway?"

Her smile melted into an irritated frown, and she turned away from the piano to face the windows again. "I wanted to continue, but my idiot dad said it was a waste of money." 

Rachel's family was always a bit of a heated subject, so most of the time Murphy tried to steer clear of the topic. He turned towards the windows as well and looked out into the night. There was barely a trace of sunlight now. "I've always wanted to learn how to play the piano. Maybe one day we can take a class together and become the musical geniuses we were meant to be," he said, nudging her slightly with his elbow.

She smiled at the thought. "Sounds good."

A slight breeze passed gently over the two as time seemed to slow down. With no other visible traces of humanity besides them and this house, it was like they were the only people left on Earth. These were Murphy's favorite moments. Of course he liked hanging out with their other friends. When the whole group got together, things were always chaotic and exhilerating, with constant jokes and laughter. However, when it was just him and Rachel, things were different. Not only did they enjoy each other's company, but the time spent seemed to have meaning. Even times like this, where conversation fell quiet, the silence itself had a sort of relevance to it. 

“When I asked you,” Rachel said after a while, her voice soft and tender. “-to come explore this old house with me… you didn’t ask why.”

Murphy hadn’t thought about it. He remembered discovering the house with Rachel two years ago during a hike in the woods. He had tried and tried to get her to explore it with him, but she had refused; she was too scared. Murphy shrugged. “I guess I thought you had just finally built up the courage.”

Rachel smiled. “Yeah, I was a huge wimp back then.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “All the dumb stuff we’ve done, all the time we’ve spent together… I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Murphy nodded. “Me too.”

She went on. “So I guess the reason I asked you was because we haven’t done anything together in a while, like all summer.”

Murphy thought back to the last few months, of working for a week at a summer camp, of visiting Oregon with his family, of putting extra hours in at work so he could save up money for a car. She was right, they hadn’t spent much time together. Not that he hadn’t tried, but she was busy too, and their schedules just never quite aligned. He shrugged. “Yeah, it sucks, but once school starts I’m sure we’ll see a lot more of each other. It’s our senior year, pretty exciting.” 

A pensive silence followed, making Murphy’s sentiment seem somewhat trite. He noticed Rachel shiver slightly in the cold air. He should have reminded her to bring a coat.

“And what about after high school?” she asked. “You’re going to go off to college and we’ll never see each other again.”

“We can go to college together. Nothing has to change.”

Rachel scoffed, “Yeah, right. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. Besides, we both know I’m not smart enough for college.”

He wanted to immediately object, to tell her how smart she was, that she just didn’t realize it, but he knew he couldn’t change her mind. She’d reply with “You’re just saying that because you have to.” Then he’d object pointlessly again, and she’d just say “Sure”. 

So he said nothing. He stared at the sheet music that covered the bird’s lifeless body.

“I’m going to be just like this poor old house,” she said, more to herself than Murphy. “Forgotten and left to rot.”

It always upset Murphy, those times when Rachel seemed to plunge head-first into melancholy. There’s nothing more terrifying than hearing self-hatred from a person you genuinely admire and think the world of. Surely someone like this, someone who is normally so full of life, someone who radiates joy to those around her, surely she can’t feel such things. If so, where’s the hope for the rest of us?

Murphy finally spoke up. “I can't deny that things will change. We’ll drift apart from our friends. Some will move away. But no matter what happens, we’ll always have the memories of the times we spent together. It sounds clichéd, I know, but I really believe that.” He paused, but Rachel didn’t say anything, so he went on. “Even if we lose touch with some of our friends, think of all the cool and exciting people we’ll meet in the future.” Murphy couldn’t help but notice how unconvincing he sounded.

“I don’t want to meet new people. I like the people I already know.”

Murphy couldn’t help but feel a sting of pain in his chest. He wanted to promise her they’d be together forever, that they’d grow old together, and they’d never change. It’s what he wanted too, but he knew it wasn’t possible. Murphy could blabber on, trying to be inspirational all night, but it wouldn’t help. For now, all he could do is try to distract her from those thoughts.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants. “Let’s go check out the basement. I bet there’s some creepy stuff down there.”

Murphy’s best friend gave a half-hearted smile and stood up, taking his hand, and they left the music room.