Short story: That Lonely Window Part 2

That Lonely Window Part 2: 

I must admit at this point my mind had started to crumble, at night I would often let phantasms of ghosts and demons in my mind whilst I slept, I am not writing this to confess my madness and I do not believe it even was madness; to this day I still will confess to no madness on my part, instead I believe I was satisfying my scientific curiosity. No, instead, I write this to simply say my that my mind was in place where it was willing to conjure the most hideous demons and apparitions for simple entertainment, in a ghost story sort of way, so maybe I wasn't as unbiased as I should of been in a place of scientific research, in retrospect I shouldn't have been so open and instead should of had a more skeptical mind. That being said I truly believe the majority of what I saw was completely true and existed, if not on this plane then perhaps another one; in honesty I do not know, yet I do believe.  

With every commute from my place of employment I would let myself have a very fleeting glance at the window; each time the window would be populated by, what I had now deduced to be, a young girl; and what seemed to be a thick darkness that surrounded and on certain trips past the window seemed like it was almost engulfing her.  

One night on my trip home after a particularly arduous shift at my work, I had been working both extra days and hours to support the coming of my first daughter as my wife could obviously not work, I had completely forgotten about the girl and that lonely window until I arrived at that mysterious house out of time. I know not why I stopped walk; my eyes had been watching the cracks dance along the pavement I was walking on. I felt the cold night breeze caress the back of my neck- then it got colder, my hairs stood up. I looked at the window. The girl was there, but her face contorted to that more of an eldritch horror than an actual little girl, black ran down her face from her eyes. But her eyes they did not seem to truly be eyes, they resembled closer to precious stones than any sort of eyes I had ever seen, even as I write this account the image of that girl stays in my mind and I do not truly know if anyone who reads this; if anyone may in face be able to read this thanks to my present situation, nor do I know if I truly believe myself, as I have already mentioned. What I will say about what I saw that night, whether it was a just a wild phantasmagoria or not I do not know, the girl was sitting at the window and as I mentioned she appeared to be crying and her eyes were literally filled with colour, which colour? I cannot say, not because an unwillingness so people do not think me mad, no, I already know people think me mad- I cannot say because I honestly do not know, it was a colour no human has seen before, at least I have not seen it before nor do I ever want to see it again for it filled me with such dread. One other detail sticks in my mind, the deep red ribbons the girl wore in her dark hair and dangling off her dress were present, much like every night, but they appeared to be taut- as if being pulled by into the black void that was the rest of the room. Then in a second she was gone, only black sat at the window.  

I stood, my eyes fixed to the window. My hands trembled, my eyes became dry from the lack of blinking. I do not know what thoughts pasted through my mind nor do I know how much time past before the door at the side of the house creaked open. An old woman emerged, she greeted me and asked if I was ok or needed help. I stumbled over my words, tripping over every second word and constantly glanced back at that window. The old woman must have noticed, she asked me why I was looking into that window, she asked in a way that made it seem like she already knew my answer. I told her, everything, all about the girl, where I worked, it all came spilling it out on that cold night- I do not know why I trusted her. The old woman was about eighty, from what I could guess anyway; I did not want to outright ask her for I thought it would be wholly rude. It was dark out so I could not see her face but she was a tall woman, taller than any old woman I have seen before- she was taller than me by a few inches, I was five foot seven. She invited me into her home, I accepted without any hesitation, this seemed strange in retrospect for I am usually a wholly anxious person. The inside of the house seemed much like what you'd expect for any normal house of an elderly woman who had lived alone for many years with little contact from people. I sat on the floral couch that smelt like lavender, the smell was incredibly powerful it was biting the inside of my nose with every inhale, yet something hid behind it. The old woman sat on an adjacent, but just as floral, seat. She handed me a glass of water to help calm my nerves, I took a sip of the water; it tasted like rotten vegetables. On further inspection I saw black specs swirling and the smell was equally as bad, "water ain't good here" added the woman, "it all I got, you get used to it though. Go on. Won't kill you, organic water'll do you good." I drank some more. We sat for a few seconds, I looked around the room. It was filled with statues of creatures I've never seen before, just behind the old woman was a gigantic bookshelf. I looked at the old woman, her eyes filled with a strange colour that I had not seen before, I became dazed; falling into her strange bloodshot eyes. "The girl" I snapped out of my daze, "the girl?" I mimicked. "You saw a girl, didn't​ you?" "Yes, I did. In the window." I was falling over my words again, my anxiety was returning from when it had been absent before. "Ain't no girl here, 'cept me of course." The old woman laughed, it was a dreadful laugh more akin to a wail of pleasure. "Though, I do know a story" she sipped her black liquid, I assumed it was coffee; though I couldn't be sure. "Want to hear it?" I gave no answer; instead my eyes moved across the room looking at each and every morbid, small statues all fixing their gazes at me, the faces all looked young and contorted and filled with pain; their eyes made of a strange stone it was peculiar colour, I remember, it was the same queer colour that both the girl and the old woman had in their eyes.  

The old woman didn't wait for my answer she was already well into her story. When I realised she was explaining the history of the house. I cannot remember what she had said word for word, as her voice grew more and more irritable to me, her deep voice droned on but had a strange squeal hidden behind it, I did listen to what I could and from that I shall paraphrase.  

At first what she said did not entirely make sense, she talked of different words that change depending on the hosts cognition I shall quote what I remember: "You know of them realms, no? Didn't think so." She giggled paused then continued, "these words you see are part of each of us, they change, form anew, and most importantly they change us. We live in these realms and one day we will escape and the realms will join together and summon The One, for when we die we shall be a part of that realm; we were born there and we shall die there." She then started forming words and phrases I have never heard before, and never wish to hear again, at first I believed she was having a stroke so I asked if she was alright, she laughed "sorry darlin' sometimes I get carried away." She then started telling me of the girl in the window.