The Other Side of Seraphs

The old man troubled his neighbors regularly with his piercing and harsh screams. He
would pause only to gulp in more air and would exhale with a violent and repulsive squeal. His
ancient bed would crack and splinter as he plunged his back sadistically into the mattress
following these episodes. The neighbors spoke constantly in sly callous whispers about his
condition, although not a single soul dared to complain to the leaseholder of the public housing
for fear of being tagged heartless. The old man was thought to be infectious after petite trickles
of blood sprinkled the mattress he laid upon every day, the neighbors thought it would be
advantageous to not pay the old man and his granddaughter any sociable check-ups. The scarlet fleshy
sputum covered the collar of his checkered pajamas and it necessitated a clothing change every
hour. Staff at the dwelling felt awful, chiefly due to the old man’s appearance. The man had
shriveled into a void carapace and his ribs pinched into his creased skin making him seem
uncommonly skeletal. Childlike eyes had been replaced with a frantic, bargaining, tomblike chill
and the residents insincerely put on expressions of gloomy ghosts.
His nineteen-year-old granddaughter Hannah-Lee left school to clothe and feed her only
surviving next of kin. She adored her grandfather Raymond Collins and would have done
anything to stop the unrelenting cancer from thriving in his stomach. Days stacked into months
and the months became years, and Hannah-Lee became a mechanical machine and the routine
became all she knew, her grandfather hanged on to the unwanted fragments of his dismal life.
She once had a faultless figure but it had since morphed into the signs of future plumpness, and
her spirited blue eyes now looked like descending angels.
Their Nashville apartment creaked softly and often, at the scurrying of the many rats that
tore their homes into the dilapidated walls. Like any southerners, the TV remained on almost
always but it didn’t quite drown out the shrieks from the master bed-room. The granddaughter
slept on the couch most of the time, but on many occasions drifted into her grandfather’s
bedroom to lie beside him like she used to when she was a blameless bouncy little girl. The
bathroom pipes were old and weathered, so the sounds of groaning metal clearing its throat was
all that could be heard in their tiny home and it often kept Hannah-Lee on the verge of insomnia.
The grandfather’s situation stayed stagnant over the past years much to Hannah-lee’s
bewilderment. Her life became an unfilled burden and the thoughts of being a regular twenty-
two year-old were too passionate to even think about. “I’m a good person and my family needs me
right now. After he gets better I’ll get some friends and have a wonderful ol’ time.” She most
often lied to herself when her grandfather’s health was in decline and she needed
comfort.
She only left the apartment to fetch groceries or do the laundry for the week and
every time she left she instantly regretted it. The neighbors would blatantly stare at her, and faint
whispers of her diminishing looks and wasting grandfather could be heard, she would stare to the
ground and briskly walk by to avoid weeping in front of them, because though they were
coldhearted, they were still adults and Hannah-Lee desperately wanted them to console her and
hold her. “Poor poor Hannah-Lee” the neighbors would murmur “she doesn’t look very pretty
anymore”. “It’s because she ain’t gotta job to keep her busy. She gonna be lazy an fat her whole
life.” Getting a job for Hannah-Lee was an unworkable idea. She was much too busy taking care
of her grandfather, and so they subsisted mostly on her grandfather’s military pension.
Friends from university abandoned Hannah-Lee when her life became too miserable for
them to stomach. Her friends dereliction were what first hinted at the wretched life she was
destined to lead, she had first been blinded by love for her grandfather that she took no heed in
her struggles, but she had treasured her friends and their desertion broke Hannah-lee’s heart. For
Hannah-Lee to look in the mirror now was a depressing sight. She had once been the most
gorgeous girl in high-school, but now her bloated hips, gaunt eyes, and rapidly graying and
thinning hair made tears run down her still porcelain cute face.
She had a secret that she had not shared with anyone; she kept it to herself and was often
excited with it, other times she would sob and almost choke on the guilty tears. It was an idea
only, just a little thought that sometimes gave her much needed gratification. Hannah-Lee began
to think of ending her life purposefully. She didn’t think much about actually committing to the
act but the mere thought was sometimes the only fixation that could muster motivation and assist her
through the agonizing days.“Don’t talk sickly, that’s a good reason for them to lock ya up these days. I
need to be strong and help granddaddy.” The thought of life after her death filled her with contentment
until she contemplated her naked grandfather’s dark slippery doe eyes burning in sorrow for the late
Hannah-Lee.
When not nursing her grandfather, Hannah-Lee would over and over again sit on the
couch with her knees to her bosom and weep silently for the deceased beautiful life she once
lived. She remembered warmly and dejectedly how she used to dress in her mother’s clothes and
model in front of the vanity mirror in her room, she would garb herself in every piece of jewelry
in the house (at that time a lot), and put layer upon layer of expensive dark red make-up on her
lips and cheeks, and kiss the crystal clear mirror leaving cherry-colored ovals on the unstained
glass. She remembered watching all the films at the cinema because her then best-friend worked
there. She would often dream of Hollywood and she, not with conceit but with actuality, thought she
had the looks of a Hollywood starlet. Her most costly dress now was made of simply colored swathes
that she had sewed into a frilly blithe outfit. Hannah-Lee’s nerves couldn’t handle reminiscing too
frequently and she went back to thinking of her secret plan.
The month of January arrived and Hannah-Lee dreaded the cold. The boards of the house
froze and chilled her feet until all sensation was lost. The pipes often busted and the tenant
would put no hurry on repairs. The furnace shot out a hot dusty mist that made breathing, simply
impossible. The walls were thin and Hannah-Lee suffered terribly at subjugating her neighbors to
her grandfathers incessant howls of pain. “We just gotta little bit longer to go Hannahbelle, ya
can’t give all up now. You’re a big girl and ya need to let everyone know it. It’s justa little cold, I
been in far worse than this.” That didn’t help, and neither did her unusual prayers, for every time
they went unanswered Hannah-Lee grew angry at god.
The neighbors began talking more. They had expected a funeral and a weeping teenage
girl at their door any day, and as the years passed their suspicions grew more fantastic. “Well
Lord knows what a girl can do when she’s all cooped up in a house like that, specially a girl like
Hannah-Lee.” Hannah-Lee again went into her frequent recollection. She thought of her
freshman days in college studying teaching, wanting to become her family’s first educator, she
wanted to make her parents proud. She recalled her journal she wrote poems in, she could not
remember any specific lines but she did know they were beautiful.
Hannah-Lee’s body jerked from surprise at a scratchy knock on her door, and she
immediately grew weary of answering it. For all she knew it could be one of her neighbors
wanting to nose around the house which was in less that impeccable shape. She jadedly cracked
the door and it revealed two middle-aged blue-eyed men. The gentlemen resembled classic
police-officers from movies and it somewhat scared Hannah-Lee into pondering what she had done wrong. “Ma’am may you be so kind as to open the door?” the gray-haired man spoke
seductively and with a thick southern accent. Hannah-Lee felt his warmth and she slowly unlatched
the locks and opened the door.
“Lord, you sure is a pretty one!” the black haired man said with a less bulky pronunciation.
Hannah-Lee stood by the door too bemused to ask them their business.
“Ma’am we come from upstairs. we gotta mess of complaints about the pipes bustin.” The other
man spoke immediately after.
“Oh yes ma’am a whole list of complaints, and we get paid to fix these problems.” Hannah-Lee
wondered why the men were dressed in suede coats and khakis if they were plumbers.
“We just inspectin, shouldn’t take no more’n a minute now.” The gray-headed man said. “I’m
Mr. Nicholas and I fix most of the problems round here.” He grabbed his partner’s sleeve “this is
my boy Jude and he helps me fix problems.”
“What’s your name beautiful?” Jude asked genteelly. Hannah-Lee could not resist being
flattered. She had not even seen a man in months except her grandfather. The neighborhood men
worked at the mill and did not get home until very late.
“Hannah-Lee, sir” she said sweetly.
Nicholas spoke fatherly “well now you just go sit in that chair and I’ll be done in a second.” Jude
followed her to the seat and sat down beside her.
“You too pretty to be sittin in this house all alone now dontcha think?”
“No, I’m fine sittin here I gotta help my granddad cause he’s been sick for so long.” she gave
him a hesitant smile.
“Well if that ain’t a shame then I just don’t know what is. But I guess I can help ya out.” He
chuckled delicately and cocked his head back.
“I don’t think there’s much you can do he’s been sick so long.” She counted the floor boards.
“Well, see now that is a whole mess of things I can do, member now, I can fix all problems. I’ve
been taught how to fix problems pretty good from my dear ol’ dad.” Hannah-Lee’s face grew
perplexed as she realized she had no grasp on what he was saying. “See way I figure it is, we got
this pretty girl all alone in this apartment with nothing butta old dying man. I betcha ain’t even
been outside in a year have you Hannah-Lee?” She grew frightened at his subtle insinuations and
wanted them to leave without delay.
“Alright, well I hope you found the problem and fixed it, I gotta get up for work tomorrow and
the days almost gone.” She laughed nervously and quickly.
“Well now hold on. You know what happens when you rush things like this right? People get all
upset and they just can’t seem to find order in their lives. A lot of people just can’t live with the
freedom of decent pipes.” Hannah-Lee’s eyes grew wide and she jumped up swiftly pointing
towards the door timidly.
“You guys are done now right, I really need some sleep and I think my Granddad is crying?” She
looked fearfully respectful.
“Well now you just sit on down until I tell you to get up. Will be off soon, and you can do
whatever you want.”
Nicholas appeared from the hallway and tilted his baseball cap towards Hannah-Lee and
gave a concluding, strict glance at Jude. “Looks like everything’s just fine here now, we fixed
the squeals it was makin, and we hope you can finally get some sleep tonight. You enjoy this
now honey and why don’t you go get some friends now? Your pipes don’t break and screech
anymore so you ain’t gotta ever come back here.” Nicholas and Jude stood up and left the
apartment quietly laughing. Nicholas recommended loudly “thirty-three years and not single damn
thanks!”
Hannah-Lee went to the kitchen to make her grandfather his evening meal, a simple feast of
bread and potatoes, when a crash from the restroom caused her to run towards the deafening bang.
The pipes were creaking and bawling loudly as ever and Hannah-Lee thought the repairmen must
have certainly been frauds. She went into the master bedroom to feed her grandfather but he was
unresponsive. His face had been covered with a blood-soaked pillow. Her Grandfather Raymond
Collins was finally dead, suffocated and executed. His legs were crossed over his frail and insipid ankles
and the palms of his pink hands were outstretched on either side. Her grandfather’s screams of
extraordinary pain was finally gone. The room emitted an irresistible silence that Hannah-Lee had gone
years without experiencing. She didn’t know whether to release a hoarse scream, or laugh with pent-up
relief. Hannah-Lee left her apartment that day for the final time and she smiled as she was faced with
her freedom.

 

Spacing?

 

For some reason it won't allow me to space. I realize it's very annoying.