The Painted Wallpaper

The Painted Wallpaper

A Story by Mandi
"

I've edited it extremely. If you see anymore edits be sure to let me know.

"

"I am a journalist." I tell this little boy who came up to me at work. "I write for the newspaper." He pulls out a little notepad and jots down my words.

          "Thank you sir, now my homework is done!" He runs across the room and disappears into the hallway.

          "Wow..." I say to myself. "Kids these days don't know what it means to be polite. He just barges in my office and asks me random questions. What else is going to interrupt my story?" I grab my pen and continue scribbling in the journal in front of me. After adjust my glasses, I take a sip from the mug of coffee that was beginning to lose its warmth. A loud buzz startles me, my coffee flings all over the written sheets of my journal. It flows off the edge of the desk and seeps into my pants. Luckily, the liquid wasn't extremely hot, but my pants go from beige to brown. I irritatingly push a button on the office phone, then clear my throat.

          "He-hello, this is Connor Martin?"

          "Yes, Connor? You have a meeting scheduled for 2:00 today. Did you forget?" reminds my assistant.

          "No, I didn't forget. Thanks for remin-" I glance at my watch, "What?! That's three minutes!"

          "Exactly why I called you..." She replies in a know it all tone, I hang up on her almost immediately gulp down the rest of my coffee and press a few paper towels to my pants. I comb through my vicious jet black hair, then run out the door with my briefcase and coat. 

          After climbing several stairs, I make it barely in time. As I walk to the door, my pace slows and I turn the handle. Before I walk in, I look down at my stained pants. I tie a cardigan around my waist, now it's hidden. I walk in and everybody is already seated so I find an empty chair and begin to sit down but my phone vibrates. 

          "What now?" I accidentally say aloud. As I pull the phone from my pocket, everybody watches. It was a text from my mom telling me to call her immediately. This is really important, I need your help! I want to blow off her text like usual, but knowing I shouldn't, I start to leave the room.

          "Hey guys," I tell everyone, "Sorry, I have to go. It's an emergency." I roll my eyes, "My mom insists."

     “We will pray for you.” Says Jenny, a strong Christian woman who obviously doesn't get that it probably isn't anything serious. So I walk outside but before I could dial the number, my phone vibrates again.

          “Hello,” I answer it. “Mom, I’m at work…” Static rustles in my ear, forcing me to pull the phone away. “Nothing is too important to interrupt me, mom, I’m in a meeting…Oh, maybe so…Mom? Can you hear me?” I walk closer to a window to try to get a better connection. “What sort of crime?” More static. “Well, I’m on my way. Mkay, bye.” I flip my phone closed and grab my keys and briefcase and head to my car. I jump in, start it and as I begin to drive try to call my mom again but she doesn't answer. All she really told me was that something went wrong at Uncle Losvey’s mansion. I’m assuming she wants me to go because, seeing that I’m his only nephew and since the house could be passed down to me in any case, I need to go support him. He was adopted when I was five years old, so he’s not even really my uncle, I’m older than him!

          I pull up in his enormous driveway, there are several police cars, an ambulance, and two large FBI trucks. Realizing that I can’t possibly fit in this driveway with how many cars that are filling it up, I drive my Chevy around to park it elsewhere.  When I find a place down the road and park, I have a ways to walk, so I think about the situation. Then I remember Mom told me that once a year Losvey has a ‘See the Sights’ day and people from all around come to explore his creations, arts, and just roam around his humongous house! I’m assuming that someone saw something beautiful and just couldn’t resist taking it. But why would there be ambulances? Maybe someone got hurt in the process. Stupid uncle, he should have known to have security browse around throughout the day to keep everything safe! Oh well, it's too late now.

          I finally arrive back at the house. There are fewer cars, I’m assuming because the officers are trying to lower the amount of people inside. It must be crowded! I take a glance at my surroundings. It is amazing already, just from the outside. The grass was full and a deep green. Flowers overflow the yard, adding color to it. And a large fountain, stained but admirable,  stands in the center of the yard, with a heap of flowers circling it. Soft mulch stretched around the edges of the house. It was simply beautiful. I'm assuming that you are not allowed in the yard without some sort of buzzer to go off, so I take the long walkway toward the front door. I am hoping just to cruise through the house, see what’s going on, see my uncle and find out if he needs anything (I’m sure there’s nothing I can do for him, he could just buy whatever he needs!), then leave. I need to get back to work.

          I turn the door handle and walk in. There is a spiral staircase moving up so high I can barely see the top. It ends by going through a hole in the ceiling and I gaze at it for a few more seconds then move on. There are police officers everywhere. And the clicks and static from their radios fill my ears. With so many officers, FBI agents, and sight seers, I expected it to be crowded. But the house was so large it could hold thousands of people! I stroll to the first room I see and take in everything as quickly as possible.

          He is an artist, my uncle, and better than I realized as I look at the various paintings enclosing me. I'm in some sort of study, and I figure he designs his own wallpaper because it had different swirly things that were very unique. Yes, now I remember, he had told me about wallpaper painting and how much fun it was. I was like, okay whatever, but now that I look at it, it's absolutely stunning!  I realize that I forgot how urgent my uncle needs me, and leave the study with all of its mysterious paintings.

          There are a bunch of FBI agents crowding around this one spot in the corner of the lobby that I am still lingering in trying to figure out where my uncle is. I hear gasps a few ten feet away, and quicken my pace to go check it out. Someone had opened the private door to the investigation and numerous police officers were trying to get everyone to step back. I shove through the crowd then an officer pushes against my chest. 

          "Get back." He commands me abruptly.             

          "I'm a relative." I tell him wearily. "I’m trying to find my uncle, the owner of this house. Do you know where he is?" He nods towards the door I was about to enter.

          "I don't think you want to go in there. It's a disaster."

          "Um, yeah I do. You see, I'm his nephew and his sister, my mom, told me that he needs me. So let me through! This is my uncle, I’m sure he wants to see me!” I chuckle inside my head at my speech, but I keep a straight face in confidence he will let me through.

          He gives me a grave look then stares deeply into my eyes. “How old are you?”

          “Um, I’m thirty five, why?” I answer.

          “How can you be his nephew if he was only thirty?”

          This startled me,  “Was…only thirty?”

          “Yeah…” He turns his head slightly as if he expects me to understand.

          “What do you mean? He was adopted when I was five. What’s the big deal? ”

          “Sir, he’s dead.”

          This catches me completely off guard, and my mind is hazy. Then the officer puts his hand on my shoulder and gives me a sneaky little expression.

          “I’m sorry.” The words shake me back to reality and I fall to my knees. The officer squats beside me,

          “It’s okay, sir.” He gives me the grave look again, and there is this fashion about him, but I can't put my finger on it. Unable to bear to look into his eyes, I turn away from him.

          "Yep, it's clear evidence. Losvey was stabbed to death." I hear someone state from around the corner. Murmurs filled the room and I’m beginning to get frustrated with the officers. Why are people still in here? Can't they send them away?

          I tell the officer that I want to see him. He looks at me and replies softly “I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you do that.” He gives a mischievous face, now I really hate him.

          I stand up and give the officer a mean grin, then head straight to the other side of the room. Just as I thought, there was another entry into the room, but another officer was guarding it too. Hopefully this guy was not like the other one.

          I tell him that I am a relative and that I need to see him one last time, that it won't matter how horrific it is, it won’t bother me. It probably won't, so I am telling the truth. I hardly even knew my uncle! Luckily, the officer lets me pass.

          Though I had to go through a few more intruders, I finally get inside the room. It was dark and stuffy, I can barely breathe. As I take a step onto the white carpet, someone grabs my arm then jerks me to the side.

          I turn my head to see who it was. An old man, looks like he was in his eighties, still holds a firm grip on my forearm. 

          "What do you want?" He has a surprisingly strong grip on my arm and it hurts. He points a shaky finger at the area I was walking in. A dark red splotch stained the carpet. 

          “Oh, thanks. I guess I would've stepped in it.” I pull away from him and he is still staring at me. I hold my gaze until I am fully turned around. Then I pivot to see if he is still looking at me, but he was gone. I stand there for a few seconds, confused and agitated. He was probably just some random person, so I continue searching for my uncle.

          I was still lingering at the door so I bring in the view I have of the room. There is a crowd of investigators surrounding a body. A clear sheet was strewn across the floor and blood covers part of it. I could see part of his body, and a repellent smell filled my nostrils. When I catch a glance of his body I cough fitfully and a sweep of nausea creeps over my stomach. His hair was a dark brown, and it was webbed against his scalp. His face was pale and he held the same position; spread across the sheet and his hands balled up and white. On his forehead he has a large bloody splotch. Skalp peels away from his head, revealing his skull. His shirt is stained with blood, and a deep cut centers into his chest. The people that are working on his body are ripping away his shirt to get a better view of the wound. It was deep and blood still pools inside it. His lips are getting paler by the minute, and I stand there, in consternation, wringing my hands together vigorously.

          I feel paralyzed. I thought this wouldn’t bother me, but it sure is! The gruesome sight still played in my mind as I finally leave the sight. I find a large sofa in the den to work through my notions. I sit there for about ten minutes, in deep thought. I believe I’m in shock, but no one seems to care as they still babble on and on about a painting or molding. Don’t they understand? My uncle, who did all this art, is dead! Killed! No more amazing pieces to be created! No more uncle. Dead, the end. I try to sort through everything, but a vibrate from my pocket interrupts me. Finally, it's my mom calling.

          “He-hello?” I answer it.

          “Hey, dear. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to tell you over the phone earlier. There was a lot of static so I couldn’t understand you. I thought I’d tell you later but Uncle Losvey was murdered. It wasn’t a burglary. I misinterpreted it, sorry honey.”

          “Yeah, well...I figured that out on my own.” I blink about five times then continue, “I saw his body.”

          “Was it bad?”

          I curse, explaining to her how gruesome it was.

          “Oh my gosh, I’m serious I thought he was just shot, and it was over. I had no clue it was that bad, I’m sorry for putting you through this dear.”

          “Why would someone kill him?”

          “Because they wanted the money.” A gruff voice came from behind me. I flip my phone closed then turn to see who is sitting next to me on the couch.

          It was the same guy I saw earlier! The old man who helped me when I almost stepped in the pool of blood. 
          “H-how do you know?” I ask, concerned that he was the killer.

          “I did it myself.” He states decadently. “I wanted money, and I got it. Now no one can stand in my way!”

          “Y-you killed my uncle?” I ask nervously, not even caring about the money he keeps bringing up.

          “No, of course not.” He replies hoarsely.

          “Then who did?”

          “That officer you were talking to earlier. He did me the favor, and jabbed the knife through his heart.”

          Another voice comes from the other side of me on the sofa.

          “Yeah, and it went through smoothly.” It is the bratty officer from earlier. His clothes are different now; shabby and old. He continues taunting me, “Oh, the pleasure! I’d been at Losvey for a while, when Jerry came to me with an offer, I jumped at it!”

          Jerry chuckles. He rubs his whiskers and smiles, tobacco juice running down his chin. “Tell the little guy more about how much fun it was killin’ the rich kid. Eheehee!” Both of the men are on each side of me, holding firmly to my arms, there is no way I can escape! 

          “Okay, so I found him in his office, looking through some papers. I had my dagger behind my back the whole time, I was dressed in my police outfit, no matter how girly it looks, then I walked up to him and told him to come here, something urgent had come up. He stood quickly and walked over to me,” The tattered ‘officer’ continues viciously. He grabs my shirt with his other arm and lifts me off the sofa, demonstrating the act. “I took him like this,” He pulls my neck back by grabbing my forehead, and then catches both my hands with one of his. Then he curses at me. “I told him about the money I wanted, that I was working for Jerry, and that I had to kill him.” He pushes my body forward, still having a firm grip on both my wrists, and still clinging to my face, he forces my head up against his chest. It was a very uncomfortable position, he had thrust my body so far forward, it was as if my body was leaving my neck behind. He spits in my face, and continues brutally, letting go of my hands to grab his dagger, he presses it so hard into my neck I could feel blood trickle down my skin. I gasp for air and Jerry laughs harshly.

          “Wait to go, Johnny!” He stood up clapping. “I’ll go close the door so that you can finish him off too!”

          “Why do I need to kill him? I was just messing around.” Yells Johnny.

          “Because this house is going to be passed down to him! If we kill him, then you can pretend to be him, we’ll fix you up, and we can have the house, money, and paintings to ourselves!” He laughs greedily while shutting the door and locking it.  How stupid he was, to think that he could get that stringent man to ever look like me! I realize that Johnny was going to kill me and stiffened, expecting the worst. "Now take a stab at him!" 

          Johnny laughs in agreement, and I start to breathe heavily. Oh God, help me! What was I talking about? Not even God can help me. I take one last breathe and hold it and as Johnny slowly pushes the dagger into my chest. A jolt of pain causes tears in my eyes. I can still hear Johnny laughing, but it was hazy, and my vision blurs. He was having his fun now, slowly, agonizingly pushing the blade into my heart. The pain was excruciating. I could barely breathe. I let out a horrific scream and soon heard a gunshot. Then my vision got really watery, like I was crying. But the tears was red. It looks as if I am looking through watery red glasses. I was looking through blood. Then everything went black.

          Darkness fell upon me,  I'm sure I am dead. But suddenly I feel a warm hand caress my forearm and a damp cheek press against mine. Slowly, but steadily, my eyesight returns. I pull in my surroundings and everything makes sense. I am in a hospital bed, my mother is laying her face against mine, and I fell safe; secure. I notice my dad sitting in a chair, my aunt and sister asleep together on an extra bed. I cannot wait to hug them all. Tell them how much I love them, yet tell them briefly what I went through. I do not want to terrify them, so I will tell the story with ease.

          My chest is giving me a good deal of pain, but I am alive. I want to jump up and shout with joy! But I have to control myself. No one has seen yet that I am awake, so I want to surprise them. I slowly move my hand to my mom’s face. I wipe her tears away, and whisper into her ear, hoping to awaken her. My breath probably smells like foreign cow manure, but she won't care. She loves me too much, I admit. So I decide what to whisper to her. 

          “I love you so much, Mom. You’re amazing.” I murmur.

          She awakens almost immediately and lifts her head off mine; it was beginning to hurt my sore neck. She yawns and turns her face toward mine. I close my eyes quickly, deciding this will not be the best time to show her I am okay, so I pretend to still be in a coma.

          “Howard!” She whispers to my dad.

          “What?” He whispers back.

          “I dreamed that Connor was awake. He whispered to me that he loved me and that I was amazing.” She broke out into tears, and I just couldn’t stand it! Dad walks over to comfort her and she bites her lip as she looks at my face. I narrow my eyes so slightly, that it’s almost like I am peeking from under my eyelid. It is not obvious, but I could still see her. I feel like a little kid playing hide and seek. I do not know why but I do. I decide this is the perfect time to let them know.

          “It wasn’t a dream, Mom.” I say, still leaving my eyes closed. Then I open them and they both start to cry. I feel pain when they take turns hugging me, but I don’t care. The doctor runs in to see what was going on, and then says she needs to take a look at my chest. She is really annoying because she keeps on saying, “Mhmm.” Her hands were freezing as they slowly press against my wound. I grimace, hoping she’ll be done soon.

          “Okay, I need to change the bandage.”

          Now I freak out.

                                                            One Month Later

              I step inside my new home, still astounded by its beauty. I own it now! After a month of healing and packing I am finally moving in. The mansion is mine! Of course, I am letting my parents and sister move in too, I even think my aunt is. They are all surprised by the house too, because we had never taken the time to visit Losvey. We all go in together and it’s amazing. Nobody is in here, like my other entry, so everything looks cleaner and more inviting. I have looked through every room except one; it is supposedly the most surprising. So I saved it for last. I tell the rest of my family to look around some more while I go and visit the last room of the house.

              It’s the room next to where Jerry and Johnny almost killed me, luckily they are behind bars. The story that my mom found out was that at the exact moment Johnny was plunging the dagger into my heart, a real police officer had heard my piercing scream and burst through the door. He shot Johnny before he could get the blade completely through my chest to pierce my heart. Later, in the newspaper, the officer that saved me was quoted. “That man has the most horrifying scream I’ve have ever heard!” I still laugh at it as I open the door to the mysterious room.

              The first thing I do is turn on the light. It’s really misty in the room, and the first thing that I see is the painted wallpaper. I fall to my knees…sobbing. The wall was painted a picture of sadness, grief, but love. There were large strokes of black, white, and grey creating a weary sky. A green hill was surrounded by little peasants and roman soldiers. At the top of the hill implanted a sturdy, carved cross. Tears are streaming down my cheeks and dripping into my lap. I look at the body that hung heavily from the arms of the magnificent tree. Blood pours down his face and both his eyes are blue and swollen. I stand up and touch his face, the blood felt cold and damp, I look at my hand, I can almost feel the paint. The blood drops stuck out and felt hard. The man is naked and his skin was ripped around his chest. His rib bones were visible and I cry openly, letting tears gush down my cheeks. The man, who I now know as Jesus Christ, had been whipped. I want to scream out my thanks to him, for taking the punishment of my sin. I had learned about this man at church but never fully understood what he had done. Now I do.

              A crown made of thorns dug deeply into his skull, I discover dark fresh blood spilling into his ears. My Savior! My God! He saved me not only once, but he saved me when I desperately asked God to help me when I was almost killed. The dagger was nothing compared to what he went through.

              “I am forever thankful!” I cry out. My voice cracks as I say, “I love you.” to him for the first time in my entire life. His returning love for me surges throughout my body and I feel his presence. My body shakes with emotion, my passion for him grows as I gaze at the picture; touched. Astounded, I lay face down, bowing to my savior. The scar on my chest no longer hurt because I knew his blood was shed for me. I feel my heart beat steadily; I have the rest of my life to return the generous favor that I will never completely fulfill. But I will try my best, as I am surrounded by the beauty of the cross.

© 2011 Mandi


Author's Note

Mandi
what do you think? be sure to give me feedback on whatever you want. Just please take a few minutes to tell me, i really want to improve this piece. I've edited it thoroughly. If you see anymore edits be sure to let me know.

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Reviews

wow it is definitly awsome, I really believe with a little more work it could be even better. Awsome write!!

Posted 14 Years Ago


You really have something there. Just needs a little polish,

Posted 14 Years Ago


I liked this, I found inspiration in this.
It's a most moving write, I even found
action and suspense in this.
I liked the dialouge, I think it is fitting and
works out for what you are writing about.
I think it fits well as you mixed the past
With the future. It reads well.
Very well written and well presented.
You have a point made so I think all in all
You write an amazing write here.



Posted 14 Years Ago


I liked the idea of this story, and with a little work on the typos, it could be a lot better. The beginning seemed a little rushed to me, and it had an air about it that i couldn't quite place. It seemed like you kind of barely told us about how you got to the house when your mom told you about the crime, and they you were parking and coming to a conclusion almost instantly. And when I say this, I don't mean describe the situation more, just put it more thought process. The dialogue was good, and seemed like something people would actually say.
All in all, a good piece with a few rough patches.

Posted 14 Years Ago


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Ben
This was good, but there are a few mistakes and things you might want to know. First off, you didn't say if the character was a male or female, what his name was, or anything like that. I think you should introduce him a little more. The dialogue, (For once!) sounded natural to me. You did a whole lot more description than you normally did, and I think you should not have told so much. I know it's important to tell everyone what the scene looks like, but I think you did it a little more than you needed to. But, since you hardly ever do it, it was good! I didn't really see any other things, but some grammar, but you don't want those so... Great job! (I hope that was good enough for you.) Keep it up! Love ya!

Posted 14 Years Ago


It was a great storyline. I enjoyed the general message of the man finding and understand Christ and His purpose. Some parts in the beginning seemed kind of rushed, but other than that, it was pretty good to me.


God bless you.



Posted 14 Years Ago



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Added on September 11, 2009
Last Updated on April 23, 2011

Author

Mandi
Mandi

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