House of Bones

Chapter One

The trees seemed to come alive under the bright moonlight, casting shadows and twisted evil looking silhouettes onto the road. The Volvo estate drove along the road, its headlights piercing the blackness in front and reflecting off the road markings.

Inside the car, the discussions between husband and wife, Chris and Melanie turned to the embarrassment of the night. They had been arguing more and more recently, even over trivial things like the post but on this occasion things had been much worse.

They had attended a works night out for Chris; he worked for a software company as the marketing director whilst Melanie worked as a freelance writer as an agony aunt. She had not wanted to attend, especially as it meant taking their son Mike along with them.

Chris had been approached by a drunken colleague who had made an inappropriate advance towards him, just as Melanie had returned from the bathroom with Mike. Although it was an innocent encounter fuelled by alcohol Melanie accused Chris of an affair in front of his colleagues.

Despite trying to reason with his wife, the altercation had drawn enough of an audience that they had to leave.

The humiliation that Chris felt was enough to cause them to argue in the car. Mike had been told to put his headphones on and listen to some music whilst mummy and daddy spoke.

Both parties felt that the other had let them down, and no matter which way they tried to explain their opinion, they just could not quite get it across.

As a couple, they had been childhood sweethearts, and been together for almost fourteen years, marrying young at eighteen. Most people at the time had said they would never last and that, that age was too young to marry.

Melanie had always been stubborn and they often both joked about them taking on the world together, and damn the consequences.

Five years ago they were blessed with the birth of their only child Mike; they had tried to have children for six years and had been told it would be unlikely without IVF treatment.

A month before they were due to start the expensive treatment Melanie had fallen pregnant.

The pregnancy itself was not a smooth one, but this seemed to just strengthen their relationship further.

That was until Mike was born, as parents they were the most doting, but their relationship became fractured as Melanie struggled with how her body had changed, feeling that she was not attractive anymore.

Chris, no matter how much he tried could not convince his wife that in his eyes she had not changed from the day they met, and that he loved her with every part of himself.

The arguments had started small, the truth was it was a way for both parties to lash out at each other, to make sure they were in control; it had become a game neither of them were willing to lose.

The escalating arguments caused them to decide to buy a property and move away, to try and repair their broken relationship. They had found a run-down little house within a wooded area on the outskirts of a small town. Chris had agreed that he would travel into work which was about an hour and a half drive and would work from home for at least two days a week.

As a couple they hoped the renovation of a new home for all of them would provide them the opportunity to resolve the issues they had. To rebuild their relationship as a family before it went beyond repair.

Suddenly a deer appeared, darting across the road in front of the vehicle. The argument had distracted Chris enough that he had not noticed it, turning back to the road he reacted too late, turning the steering wheel violently.

The speed caused this sudden change of direction to flip the car as for a split second everything inside seemed to float as if in zero gravity before that horrific sound of metal crashing into concrete.

The car continued to roll out of control and down the roadside embankment, colliding into a tree and stopping the mangled car wreck in its tracks.

Screams pierced the night air as Chris and Melanie came too, disorientated and shocked as to what had happened. Turning to Melanie, Chris spoke

Mel, are you okay?

She wiped the blood and hair from her forehead as she tried to move.

I think so

Their attention was turned to the rear of the vehicle, their son Mike was nowhere to be seen.

He had been safely strapped into the car when they had left, only now the mix of glass and mangled metal was empty, his booster seat gone.

In sheer panic both Chris and Melanie frantically tried unfastening their seatbelts, and clambered out of the wreck.

Chris had a large gash down his leg, it was pouring with blood and the pain was excruciating however the desperation to find Mike quelled it from his thoughts.

Melanie desperately searched the back of the car, with no evidence of him.

Chris looked up towards the road, a trail of debris left in the cars path; his heart sank as he scanned the discarded parts, knowing already what he would find.

Mike, Mike where are you?

Melanie screamed. Her desperate pleas becoming more intense with each burst, that was until she noticed Chris on his knees a few feet from the road. He had his back to her but she could tell he was crying as his shoulders were uncontrollably shaking.

She stumbled over to Chris, fighting the urge not to look but needing to know what had happened. The carnage that lay out across the road made her heart sink as Chris knelt cradling their son in his arms, his skin painted a bright shade of red as his eyes gazed upwards with no flickering of life in them.

Melanie awoke from those horrific visions crying uncontrollably as Chris tried to comfort her. Two months had passed since that night, since the night they lost their son. As she moved towards the bathroom she passed piles of boxes full of their belongings as they prepared to leave their family home.

The bathroom light flickered and Mel rested her hands on the sink, the bandages around her wrists still wound tightly before sitting down on the toilet and sobbing without care.

Chris limped into the bathroom; his leg had started to heal but was told he would never be able to do any sport, and that he would be lucky if he would recover fully. The physical scars were nothing compared to the emotional ones they felt. He reached into the bathroom cabinet and took some tablets out and poured a small glass of water from the sink before handing them to Mel. He gingerly knelt down in front of her so that he was at the same height and offered them to her, unsure of how to comfort a mother who had lost her child whilst still dealing with his own pain.

Mel’s own mother had left when she was only five and she had been brought up by her father. In most circumstances you would have expected for the two of them to have a strong relationship but her dad, Harry had started drinking when her mum had left, this fuelled his already short temperament and he had developed a habit of taking it out on Mel. When Mel and Chris had met, it was the first time she had felt completely loved and she quickly moved into Chris’s parents’ house at seventeen. She had seen very little of her father after this point, choosing to never forgive him for what he did. Occasionally she had shown flashes of anger but always controlled it, remembering how her father had been and swearing that she would never become the same person as he was.

Chris on the other hand had grown up with both parents providing a stable, homely environment and they embraced Mel as their own daughter and although they believed that they were too young to marry, they supported them in their decision. They had not had Chris until they were in their forties and as such had been older than the normal parents that were seen at school. Their health had deteriorated significantly before passing away within months of each other; first his father before his mother gave up the fight, as though she had chosen to be reunited with him as soon as the time was right. Both Chris and Mel had known loss, but this was different, almost impossible to quantify the meaning.

Mel struggled to choke back her tears long enough to take the tablets presented to her, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from the seemingly endless river of tears. Chris hated seeing Mel this way, he felt completely helpless but pulled the hair from her face gently before cupping her cheek with the palm of his hand.

I love you Mel, and I promise we’ll get through this… somehow

It was a comment that even he found hard to believe, the black hole that had been left from that night had affected them both deeply. He placed his arm around her shoulders and walked her back into the bedroom before she got back into bed and he lay behind her, holding her and stroking her hair the way a parent sometimes comforts a child. Eventually the tablets started taking effect, and she drifted off to sleep leaving Chris with his own guilt ridden thoughts. Every night had been the same, he racked his memory banks to try and piece together what had gone wrong, as if reliving those events would somehow change the course of history. Had Mike unfastened his seatbelt whilst they had been arguing? Normally they would have scolded him if he had tried to do that but the argument had been such a big distraction that maybe that was what had happened. He tried desperately to remember if he had been driving angry, the way you occasionally have a heavy foot on the accelerator, unaware of the speed that you are actually travelling at but as hard as he tried they seemed to blur into one big nightmarish vision.

They had both been given time off indefinitely from their work places to deal with their loss but for Chris it meant less distractions and more time to think about the things he could have done to prevent it happening.

He was lucky if he slept three hours each night, choosing to make sure Mel was okay first. His fear that if he took a sleeping tablet one night she might wake in such a state that she attempted her own life again. The doctors had warned him that she was a potential suicide risk; she had become a shadow of the person he knew and loved. Partly down to the medication, but mainly through the inability to deal with such a significant loss.

Instead he chose to fill his mind with tasks, a checklist of jobs to do before they relocate to their new house. He had decided that the best thing for both of them was to go through with the move, to relocate away from what had been their family home for the past eight years. Away from the place that was still filled with the laughter and memories of their son.

He hoped that it might allow for them to somehow rebuild what was left of their fragile relationship. That somehow a new home would help them heal, that the seclusion that it offered would also allow them to grieve in their own way.

As the tears started to run down Chris’s face he cleared his throat before firstly making sure Mel was asleep then making his way downstairs to the kitchen.

Boxes were strewn down the halls and rooms with the exception of one, Mike’s room remained untouched. He gazed inside, expecting, hoping beyond hope that Mike would be lying in bed snoring away like he did when he checked on him during the night. His bed lay empty and untouched, the sheets still turned over from the last time he had slept in them. Unlike the other rooms which were mostly packed and stored away this was a fully decorated, fully furnished glimpse of the past.

The kitchen was as much a mess as the other rooms; it was only a few more days before the moving van would turn up and collect all their things. He went straight to a draw and pulled out a small bottle of prescribed tablets, they were intended to numb the pain of his leg but in all honesty Chris had found them to take the edge off everything. He threw three back as he swigged a mouthful of water from a bottle that was on the kitchen table.

He sat down and massaged his leg, the mangled flesh seemed to slowly be knitting back together although a significant part was now missing and the forced limp that he had now inherited, was a constant and permanent reminder of a time he would rather forget.

A photo album was out on the side which he slowly opened at the beginning, showing pictures of his own childhood with his parents, celebrating his fifth birthday. He slowly flicked the pages taking in the images of his life, like looking at a story of someone else.

What do I do Dad? How do I get us through this?

His voice was slightly less shaky now as he fought back the desire to cry. Throughout his life his Dad had been a source of support, they had often talked about problems that Chris and Mel were going through and he had always been able to provide the right advice. Chris missed his parents more now than ever, knowing that at the moment, he needed to be there for Mel, and that somehow he had to cope on his own. He could almost hear his dad say in that reassuring, all knowing tone he demonstrated;

Anything that’s worth something in life is worth fighting for son

Even without his Dad being there it somehow managed to make him feel better. He closed the book, stopping at the wedding pictures of Mel and himself, not wanting to view pictures of Mike, as if it would be too difficult to stay strong. Looking around the kitchen he picked up another box to continue packing. Chris knew there would be little chance of sleeping so better to keep busy in any way possible, at least for now.

He knew that he would need all his strength for the day they have to pack all of Mike’s things together. That it would be yet another entry into the worst day of his life nominations.

Chapter Two

The final few boxes were packed away as Chris and Mel turned their attention to Mike’s room. A few of their friends that they had met whilst working had offered to help them pack and remove boxes from the house. It had been greatly appreciated at the time but somehow now they seemed to be distractions and obstacles with the faces of people etched with the empathetic pain that they felt for their loss. Without saying anything their furrowed brows and forced smiles seemed to speak volumes, attempting to reassure the couple that everything would eventually be okay.

This house had been the first one they had bought together, a three storey property that had a small garden and three bedrooms. Mike’s bedroom had been at the end of the hall on the top floor, just opposite his parent’s room and the house had been filled with sentimental knick knacks that both Chris and Mel had collected as reminders of their struggle in the past.

The morning had been difficult, as slowly all of their son’s possessions were boxed away; they had no intention of throwing them out and had agreed that although he had gone they would keep everything until they were willing to let him go.

Mel had spent much of this time crying in between smelling clothes that she had seen Mike wearing. His lamp and globe of the earth had been stored away and his room’s character began to slowly disappear like an ever fading spirit.

Eventually the room was sparse; with only the pale blue walls, and the marks on the door frame carefully indicating years passed and marks for heights. Chris had to physically remove Mel from the room as a driver in the van came in indicating they were about to leave. Her cries of despair seemed to echo around the rooms, a painful heart wrenching sound that made anyone who heard it want to breakdown and shed a tear.

Chris once again gave her a couple of tablets and proceeded to lead her out, one arm around her waist as she leant against him for support. She managed to climb into the passenger seat of their new car. An SUV that provided a higher seated position which might have stuck to the road that night, instead of flipping over. Chris carefully fastened her seat belt as she looked up at him, for what seemed like the first time in weeks, behind her eyes was a glimpse of his wife. She did not need to say anything to him; he already knew that she loved him. Arguments aside they had a connection deep down that everyone searches for and few find. They were soul mates and when one of them was hurting the other would heal them.

Chris returned to the front of the house, where their friends had gathered to wish them goodbye. He was not one for long, drawn out farewells, fearing in part to changing his mind about leaving.

You take care of each other now Chris, and let us know when you have settled in said Cynthia.

She had been their next door neighbour from the moment they had moved in, her husband Philip was the quiet sort, choosing not to bother the couple unless he had reason to. Occasionally that had happened when Mike had kicked his ball over the fence. Those small annoyances that used to get on his nerves, seemed like they were a million miles away now. They had been incredibly supportive since that night, helping to organise the wake before providing enough casseroles and lasagne’s to feed the country of Italy let alone a couple who had lost all sense of appetite.

Chris did the rounds, hugging and shaking the hands of the small group who had lent a hand and moved slowly back towards the car. The van had pulled away and was already down the street as Chris got to the driver’s side and opened the door. He wiped a tear away from his eye as he took one last look at the house and clambered inside, trying to remember the good times seen within those walls.

The drive would be at least an hour and a half, without traffic, and he wanted to make sure he could make the journey in one go. He dare not risk driving if he was upset or not concentrating, not now, not again.

As the engine purred into life he adjusted his hands on the wheel, gripping them tight before putting the car into gear. Mel’s hand almost subconsciously reacted to his own anguish and she squeezed his arm, a small acknowledgement that she was their supporting him as well.

The roads seemed to empty in front of them, as if a funeral precession had taken place with people looking on at the lead car. As the morning ebbed away Mel seemed to sleep, occasionally opening her eyes to gaze blankly out of the window at the scenery as they drove past. Frequently Mike would just rub his hand on her thigh, making sure that silently she was alright.

By lunchtime they were nearing their destination, a town called Shipton. It was a sleepy suburb on the outskirts of a busy, rapidly growing town. As they saw the sign welcoming those to their new home a few small posters were attached to a make shift notice board just next to it. Chris slowed down, straining his eyes to make out what they were indicating. A few missing people posters were attached but nothing out of the ordinary or at least not in any great number.

The new house was located on the very edge of town, in a densely wooded area that had long since tried to retake it for itself. It had once been a game keeper’s lodge that had joined onto the Standish Estate although no one had lived in this house for over forty years and the place had not been cared for probably nearly as long.

Chris and Mel had always been keen to renovate and revive old properties and she had fallen in love with the place when they had brought Mike to view it almost five months ago. Although it had been structurally checked out they had been advised that it could become a money pit as it was impossible to tell what else might need doing to the remote property. This piece of information seemed to merely inspire the two of them to take on the project and they could envision Mike running around out the back, with plenty of space and opportunities to explore; only now it would be their last resort at escaping from the pain they felt.

The track leading up to the house had been cut back just enough to allow a car to get through, but on either side of the driveway were the dark and dense foliage slowly creeping out across the dirt track. This track went all the way up to what would have been the front garden, a small rickety fence seemed to disappear in amongst the long grass as a small path led up to the front porch.

A wooden step led up to a veranda which had two very large Oak beams at either end, propping up the sloped roof that covered the entrance. The windows that had once been broken had been replaced as one of the few things they had been able to get finished before moving in. The original plan had been to remodel the home and decorate for a period of a few months before moving but those plans changed as they found more important challenges to deal with.

The door had also been replaced with a strong, sturdy wooden slab that had four small panes of glass at the top which arched, allowing for a glimpse of sunlight to shine through.

The van had already arrived and as they pulled up, Chris could hear one of the removal men saying what a dump before being told to shut up by someone who obviously had more tact than him. Chris stopped a little away from the rear of the removal truck as he gently stirred Mel from her slumber.

Were here sweetheart

Opening the door she pulled herself out of the car and wandered over to the front door as if on automatic pilot, hardly surveying their new home or its dilapidated state. She disappeared inside to start unpacking their bedroom boxes, although there was little emotion showed about their new purchase at least for the time being she was not crying for Mike.

The van took a little over two hours to empty its contents, boxes piled up in each room, scribbled on them in a big black marker was the instruction as to which room they belonged in. Chris continued to supervise out the front until from within the house came a commotion.

It says on the box, bedroom you idiot not Kitchen. Can you people not get anything right!!

Undoubtedly this was the voice of Mel; she had snapped at one of the removal men and had lashed out. It was the first signs of anything human from her in weeks. Chris ran inside as the scalded man left the room passing Chris in the hallway as he made a reference to her sanity.

Your wife is mental

He came into the kitchen to find a single box tipped upside down on the floor, its contents spilling across the tired wooden floorboards. Mel stood, hands on the sink trying to steady herself as she looked out of the window to the overgrown back garden and the trees at the end.

Mel, calm down, it’s alright we can sort the boxes out after

Her face looked like thunder as she turned to Chris, her bottom lip curled and her brow had anger etched all over it.

"It’s not alright Chris, have you seen this place? What were we