Between The Walls

Chapter 12

It has been five days since Isabelle's last encounter with Brahms. The real Brahms. He stayed true to his word, and never bothered her or showed himself again. It was as if the whole incident never happened. And sometimes, it makes her wonder if it was all a dream.

Nope, the hole in the wall proves otherwise, she thought.

The whole situation she finds herself in is...weird. Just a week ago, she signed up for a babysitting ad she saw on the newspaper. The child she's supposed to take care of turned out to be a doll. Her employers left her alone to take care of their "son", not telling her that they never intend to come back. Then their actual son shows up and threatened to lock her in the wall with him if she ever tries to leave.

She shook her head as she continued kneading the dough in front of her. She's bored, and decided to make some custard bread for herself and...Brahms.

She wondered what he's doing right now. She did not want to, but she somehow feels bad for him. He's all alone in his wall, how does he usually spend his days? She could not imagine what he must be feeling.

The sound of clattering objects made her stop her kneading.

"Brahms?" she called. No one answered.

Trying to push her nervousness away, she continued kneading. Maybe it was just her paranoia getting to her. As much as she feels bad for Brahms, she's still very much scared of him.

Putting the dough in a bowl, she covered it in plastic and left it to rise. She then checked the freezer for the leftover lunch she left for Brahms. The plate is now empty. It somehow made her happy to know that he's at least eating well.

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The custard bread is done. It turned out soft and fluffy, which pleased her. She cut it in half and put half of it on a plate to take to her room, and the other half on the freezer. 

Satisfied with her work, she decided to take a rest.

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She must've dosed off. When she woke up, rain is already heavily pouring outside. She jumped as she remembered her laundry. The sheets that she hanged to dry outside must've been soaking wet right now.

How ironic, she thought to herself.

She made a quick work of gathering the sheets which as she expected, are now soaked. She was in such a hurry that she did not notice a figure slowly approaching her from behind. It was too late when she took notice of his presence. He hit her head with a rod.