The Mural
Photo by Luis Quintero from Pexels
She peered through the window to see it.
The famous mural that everyone had been talking about. Adrienne’s friend Mary said she was going to sneak over to see it yesterday, but she couldn’t reach her to actually find out if she had, so she decided to go have a look for herself.
It is interesting, she thought. It was an exact replica of the inside of the house and covered the entire north side of the sitting room wall. The house the mural depicted was jam-packed, with people in every room. Some of them had wide, beaming smiles on their faces, while some just looked confused.
Adrienne was amazed. The artist had somehow captured every little detail in the mural, right down to the cracks in the hardwood floors. Weird, she thought, questioning how, even though no one had lived in the house for years, the mural was so intact.
“Would you like to come in and have a closer look?” an old, white-haired lady asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
Startled, Adrienne whipped around to see the woman peering around the edge of the porch, watching her on the side of the house. “Oh! I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone lived here,” she stammered.
“You’re right, young lady. No one has lived here for a very long time. But this house has been in my family for generations, so I come down every now and then to clean the place and then I go back home,” she answered. “Now, I ask again, would you like to come in and get a better look at my mural?”
Adrienne was a little hesitant, gnawing on her bottom lip as she contemplated. What the hell, she thought, I’m a 23-year-old woman. Pretty sure I can handle a little old lady if things get out of hand. “Sure. I’d love to get a closer look, that mural is gorgeous.”
Once inside, Adrienne walked straight up to the wall. She noticed that there were more people in it than she estimated. “Wow,” she stated in astonishment. “This is even more beautiful up close. The view from the window doesn’t do it any justice.”
The old lady, who introduced herself as Mrs. Moore, told her to make herself at home while she made them some tea. As Adrienne sat waiting, she couldn’t help but stare at the colorful image that stretched across the wall in front of her. She didn’t know why, but there was a sense of familiarity in the painting. But whatever it was, she couldn’t really put her finger on it. What is it about this picture? she whispered to herself.
Just then, Mrs. Moore returned to the sitting room and placed a silver tea set on the small coffee table before them. “Now my dear,” she started. “Did you come here just to view my mural?”
“Uhhh, well…”
“It’s okay. I’ve seen several people come by to get a look from time to time. However, not everyone gets to view it up close and personal. I’d say you’re special.”
“What’s the history behind this painting?” Adrienne asked, genuinely intrigued.
Sitting her cup down, the old lady began.
“My late brother was the artist in our family.
Oh, he just loved it, from the very first time he could pick up a paintbrush,” she reminisced, a warm smile on her face. “In high school, he was one of the best artists in his class. He won all the art competitions, through and through. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more.”
“Throughout his college years, his professors and most of his peers were amazed at what he could do with a little bit of color and technique. And yet, he wasn’t fulfilled. He always used to say how he wanted something that no one else had. Something real and magical. Something he could hold on to even when he was gone. He wanted to be a literal part of what he loved so much. This mural is the last thing he painted before he died. We found him lying face down with his paintbrush still in his hand. He had dropped dead of a heart attack.”
“Oh my! I’m so sorry!” Adrienne exclaimed.
“Yes…so am I,” Mrs. Moore agreed as she stared intently at Adrienne.
Adrienne’s focus went back to the mural. She got up from the sofa and wandered over to get a closer look when suddenly, it hit her. Now I know why this feels so familiar, she thought. She studied the face of one young man in the painting. He looked eerily similar to the one who had gone missing four months prior. Her gaze swept the image once more. “Wait a minute,” she whispered. She moved her face closer, her nose just an inch or two away from the wall. What she saw nearly knocked her off her feet. Mary! In the mural, Mary was wearing the exact same attire she’d been wearing when Adrienne saw her last. Her light blue jeans, white shirt, and pink sweater were just as vivid now as they were the day Mary visited the house.
Adrienne’s insides sank with fear as she eased away from the wall. “What the hell is this..." she said to herself, her eyes growing wide with horror as the image began to shift in real-time.
Within the mural, she noticed a figure--no, herself--fading into the image right around the front door she had come through earlier. Her wind-blown hair, her royal blue sweater, black jeans, and even her black tennis shoes were all there. “How is this possible?!” she screamed as she whipped around to a grinning Mrs. Moore. “Oh my God,” Adrienne gasped, suddenly feeling lethargic. “What did you do to me?” She gripped the side of her head as she sank to her knees.
Mrs. Moore inched over and came to stand directly in front of her. “You should have stayed away, my dear. Your friend Mary--lovely girl--said that you’d come looking for her, and that ‘I wouldn’t get away with it,’” She smirked. “I guess she was as wrong.” She squatted down and looked deeply into Adrienne’s eyes. “You meddling kids never learn: Curiosity will get you nowhere.”
In one quick movement, Mrs. Moore grabbed either side of Adrienne's face and sharply turned her head back towards the mural. Every last eye on the painting was staring straight at her. Adrienne screamed, horrified. “You see the older gentleman standing off in the background by himself?" the old lady whispered. "That's my beloved brother. He finally found what he’d been looking for. Something magical and real, that no one else has. Now, my dear, that includes you.” Mrs. Moore watched, delighted, as the arms came out of the mural to welcome Adrienne as a permanent part of the “family”.