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kyli-howard · 9 months

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The Woman and Her Garden of Statues [A Short Story]

There were many names for the woman in the town nearby.

They would be whispered between friends during coffee. Or shared between families at storytime. Or scribbled on the wall of a public bathroom.

The woman in the mansion. The lonely woman on the hill. The woman who hid from the world.

She had become a folktale for the town, but no one truly knew her name. Or maybe they just never said it.

No one ever saw her, but they all shared this understanding.

She was painfully beautiful. Long hair that was soft to the touch and flowed perfectly in the wind. Kind eyes that held small secrets. A perfect mix of mysterious and inviting. Her skin was flawless. It would feel like silk if touched.

She was everyone's fantasy.

The definition of perfection that could haunt the vision of men and women alike. So many had sworn that they had seen her in their dreams. That she reached out to them, looking for the company that she had been closed off from for so long.

Curiosity was a natural part of living in this small town.

Wondering what sat in the large house at the top of the hill. Behind the iron gate, what would be found? Why would one woman stay there alone by choice? What could one woman do to make such a large home feel less empty?

Lyla was much like the people around her.

She wondered about the woman on the hill.

However, she never wondered why the woman wanted to be alone. She only wondered about how that life has treated her. Was she happy? Was she miserable? Was it lonely?

The questions seemed to circle Lyla's mind whenever she was just on the verge of sleep, tempting her to stay up until the early hours of the morning and come up with theories about how living that way could feel.

One night, everything changed.

The questions had gone beyond the verge of Lyla's tired mind.

Lyla had fallen asleep on her couch, not getting the chance to entertain her thoughts of the woman on the hill.

Her dreams had to pay the price for that crime.

Lyla found herself walking through the doorway of a mansion. She was looking for something, she knew it. She could feel the pulling in her chest and the slight tingle at the end of her fingers. Her body knew better than her mind.

She looked around the room.

Beautiful building. Wood floors and light walls. A staircase reached up near the front door. Gorgeous art lined the walls. Plants and statues took up many of the empty spaces. The light fixtures alone probably cost more than Lyla's car. If this was just the entrance, the rest of the house must have looked like a museum.

Lyla let out a breath. What was she trying to find?

Like answering the question that Lyla had yet to ask, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall upstairs.

"There you are," Lyla looked at the staircase. The air was nearly knocked from her lungs.

She had never seen the woman on the hill before, but she knew in her heart that this was her. Or how Lyla's brain saw her.

Long brown hair and kind brown eyes. A lovely dress that looked like it had been designed for her. Absolutely beautiful.

"Come on," the woman grabbed Lyla's hand and started pulling her through the house.

Why was Lyla here?

"I have some more books for you."

Lyla looked down at the book that she hadn't noticed sitting in her hand.

Yeah, that was right. She had been here to pick up some books.

The pair had made it to the study soon after.

Lyla stood in the doorway to the room, taking a moment to admire it.

A desk was made of dark wood, designed to match the bookshelves that covered almost every part of the walls. The chair at that desk had an emerald cushion with gold details, much like the couch that sat on the free part of the wall and the window seat that was behind the desk. Two more similar chairs sat by a small round table. Perfectly comfortable. Lyla could imagine spending her afternoons here with a book.

The woman had walked ahead of Lyla. She instead grabbed the sliding ladder and climbed up to one of the top shelves. So much grace that if Lyla hadn't seen the ladder, she would think that the woman had floated up.

The woman's hand grasped around a leather-bound book. It had been worn, the silver lettering on the spine had since been mostly scraped off and you could see the marks in the leather from where the book had been dropped or scratched.

Lyla watched the woman come down to meet her with a smile.

"Here it is," she said happily, holding it out to Lyla. Lyla traded books with her.

She gently opened the cover of the new book as the woman moved the ladder so she could put away the book that Lyla had brought back.

Lyla's finger traced the edge of the page as she studied the aged paper.

"Would you like something to drink," the woman asked, going to walk past Lyla.

"Umm," Lyla's brain felt foggy immediately. "I... I'm okay."

"Are you sure," the woman's eyebrows furrowed as she stepped toward Lyla.

Lyla nodded.

There was a tense moment. The woman stood in the doorway. Her gaze at Lyla shifted slightly. Lyla nodded but stepped back.

The woman stepped forward so she could reach out and touch Lyla's hand. Lyla looked down at where their fingers brushed against each other.

As she looked back up, the woman moved closer. Lyla couldn't figure out why she hadn't stepped back. She just didn't want to. Something deep within her chest told her that standing here was the right thing to do.

The woman leaned forward a few more inches. Lyla allowed her eyes to flutter shut.

However, as soon as her eyes shut, Lyla shot up on the couch.

She looked around her living room. The same old couch and coffee table. No gorgeous study with an endless selection of books.

She looked at her clock. It was almost three in the morning.

Lyla reached up and gently touched her lips. She could still feel the woman's breath on them. The idea made a shiver run up Lyla's spine. It was haunting.

That was the day that Lyla knew she could just sit in her room with her running line of questions. She needed to find real answers.

She got out of bed and showered. She pulled on some dark jeans and a slightly faded white shirt. Finally, she pulled on her black boots and a black jacket.

Soon, Lyla found herself in her small, arguably beat-up car, driving up the road that led out of town and into a forest.

She was quick to realize why people very rarely visited the mansion. If she hadn't been looking for it, she would have missed the dirt road leading to it completely.

Each bump in the road made Lyla hold onto her steering wheel a little bit harder. All she could do was hope that she wouldn't end up crashing into a tree. She wasn't a bad driver, but this road was truly dangerous to drive on.

A sense of relief flooded Lyla as the road left the trees and found a clearing.

She could now see the mansion that she had heard so many stories about. It was gorgeous. White stone walls with dark details. An iron gate was part of the large wall surrounding the property.

Mansion didn't feel like a proper way to describe it. It was a few steps away from being a full-blown castle.

Lyla drove up to the gate. She put the car in park just a car's length or so away from the gate.

Her black boots did little to mask her steps as she hesitantly approached the gate. The dirt shifted under each step, sounding like thunder compared to the silence around her.

She reached out for the iron gate, hesitantly wrapping her hand around one of the bars. With a deep breath, Lyla pushed on the bar, shocked to find it unlocked.

The gate made a loud squeak as Lyla pushed it. She decided that anyone who was there was aware of her, so stopping now wouldn't help her in the long run.

Once both sides of the gate were open, Lyla returned to her car. She slowly rolled forward into the driveway. She looked up at the building.

"Wow," she muttered, pressing on the brakes before putting her car into park and taking the keys out of the ignition.

The driveway had changed from just dirt to a layer of gravel. Each rock sounded like a falling bolder as Lyla got out of her car.

She took a moment to look around and admire the garden that was between the house and the wall. She hadn't noticed how far she had truly parked from the house.

The lawn had a variety of statues throughout it.

One was a man with a rake, back hunched over slightly. There was a hat resting on his head and a small grin.

Another was a woman by a line of hedges. She had a bandana tying her hair back while she held the hedge clippers open. There were a few stray branches that had latched onto the statue's arms.

The centerpiece of the yard was more beautiful than anything else.

It was a party. A picnic with all sorts of guests. They were all by some gazebo.

Adults with drinks in their hands. All talking and being friendly.

Children on the ground playing with a ball or wrestling.

There was even a dog by the steps to the gazebo, posed mid-bark.

There was so much detail to all of the statues that it looked like a photograph. A moment that had just been frozen in time. Wrinkles on the faces, veins on some of the hands, and the clothes looked like they were paper thin.

The artist was probably renowned for their work. It was better than anything Lyla had ever seen.

She stared at all of the statues as she walked over to the house. Lyla never thought that she was going to find herself in a Disney fairytale, but now she was thinking that she had stumbled into the newest live-action remake.

Her gaze only left the garden and the statues when she had to walk up the stone steps to the large wooden door.

It felt familiar.

Just like her dream.

There was another pair of statues in front of the house. A man and a woman smiling at each other. The woman's hands were resting on the man's jacket. The man's hands were resting on the woman's back. It was so easy to see the love on both of their faces. So clear. So simple.

She took a moment to look at the door. Golden details on dark wood. It made her smile. So beautiful.

She reached a hand up and grabbed one of the golden knockers. It was heavy and as it hit the door, Lyla flinched slightly. It was so loud that it sounded like she threw a large rock at it.

She let out a sigh and stepped back.

There was a minute of silence.

Just as she went to take a step back and admit defeat, there was a loud creak from the door's hinges.

"Hello," a soft voice called out.

Lyla turned around to face whoever had spoken.

It was her. The woman. The one that people had told stories about. The one that haunted the dreams of many. The dreams of Lyla.

She was just as beautiful as Lyla had been told.

The woman was wearing a white dress that puffed out from her waist to her knees. The sleeves were long and slightly see-through. Her hair was long and dark brown. Her eyes were a dark brown; black holes falling into the pupils. Gorgeous.

"Hello," Lyla responded quietly, studying the woman in front of her.

"Can I help you," the woman asked, voice sweet and smooth like a gentle melody.

"Umm, I- uh," she forgot any reason she had for showing up. She had to come up with something. Quickly. "I'm writing an article about you."

"Oh?"

That was stupid, Lyla thought. Why the hell would you say that?

"Yeah," Lyla said, nodding once. "It would just be about your life. Your history and story. Why you love this house so much. That kind of thing. All kind. If you're comfortable with that?"

The woman leaned on the door and frowned, deep in thought. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she weighed the pros and cons of letting Lyla in.

"You wouldn't share anything that I ask you not to," she asked.

Lyla nodded, "Of course."

The woman let her face relax as a small grin returned to her lips.

Lyla mimicked the woman's smile.

"Come on," the woman stepped back, welcoming Lyla inside. "I'll make us some tea and we can talk."

Lyla nodded and followed the woman inside.

The inside of the house was almost more beautiful than the garden outside.

There were beautiful hardwood floors that matched the shelving. There were deep green walls with paintings all along them. There was a rug on the floor that was a similar green with golden details.

There were more statues too.

There was one right by the door. A man holding out a bouquet. He was dressed sharply. There was a look on his face that looked purely like puppy love. Lyla wondered how someone could show so much emotion in a cut of stone.

She followed the woman through the entrance toward the back of the house. The hardwood flooring turned into white tiles. There was a pair of statues just outside the doorway to the kitchen. They were two girls, excitedly chatting about something. Each detail was clearly defined in their faces. Their clothes looked soft, even though they were carved from stone.

The kitchen looked like a museum.

The white tiles met pale yellow walls and white cabinets. The counters were all marble. The seats were dark wood. The light above the dining table covered everything in a wave of golden light.

There was a statue in the corner of some kind of chef with a baking tray of cookies. Lyla could've sworn that the chocolate chips were melted.

She took a seat on the other side of the island as the woman walked to another counter.

Lyla took out her phone so she could pretend to be writing notes. She had made up a ridiculous story, and she would be damned if she didn't commit to it.

The woman placed the kettle on the stove before grabbing two mugs from one of the cabinets.

"I should start by asking your name," Lyla said as the woman placed two tea bags in their respective mugs.

"Ella," the woman replied, turning her attention to purely focus on Lyla.

Lyla typed the name down. It was a fitting name. Like royalty.

"Do I get to know yours?"

Lyla nodded. There was this pause where her brain didn't seem to catch up with what her body had done.

Once she realized that she had nodded and not answered, she quickly stammered out an answer, "Lyla."

"Nice to meet you, Lyla," Ella grinned.

Something about how she said Lyla's name made Lyla's heart jump a bit. Like she was suddenly realizing that she was actually in the house and this interaction was in fact real.

"What questions do you have," she asked, pulling Lyla from her thoughts yet again.

"Right, right, my questions," Lyla muttered, looking down at her phone like she had them written down somewhere. By the time she had collected her thoughts, Ella was pouring water into the mugs. "Who else lives here? Or are you on your own?"

"Oh, it's just me," Ella replied. "But I have company."

Ella's hand motioned to the statue in the corner.

"I'm never lonely."

"They're beautiful," Lyla complimented. "Almost life-like."

Ella simply hummed, placing a mug in front of Lyla. "I didn't ask how you like your tea-"

"This is fine, thank you," Lyla waved it off.

In all honesty, she had never had tea before. It had simply never appealed to her. She was much happier with her too-sweet coffee and occasional energy drink. And now, as she sipped the tea and fought the urge to scrunch her face up at the taste, she assumes her disinterest was the universe protecting her.

"How long have you been here," Lyla asked.

"As long as I can remember," Ella shrugged.

"So, you inherited it?"

"Something like that."

Lyla paused for a moment. She wondered if she should push more at that answer. She decided against it. She had no desire to pick at a scab that wasn't her own.

Ella tilted her head at Lyla's pause. She took the moment to scan Lyla's features and grin to herself. The chances of someone as intriguing as Lyla showing up on her doorstep were so low that Ella felt the need to study her.

"How do you keep yourself busy," Lyla finally spoke up again. "I know you said you're never lonely, but you must have things that keep you occupied. Hobbies and such."

Ella nodded along with Lyla's statement. "I do a lot of art. A lot of dancing. Mostly reading. I will sometimes spend a whole day curled up in a chair with a good book. We all need an escape."

"What do you like to read?"

"Oh, anything that's interesting," Ella chuckled. "Actually, I just got done with something- let me go get it, I'm sure you'll love it."

Lyla tried to speak up as Ella left the room, "No, no, you don't have to- and she's gone."

Lyla sighed and laughed a little to herself. There was something comforting about seeing someone who had long been a mystery doing something that was so... regular.

When Ella came back, there was a book in her hands. She dragged a finger along the edge of a page she was reading. The smile on her face could stop the heart of any great artist. Nothing they could make would ever compare to the beauty of that smile.

She placed the book on the counter in front of Lyla. "Take it with you when you go."

Lyla was quick to refuse. "I... I can't do that-"

"Nonsense," Ella replied.

"It's your book. You just met me. I am not going to just steal it."

"I'll make you a deal," Ella offered. "Bring me back a book from your shelf. A fair trade."

Lyla paused for a moment, trying to force her mind to comprehend that she had just been invited back to the house after this visit. This woman knew nothing about Lyla. Well, the same could be said about Lyla not knowing Ella.

With a deep breath, she reached out and grabbed the book.

"You have a deal," Lyla decided.

"Good," Ella grinned.

The rest of the interview could be seen in two ways.

There was Lyla's point of view. The point of view that saw the entire visit as the equivalent of a dumpster fire. She stuttered over almost every word. Any time she made eye contact with Ella, all sense left her. She was left looking like a stunned fish until she come back to her senses and rambled out another question that she would make up on the spot.

Then, there was Ella's point of view. The point of view that saw nothing wrong with the event. She hadn't felt nervous around a person for a long time before Lyla found her doorstep. It was almost refreshing to know that such butterflies could still swarm her stomach. If the questions were fake, she never would have guessed. And that wasn't because Lyla was some great actress. It was just because Ella was entirely too distracted.

It felt like an eternity before Lyla finally put herself out of her misery for the day. "I should really get going."

"You'll be back, right," Ella asked, watching the other woman stand from her seat.

"Yes, absolutely," Lyla replied, probably too quickly. "I- I still owe you that book."

Ella nodded. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Lyla decided that she could get away with calling in sick the next day. "Sure."

Ella's smile warmed a part of Lyla's heart that she didn't even know existed.

Ella led the way back to the front door, wishing Lyla safe travels before closing the front door.

Lyla held in all signs of emotion until she made it to her car. She didn't want to risk being spotted acting like anything short of somewhat normal.

When she sat in her driver's seat, a heavy breath escaped her. As if the back of the seat had hit her with enough force to shove the sigh out.

Her eyes fell to the large house again. "Holy shit."

Lyla did come back the next day, a book under her arm.

And she would continue coming back for ages after that. Day after day. Short trips began to span hours of time. There were some days when it felt like she never left.

The two began trading books and stories, just like Lyla's dream had foretold. Lyla would often bring newer books. More modern stories. Ella had a deep love for the classics, often pulling books from her father's collection to offer to Lyla. They had formed a perfect two-person book club.

Lyla was learning more about the woman on the hill than she ever began to imagine. Instead of just history, she knew her favorite foods and drinks and books. She knew about some of the friends that Ella had watched come and go from her life. She knew what Ella had dreamed about when she was little. She knew about Ella's habit to wish on the first star of the evening, which she always seemed able to spot.

It was the best period of Lyla's life. This connection that never once felt forced. It all was so genuine and lovely. Nothing short of perfect in her eyes. After seeing so many friends and family go from her life, she expected to be more hesitant when it came to trusting that people wouldn't leave. With Ella, that trust felt like no question. No major task.

She wasn't alone in this perspective.

Ella's mind had long since decided that she was living her version of a fairytale. Lyla was her knight in shining armor of sorts. Instead of saving her from a dragon or an evil stepmother, she was saving her from her own loneliness. After all, how could one person find true happiness when their only company was that of statues surrounding the house?

Ella knew that she needed to hold onto Lyla. To what Lyla offered her. She couldn't risk losing something that had become as essential to her as breathing.

Her mind was made up while sharing a morning with Lyla in her father's old study.

She had gone far out of her way to keep the area from gathering any dust. She wanted it to be perfect for Lyla and her to enjoy. The deep green fabric was carefully cleaned, the book perfectly organized, the windows were made spotless. It was like the room of a dollhouse. Perfectly preserved to the point that it almost seemed fact. Plastic.

Lyla wouldn't have noticed the mess if there had been one. She was too focused on Ella walking around the room as if she were floating just above the floor.

On that day, Ella had gone out of her way to look especially nice. It was an important day. It required one to dress the part.

Lyla wished that she had tried harder to match Ella's carefully constructed outfit. Ella's fancy dress was facing Lyla's ripped jeans and old shirt that she had placed a jacket over to cover up the garment's age.

Lyla was in the middle of trying to silence her self-conscious thoughts while Ella was running her finger along the spine of the books on one of the shelves. She wanted to choose the perfect story for Lyla to have.

Lyla had never seen her so deep in thought. Her eyebrows furrowed together, almost looking like she was accusing each book of something as she considered them.

It felt like ages before Ella finally pulled herself away from the books, one with a dark cover held in her hand. She flicked through the pages, trying to spark memories of how she had felt while reading that very book.

She nodded before holding it out to Lyla. "I think you'll adore this one."

Lyla accepted it, flicking it through the pages. She caught the sight of a few names. A few lines that stuck out before even knowing their context. She nodded back. It wasn't as if Ella had ever steered her wrong before.

"I'm sure it will be amazing," Lyla smiled a little wider as she complimented it.

Her book had already been offered. It was sitting on her father's desk.

"Thank you," she added.

Ella smiled. There was comfort in seeing Lyla's smile as she looked at a new book. She needed to hold onto this feeling for the rest of her life. The warmth spreading through her chest. The nervous butterflies that twirled around her stomach. The way her face would heat up whenever they spoke.

She took a deep breath, her decision getting locked in her mind.

A truly unstoppable force.

"I feel like I should thank you," Ella said softly. "You've been so kind to me. Spending time with me, listening to me."

Lyla looked down for a moment. "Everyone deserves to be listened to. We all have a story to tell."

Ella nodded. "You have made me feel more accepted and cared about than I have been in a long time."

A silence fell over the pair. Both of them silently studied the other. How each of them stood, the beautiful parts of each of them, the flaws that have taken on such a perfect experience. Eyes and lips and hair were all perfectly arranged. Like they were each studying a piece of art in a gallery.

Ella slowly stepped forward. When Lyla didn't step away, Ella let her smile grow and continued moving forward. The two of them were now close enough to feel the heat and nervous energy radiating off of each other.

Ella reached out and took the book from Lyla's fingertips, tossing it to one of the armchairs so it didn't hinder the moment.

Lyla felt her breath pick up as Ella's lips barely brush against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, fully letting Ella take the lead.

Ella did.

She pressed her lips to Lyla's gently. Each movement calculated. Each moment falling perfectly into place. Lyla was entranced at the feeling of their lips brushing together. Everything that she could've ever wanted.

Ella's lips were intoxicating, Lyla decided. Soft and careful. Better than coffee in the morning or the sunrise or the sunset. No brilliant view, no good thing could be better than the feeling of Ella kissing her.

Lyla decided that she could spend her entire life like this. She would do so happily if Ella asked. As long as it meant that Ella never stopped kissing her. That's all she would require.

She mumbled out Ella's name, though she didn't know what she had been asking for.

Ella didn't respond or pull away. Instead, she grabbed Lyla's hands and guided them up to hold the sides of Ella's face. Lyla was happy to listen to her. To listen to her beautiful woman in the house on the hill. The girl with her garden of statues.

Ella pulled away slowly, taking a step away from Lyla. Lyla's lips were sitting open, trying to catch her breath through her dazed state. She had never imagined that a kiss could be that way. But she liked it. She really, really liked it.

She tried to voice something. Her feelings, asking her for another kiss, anything. But no words came out.

And her arms wouldn't move.

And her mouth wouldn't close.

And she couldn't blink.

Lyla felt something on her leg. Something slowly crawling up. Not just crawling up her skin, but actually moving in her blood. In her bones.

"Perfect," Ella said. "Don't worry, my dear. It'll all be okay. You won't have to worry about anything."

A small noise escaped Lyla's mouth. But that was it. Ella reached forward and touched her cheek.

"I love you," she continued. "Just like I loved everyone here. I had to preserve them. Keep them safe. I couldn't let the world take you away from me."

Another kiss touched Lyla's palm. But Lyla couldn't feel it. She finally could see what was happening. Gray was crawling down the length of her arm. In her heart, she knew what it was. Stone. She was turning to stone.

"My beautiful girl," Ella smiled. She truly thought this was an act of kindness. Protection. "You'll be so happy here. And I'll get to see you every day. My girl. Now, you can't leave me."

Lyla wanted to cry, but her eyes wouldn't produce any tears.

"I love you," Ella repeated, touching the side of Lyla's face. "I'll come back to see you soon. I'll read you a lovely story."

She walked out of the room a few moments later. At that point, the stone had reached every part of Lyla's body. A perfect, permanent fixture created out of skin and bone.

Ella ran through the house, down the hall, down the stairs, and out to the entrance of the house. Her smile only grew at the sight of her favorite statues. The man and the woman adjusting his jacket.

Ella almost bounced over to them.

"Mom, Dad, I found someone," she explained quickly, a wide smile taking up most of her face. "Oh, you would love her. She's so sweet and smart. She'll fit in perfectly here. And I get to keep her safe. Just like I kept you safe."

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to the cheek of each statue.

"I love you both," she said before standing up and running out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Ella spent her day twirling and dancing with her friends and family, perfectly at peace within the safety of her garden's gates.

A small little world that was perfect for the woman and her garden of statues.

#romance #magic #love #wlw #lgbtq #art #writing #writer #short story #story #original story #writers #aspiring writer #not a happy ending #wlw story #wlw post #sapphic stories

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