Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection

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Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 21

by Alec John Johnson


  I washed out the glass in the sink with soap and water, dried it off, and put it carefully back into the cupboard. Earlier that night I saw where Hazel retrieved her brandy from and I knew exactly where to put it back. Unlike Hazel, I didn’t need a stool to reach the cabinets above the refrigerator. I did have to do a little stretching but I was able to open it and slide the brandy bottle right back to its home.

  I shut the lights off in the kitchen and headed out the back door. Tonight was a good night.

  Chapter 17 Hazel (VI)

  Ever so slowly the rays of the morning sun crept closer and closer across the bed until they finally met my eyes. It was nature's alarm clock. The time was 6:05 AM. A minute later I was awake. At first check I felt fine, but then I sat up. The moment I sat up from bed a wave of nausea hit my stomach and one of the most intense hangover headaches hit me right between the eyes. It felt like someone was mercilessly pounding on my forehead over and over and over again.

  It took all of my effort not to focus on the nausea. The moment you focus on it and you feel that queasiness in your stomach is the moment when you lose all hope of controlling it. Sometimes with hangovers like this you can fight it. You can prevent the vomiting. You just can't think about it.

  Today was not one of those days. I halfway ran to the bathroom and didn't even make it to the toilet. Instead I leaned in towards the shower and let loose. Pools of clear light yellow erupted from my mouth and spilled its way into the shower floor and wall covering some of the soap and shampoo containers.

  Alcohol induced vomits are the worst. With normal everyday vomit you get that spasm towards the middle of your stomach and up it goes. Alcohol induced ones are different. You can feel it way at the bottom of your gut, that special twinge. You feel it and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It gets faster and faster and soon enough your whole body contracts and up it comes over and over again.

  As I lay there kneeling in front of our shower with my head hanging over it staring at the drain I couldn't help but think I didn't have any dreams last night, that I had actually slept pretty well; in fact It was some of the best sleep that I had had in weeks.

  I tried thinking back to the previous night and found it rather difficult. All of the events from the earlier part of the night were there. I made frozen pizza for the boys, after dinner I read a bit and the boys played video games, and around eight thirty the boys got ready for bed and I tried to sleep.

  I remember laying there in bed trying to sleep for hours. The whole time I was laying there waiting for sleep to come I couldn't stop thinking about the eerie feelings that I had been having the past months. Those feelings were nothing compared to the dreams that I had been having night after night. The shadowy figure creeping into my room, looming over me, pressing itself against me as I slept, the cloud like smoke filling the room as the creature watched my sleeping body all while I watched everything unfold helplessly in the corner.

  That wasn't the worst of it though. No not that night. The worst of it was the fact that Jacob was not in the house to protect us. If something went wrong there was no one here to help. I tried calling Jacob on his cell phone but he didn't answer. I was alone, utterly and completely alone.

  After an eternity of stewing in my own thoughts I remember getting fed up with not sleeping and walked back downstairs for a drink. I normally didn't drink much, or at all, but I figured at this point something had to help. Like it or not I needed sleep, dreams be damned.

  This is where things got a little foggy. I remember moving the stool and reaching into the cabinet above the refrigerator and getting the bottle of brandy. I remember writing for a bit on the computer but after that it was just blank. I didn't even remember coming to bed last night or even how much I had to drink. Did I go back for seconds or even thirds? It was all fuzzy, pieces here and there like a puzzle with no picture.

  The important thing here was that I actually slept last night and I did not have any of those terrible dreams. Well, I may have had those dreams but truth be told I wouldn't have remembered them even if I had.

  As the alcohol forced its way out of my stomach and the dagger like headache drove into my forehead over and over again I was debating over what outcome was better. Should I live with these horrendous nightmares over and over again or should I have black out perfect sleep and pay for it in the morning?

  --

  It was now just after eight am and the boys had left for school about an hour earlier. I stood in the kitchen with a coffee cup in hand and a rather large helping of bacon and eggs on the skillet. (I needed something to sober up.) I was surprised I was able to get the boys ready as efficiently as I did this morning. Once I got the worst of the vomiting out of the way the only thing that remained of the hangover was the viscous headache.

  I moved faster this morning and got more done than I had in the past two or three mornings combined. I had a certain renewed vigor. The night terrors did not haunt me throughout this morning. They were absent and in this case I can certainly say absence did not make the heart grow fonder.

  That foreboding feeling was still there, the feeling of dread, the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But, nothing could bring my spirits down this morning. I was well rested, the boys were out of the house, Jacob was out of the house, and I had all day to dedicate to whatever I wanted.

  I flipped the bacon over in the skillet and closed my eyes enjoying the tranquil quiet. The only sound that filled the room was the sizzling pops of bacon on the skillet.

  --

  That evening was much like the previous night. I didn’t feel the need to cook as Jacob wasn’t home so the boys and I piled in the car and picked up some Chinese carry out. I’ve never been too big of a fan of Chinese but Logan and Lucas insisted on it for some reason.

  Jacob called around dinner time to check in on everybody. The boys were excited to hear from him. They told him about their day and the childish adventures they had. Jacob and I talked for a bit and I tried not to let him know anything was wrong. It sounded like he was having a good time. We said our goodbyes and the all so important, ‘I love you,’ and then hung up.

  The rest of the night was much like any other night. The boys played in their spare 'game' room upstairs for a while and afterwards came downstairs to the living room to wind down by watching cartoons.

  All I could think about was the coming night. Should I drink myself to sleep again? Or, should I attempt to sleep with the uneasiness and the nightmares? I can’t make a habit of drinking myself to sleep, after all what would Jacob think? What about the boys? What if they needed me in the night? They deserved a better mother than that.

  It was just shy of eight o’clock and the sun had begun its slow but steady decline behind the horizon. The shadows began to creep in throughout the living room of the house as the boys laid on the floor in front of the television watching some new Disney cartoon.

  I sat on the couch on the far side of the living room against the porch windows reading a mystery novel. (It wasn't my favorite genre, but it was highly acclaimed.) Time seemed to slow down. Every minute that passed brought us closer and closer to night and I was dreading it. I had decided against the alcohol. It wasn’t healthy even if it did give me a full night of sleep. I would just have to live with the nightmares.

  My mind began to wander as I flipped to the next page. I started thinking about the previous night’s restlessness, the drinking, and the falling to sleep on the couch. Wait? Falling to sleep on the couch? Is that what happened? Yes... I remember it now. I didn’t think I could make it up the stairs so I staggered my way over to the living room couch with the brandy in one hand and the cup in the other.

  The room spun like a merry-go-round as I walked. Every step brought me closer and closer to the couch. After an eternity I made it to my destination. I sat the brandy bottle and cup on the coffee table and then collapsed in a disheveled heap onto the couch and promptly fell asleep.

  The question was how did I get
upstairs? How did I get in my bed? I had no recollection of going up there last night. Where did the brandy go? A cold chill began on my neck and rushed all the way down my spine causing my arms and legs to twitch.

  Chapter 18

  When I wasn’t with my family, my mind constantly dwelled on them. I couldn’t concentrate while working. I couldn’t focus on reading. I couldn’t even sleep without dreaming of them. The dreams were always the same as before. It was dinner time and I was pulling into the driveway to greet the family after a day's’ worth of hard work.

  Now the dream was turned up and brightened immensely. It seemed clear and lifelike but at the same time it seemed too perfect to be real. The grass was the brightest green I had ever seen. The exterior paint of the house shone a bright blue instead of the tired and faded blue of reality.

  I parked my car next to the spruce tree on the left of the driveway, exited the vehicle, and made my way to the front door all the while admiring all of the amplified colors and textures. I could practically taste the air of this dream.

  I opened the oversized front door and was greeted by Lucas and Logan running towards me from across the living room. They both arrived at the same time and launched themselves onto me in one giant group hug. I fell to the ground and they fell right on top of me. We laid there on the floor between the front door and the stairs. We hugged, we embraced, we snuggled, and we stayed close.

  Eventually the hug broke and the boys went their own way. Lucas went upstairs to his room and Logan went back to watching something on the television.

  Hazel was in the kitchen working on something for dinner. Her back was turned to me while she stirred some kind of sauce on the stove. The whole room smelled of herbs and spices. Her hair was no longer in a bun but was now draped freely behind her falling over her shoulders and upper back. Her red hair now seemed to glow as bright as a fire on a summer's night. The yellow blouse she was wearing was brighter than the sun.

  I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms and hands around her waist forming a hug. The mixed smell of her strawberry shampoo, the various herbs and spices cooking, and the subtle smell of her sweat washed over me and covered me like a warm blanket.

  She felt my presence and turned her head back towards me. Our lips locked. We stood there together in the kitchen enjoying each other's presence. Once the kiss was broken I scooped her up like I had done before and carried her up the stairs towards our bedroom. We entered the room and I lightly put her down on the bed. Her arms reached for me and as I went in for her embrace, something began to pull me. A large, masculine arm was the only embrace that met me. It's unwelcomed presence gripped around my neck and jerked me backwards with surprising force. I looked to Hazel for help, but as I looked at her, her once loving expression contorted to one of terror. Terror at my attacker? No. Terror at me! Me? I didn't understand why. I was her husband. She shouldn't be afraid of me! I twisted around in my attacker's chokehold and was met with the face of the true intruder here, Jacob. I couldn't let this happen. I had to stop him. This was MY family and I was going to defend it to the end. No one could stop me.

  --

  I awoke with such force that I threw myself off the couch crashing into the hardwood. For a moment I laid there in a daze sprawled out onto the floor. Eventually, I shook it off and regained composure. I knew what I had to do tonight. The night before Jacob came back home. There was one night left. My family was not going to leave me again. No, not again. I would not stand for it. Something had to be done. I couldn’t have Jacob come back home and reclaim MY family. They were mine and they were going to stay mine. Jacob could not have them. He would not have them.

  I didn’t have time to wait until one or two in the morning tonight. I needed to get there early to prepare for the night’s activities. I watched them ever so closely that evening. I watched their every move. Hazel and the boys were chowing down on what looked like Chinese takeout. Afterwards the boys were enjoying their television show while Hazel sat on that same couch I found her on last night reading a book. They all headed up stairs for bed just before nine. About twenty minutes later it was lights out.

  I left my house just after eleven that night and made the journey to their house one last time. Their back porch door opened without a fight just as usual and I stepped into the kitchen with ease. Everything was as it should be. The lights were off, the house was quiet, and I could see the living room couch from here and Hazel was not on it.

  I stood there in the darkened kitchen next to the counter and closed my eyes. I held my breath for a minute and then took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. My eyes opened slowly and I knew I was ready. I was ready to be with my family.

  I walked across the kitchen and dining room to what I could only assume was the garage door. I swung the door open and flipped the light switch on the right. The room illuminated and it was in fact the garage. I scanned the room. There were two things I needed, a car and duct tape.

  Obviously, the car was easy enough to spot. It was a somewhat newer orange Ford sports utility vehicle. I didn’t recognize the model but it didn’t matter. Car was checked off the list, now I needed to find that duct tape. I checked the work bench that was on the far side of the garage but there was nothing on the counter except a few nuts, bolts, and some dirty oil covered rags.

  There were numerous dark wood cabinets to the left and to the right of the work bench. To the immediate right there were three cabinets stacked on top of each other with the third one just barely in reach. Past that there was an additional two more columns of stacked cabinets. It was the same story on the other side, three columns of three stacked cabinets.

  I had to stake a step back and just admire how nice of a setup this was, truly remarkable. There was even a center cabinet perched above the workbench just like a microwave above an oven. Someone liked working in the garage, that much was obvious. Without even knowing where to start I pawed through each cabinet one by one. (I started on the left as I was left handed.)

  After shuffling through at least six cabinets I still could not find what I was looking for. I found electrical tape, staples, and even a nail gun but none of these would work. I needed something strong, something unbreakable, something supportable, and most of all something quiet.

  A few minutes later I had completely gone through each and every drawer in that damned maze of cabinets and still nothing. Frustrated, I turned around and started to walk back to the house. Just before I took the step back into the house I noticed something lying in the corner just next to the entry door.

  There it was, a singular roll of duct tape. Its gray color shone brightly in my eyes, it’s frayed edges showed only possibilities to me. I picked it up and moved back into the dining room of the house with elation. So far so good, this may actually end up working.

  --

  I laid the duct tape on the kitchen table right next to the centerpiece and a vanilla scented candle. I had more work to do. I needed to find blankets and lots of them. There were few here and there draped over the couch in the living room and one older looking one that was folded up in a corner next to the television stand.

  I gathered them, folded them up neatly, and stacked them on top of the kitchen table to join the duct tape. I still needed more. There was a smaller door just off the side of the kitchen entering the living room that looked like a closet.

  When opened it revealed a rather small closet with horizontal shelves starting at the bottom and going all the way to the top over my head. About head level there was stack of four to five blankets varying in colors from green, blue, striped, and patterned. I scooped them up with one hand and continued scanning the closet for anything else that was useful.

  As my gaze reached the bottom floor of the closet I noticed something. There were shoes, lots of them. All arranged in rows of four lengthwise and widthwise. Towards the back and on the left most row was a pair of shoes I recognized, my shoes. The shoes that I had left by mistake oh so long ago. There they were
staring up at me. A smile formed on my face and I chuckled to myself ever so slightly. It didn’t make much difference now. I left the shoes in their new home closed the closet door and then moved over to the table to add to the stack of blankets.

  I think I finally had enough supplies to begin. But, before I did anything more I had to check on my family. I had to make sure they were all ok and that they were all asleep. The house was dead quiet. The only sound I could hear was the constant humming of the refrigerator compressor running in the background.

  I crept upstairs and entered the boy’s room. There they were, fast asleep. These boys sleep like rocks. It seems that nothing disturbs their sleep. I walked over to the bunk bed and stared at their darkened faces as they slept.

  Next was Hazel’s room, our room. Hopefully we didn’t have any complications this time. I can only hope that she is asleep, but after the previous night I had to be sure. She obviously wasn’t down on the couch again, I was certain of that. If she was awake she would be in here waiting for me.

  I extended my right foot forward towards her door and pushed the door open rather forcefully. Once the door was open I pulled my foot back as fast as I could and waited. I waited for any sound to emerge. I waited for a scream, a call for ‘hello,’ anything. Complete silence greeted me. I couldn’t even hear the refrigerator anymore.

  I waited a few more minutes. I had to be absolutely sure she was asleep. There was still nothing so I decided to venture into the room, into the unknown. As I entered the room and looked towards her bed I saw what I was hoping for. I saw her, asleep. She was mostly submerged under the sheet but had kicked the bedspread away during the night. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful.

  “Don’t worry my love. We’ll be together soon,” I whispered as I brushed my palm against her hair. I exited the room and left the door open. I made my way back down the hallway and as I went I closed all of the doors on the unoccupied rooms, the bathroom, the boy’s toy room, the closet. I closed them all. I made my way downstairs and got to work.

 

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