by B. B. Palomo
My mouth was dry like I’d chewed on sand and swallowed it, the back of my throat itchy and uncomfortable. On tiptoes, I made my way to the sink, trying not to wake my friends. The light from the living room faded behind me, illuminating only a few inches of the bottom cabinets. The glass from the drying rack was heavy as I filled it with lukewarm tap water. I drank hungrily, as if I’d been lost for some time, and feared I’d never have the chance to quench this thirst again. The glass against the tile counter seemed amplified as the quiet snores from the living room stirred before continuing on their original rhythm.
I started on my path back to the couch, where I was sure the indent of my body hadn’t fluffed back out, but something toward the front door caught my eye. At first, I couldn’t make out the dark shadow. It appeared to be an old coat rack we never used anymore, the unusual shape reminding me of the antlers on a buck. I rubbed my eyes to focus on the disfigurement, just as it grew in size, spreading across the wall at a sickening speed.
I gasped and fumbled backward as my heartbeat tripled in speed, choking me. The dark mass snaked across the ceiling, hovering an arm’s length above me. There was no time to scream out for help as it dripped from above, forming into a silhouette standing at least seven feet tall. With one step, the blight stepped into me, obstructing my sight until all I knew was the dizzying dark. Frigid, onyx limbs encircled my petrified body, stealing the last of my warmth before dragging me down into the confines of nothingness.
Crunching metal rips through my ears, but I cannot find my hands to cover them.
Pain.
Hot, searing agony engulfs my nerves, and I beg for a few seconds of relief that never arrive.
And then, I’m falling, flailing through the air as I try to reach for anything, find anything that I can grab to stay afloat. I cry out as I drown, feeling the needy hands of the damned gripping my calves. I know the moment the black ocean covers my head, there will be no saving my soul.
“Willow?” Noah’s tired voice was accompanied by tender pressure on my shoulder. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” Before I could fully understand what was happening, he swung me around, tucking my now teetering body into his arms, and brought his palm to my forehead. His touch felt cool against my sweltering skin, so I leaned into it, trying to soak up the cold. “What are you doing out here?” he asked me, ending the succor when he pulled his hand back down.
Out where? “Huh?” I mustered, the drying skin of my lips tearing as they parted.
I looked around, not expecting to see myself outside, on my front doorstep’s concrete steps. Why wasn’t I in the kitchen? My bare feet had started to prune in the standing water left over from rain that had long stopped falling. My clothes were still damp, but I had no memory of walking into the storm, let alone being in the breeze long enough to begin to dry off. I rubbed my forehead, ignoring the heat still coming off it in waves to find the source of the pounding that threatened to send the churned popcorn from earlier back up my throat.
“I—” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember. “I don’t know.”
“I think you might be getting sick.” He had both hands back on my shoulders, steadying me as I tilted. “Should I call your mom?”
I shot him a look, the words having a sobering effect against my ailment. “I’m not a baby, and you don’t need to call my mom.” I tried to end with an evil eye and instantly regretted it when the pressure in my head increased. “I don’t remember coming out here.”
“Did you sleepwalk?” he asked, trying to turn me and walk me back into the house. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to go back in, needing instead to run as far from this place as possible.
“I-I must have,” I agreed. “It’s just my head.” I finally took a step forward, the urge to lie down winning over as the throbbing became unbearable.
“I’ll grab you some aspirin,” he said, urging me forward. “Go get changed into something dry, and I’ll get everything.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t argue.
Each step was agony as I walked to my room. Turning the lamp on brought out a cat-like hiss from my lips, and I immediately had to close my eyes before throwing the switch back down. I peeled the clothes from my body and changed into an oversized shirt and sleep shorts so I could lie down and put an end to this awful night. Noah knocked before coming into my room, waiting for my lack of a response as his go-ahead. He had a glass of water and a washcloth draped over his forearm.
“All I could find was Tylenol,” he said as he removed the child-locked lid with ease.
He offered me the water and medicine, which I gladly took before lying back down and letting him position the cool cloth against my flushed skin. I’d already started to feel better, so I patted the side of my mattress, asking him to join me. He was careful not to stir my position as he settled in next to me, spooning me close. Noah rested his cheek on his fist, staying elevated enough so he could see me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his warm breath tickling my ear.
“Don’t worry about me.” I squeezed his hand in assurance. “It’s probably just a cold. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
He studied me for a few seconds, my answer not bringing any relief to his worries. His gaze burned my skin as I pretended to fall back to sleep. It was near impossible not to smile as he brushed the hair from my face, resting it snuggly behind my ear so I’d be comfortable. Finally, with a resolved sigh, he laid his head against the pillow. I counted the shallow breaths coming from his lungs until they were slow and steady, indicating he had fallen into a deep sleep. I turned carefully to my back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. It took a long time for my eyes to finally close, but even when they did, I couldn’t help but think there was something vital I should be remembering.
Chapter Ten
I peeled my lids open to an empty bed, the space Noah had occupied now cool to the touch. Each muscle in my body begged me not to move, limbs stretching painfully as if they hadn’t been used in years. I rolled to the end of my mattress and winced when my feet finally touched the floor. The deep ache inside my bones convinced me I’d fallen victim to some awful accident, but aside from faint purple bruises down my legs, I appeared to be fine. I ran my fingers over the marks, hissing when I added too much pressure.
“What the hell,” I whispered to myself.
My brain was foggy, suppressing the answer I was looking for. I shook my head like it would clear the haze, but the only thing I’d accomplished was making myself dizzy and sick.
A quick examination of my bottom dresser yielded clean pants I could use to cover my speckled legs. I paired them with a basic black T-shirt and re-pulled my hair back without brushing out the tangles. I’d pay for it later.
The harsh snap of plastic being manipulated in the air greeted me as I entered the hallway. Noah had just finished tying the bright red ends to the overfilled trash as I stepped into the kitchen. Protruding from the bag’s white and stretchy material was the outline of one of Mom’s now broken candles, trying desperately to break through and stay. I hadn’t taken a count last night, but I assumed it was one of many now ready to be thrown away.
I strained my neck to look for Cora and Adira. The rest of the house was silent, aside from the occasional car driving by. They must have already left, and I found myself nervously questioning when. Had it been during the night? Maybe they’d snuck by me as I sleepwalked myself into the frigid rain, racing away with a quick pact with each other to never step foot near me or this house again.
“Slipped out this morning,” Noah answered the question on my mind. “We didn’t want to wake you, so we tried to clean up quietly. I don’t know if things look all right or how the room was set up. You might have to move stuff around if we messed it up.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I replied, kicking myself for not just saying thank you.
“Yes, we did.” He dropped the bag of garbage by the door and walked back toward me. “I still can’t exp
lain to myself what happened last night, so how could we expect you to be able to tell your mom?”
He had a good point.
“Hey, Mom, while you were gone, we may have invited an evil spirit into your house. Oh, and it was by using a board you specifically told me not to mess with. Not to mention the house was destroyed.” I said it casually like it was a totally normal conversation, but the words had my heart racing. “Kidding,” I added on when Noah’s eyes widened.
“I’m still pretending it was the storm.” He tried to hide the shiver that crept up his body.
“Are you doing okay?” I averted my gaze while I asked. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how I felt over last night, and I wouldn’t be able to blame him if he said no.
“The real question is, are you?” He closed the distance, using his hand as a thermometer once more. “You had me really worried, but your temperature feels better now.”
“I told you, it was just a little cold. Probably from the weather being so moody lately.” I shrugged and caught a glimpse of the digital clock on the stovetop. “I love you, and I really do appreciate you doing this for me, but my mom is going to be here soon, and you can’t be here when that happens.”
“She doesn’t know I was over?” His eyes bulged at my carefully avoided information.
“Not exactly—”
“Willow!” he scolded me sweetly.
“I know, I know.” I gulped. “She likes you, I swear! It’s just, she’s not comfortable with us being alone together, at least not here.”
“You told her about moving in with me, right?” His question had undertones of fear like maybe I didn’t really want to.
“I’m going to talk to her about everything. I promise, but just, well, not yet. But soon,” I threw on when he gave me a skeptical side-eye.
I turned him around and placed strong palms against his back, pushing him toward the door. He didn’t make it easy, dragging his feet purposefully because I was stressed out. I opened it and jammed a thumb out, leaning into my hip to try my best attempt at sexy attitude, and tried not to be offended when he laughed.
“One more thing.” I batted my eyelashes at him.
“You want my heart too? Because it’s already yours,” he said, leaning into me to tease his lips against my own.
“No,” I answered uneasily, something stirring in the pit of my stomach at his words. “Well, yes, of course.” I cleared my throat and shook it from my mind. “Can you take the trash with you? I don’t want my mom to see it in the bin.”
“Ow.” He gripped his chest to stop his fake heart attack. “How can she be so cruel?”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” I said, but Noah still hesitated at the door. “And I’m fine.”
“Okay, but call me if anything changes,” he said.
“I will.”
Thankfully that did the trick, and he didn’t dig his heels in deeper when I ushered him outside. I watched Noah toss the bag into the truck bed and get inside. As his truck pulled away, I was filled both with a sense of relief and profound loneliness. The house had felt empty since my dad passed, but now it was more than that.
It was hollow.
Devoid of the light and happiness that years of memories weaved into the atmosphere. As soon as the door closed and I turned back, I wanted to collapse. Exhaustion pulled at my eyelids as a constant thudding worked its way up the back of my head. I stumbled over my feet and caught myself on the counter. The once silent house was now tumultuous with buzzing energy that pressed into me, burying me from all angles.
The phone rang.
I took a deep breath like I’d not been able to in some time. Beads of sweat tickled my hairline, drying before they swelled big enough to fall. Rays of sunlight sliced through the window, and I couldn’t remember if they’d been present the whole time or if the room had really been as dark as it just felt.
“Hello?” I asked breathlessly into the outdated landline, its coiled cord not allowing me to move too far from the wall.
“Willow?”
“Yes,” I answered, not recognizing the voice on the other end.
“It’s Grammy.”
“Oh,” I said. “Um, Mom’s not here, but—”
“Actually,” she interrupted. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Me?” I asked like she was joking. I hadn’t heard from this woman in years, not even a cheap birthday card, so I couldn’t think of a reason she’d need to call now. Honestly, as far as I was concerned, she could be lumped in with my dad’s parents as people I’d never need to talk to again. “I’m actually swamped right now. Could I call you back?” I spoke the lies back to back.
I was neither busy nor had plans to call her. Ever.
“Willow, wait.” She raised her voice, and I paused. “Did something happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I sense negative energy around you. Did you do something you shouldn’t have?” she sputtered. “Have you been trying to contact—”
The front door opening cut off anything else she was going to say. Mom stormed in, dropping her bag by the table, and went straight to the fridge for her soda. The hiss of carbonation was followed with loud gulps as she chugged the drink like a frat boy doing a beer bong.
“Are you okay?” I asked, Grammy forgotten.
“Who are you talking to?” she asked, curious to see me use the phone over my cell.
“Oh, Grammy—”
Mom took two long strides before ripping the phone from my hand.
“Hello,” she said curtly into the receiver. “I told you not to call here. No, no, no. I don’t care. We had an understanding, don’t do this again.”
Click.
She slammed the phone down and turned on me.
“What did she say to you?” she asked, interrogating me.
“N-nothing.” I backed away from her. “She just asked if I was okay.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes,” I promised, confused with her attitude. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” she shot back before sighing. “Well, no.”
I hopped up onto the counter, swinging my dirty feet freely as she rummaged through the refrigerator, looking for something else to abuse after crinkling the now empty soda can.
“What happened?” I asked, not used to seeing her like this.
“They wanted money.” Mom turned, settling on orange jello. “Can you believe that? They were convinced your dad put them down as beneficiaries to his life insurance policy.”
“Aren’t they loaded?”
“Yeah, but even after all this time, they think he was here against his will.” She wiped a quick hand across her face to stop the tear that broke free. “I shouldn’t be so surprised. They never liked me, so why would they suddenly want a relationship now?”
“We don’t need them.” I jumped down and pulled her into a rare hug. “We have each other, right? That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah.” She quieted her sniffles on my shirt. “You’re right. I just wanted to feel close to him again.”
“Don’t worry,” I whispered into her hair. “He’s watching over us.”
The words were meant to be reassuring, but she pulled back and gripped my arms. I didn’t know what she was searching for as her eyes scanned my face, but after a moment, she relaxed.
“Mom?”
“It’s nothing, baby,” she said. “I was just thinking of something. Hey! I know. How about we watch that new crime thriller? I saw the poster on the video rental store.” Mom moved back and grabbed her purse.
“We really need to upgrade our system,” I muttered.
“What?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Sounds great,” I said, but when she smirked, I knew she’d heard me.
“I’ll be back,” she said with her back to me, and before I could respond, the door shut behind her.
She was acting weird. I knew she was hurting, but it was more than that. She’d looke
d at me like she’d seen a ghost. I didn’t know what I said or if Grammy’s call pushed her over, but I was sure she’d kill at least a couple of hours in town to collect herself. All I could do was clean up anything we missed and try my best to keep her mind from the ever-growing worries plaguing our lives.
Freezing. God, it’s cold.
I must have been buried alive in the soft white snow of the first winter storm. My skin burned as tiny needles struck my nerves without resistance, the frostbite slow to numb my body. My teeth chattered against each other, cracking my jaw painfully until my mind slowly drifted back to the surface, somewhere in-between being asleep and awake.
Where is my blanket?
With eyes still closed, I searched, feeling around my body for any material that would help me retain the body heat that was slipping from my pores. I came up empty-handed. Whatever I had fallen asleep with was now far from my reach. I reluctantly peeled my eyes open, squinting in the dark to see around me. I was exhausted, not just from the lack of sleep I had been getting lately, but because of a late-night binge session with Mom. By the time I’d finally told her I needed to go to bed, it was well past midnight.
My body lay close to bare on my mattress, only the thin oversized T-shirt and night shorts protecting me. My knees were still tucked tightly into my chest as my subconscious tried to warm me instead of waking me up from what had started as a night of peaceful sleep. The bright red bars on the alarm clock next to my bed showed that it was three minutes past three o’clock in the morning.
I stretched out before sitting up and kicking my feet over the side of my bed. I reached for the light next to me to help me see, the room seeming darker than usual as clouds passed over the moon, stealing some of its rays. I pulled the metal string down until it clicked twice, but nothing happened. I tried three more times in rapid succession like it would magically change the fact that the bulb had burnt out, but to no surprise, it didn’t. With a sigh, I stood up, leaving what little warmth I had left from the bed behind.