by B. B. Palomo
I walked to the end of my mattress, sweeping my arms out in front of me, not confident I wouldn’t bump into a dresser or basket full of unfolded clothes. The old carpet crunched against my feet as I turned the corner too sharp and almost toppled over the corner of the cheap frame, the metal scrapping my thigh. When I had gotten up and steadied myself, I pushed on. The tips of my toes were the first thing to find the blanket, the cotton soft against my feet. I bent over and grabbed a fistful of the material, yanking it up to pull it back onto the bed, but it wouldn’t budge.
I wrenched it again, expecting it to give in and follow me back to sleep, but it refused, tied up better than I could have expected.
What is it caught on?
I gave one last tug, pulling as hard as I could, unaware whatever it had been tangled on was no longer there. I reeled back, having to take quick steps in reverse to avoid falling right on my butt from the momentum. Irritation grew in my chest. At this point, I was fully awake and worried sleep would not come for me again until it was too close to morning. I sat heavily on my bed, pouting, and flattened out the blanket over me.
I pulled the seam up to my neck, still feeling chilled, and tried to get comfortable so I could pick up where I left off in REM. The air around me shifted, and I unintentionally opened my eyes. Suddenly, the dark of my room seemed more ominous than before, the shadows lurking like moving ink against the walls. My heart started beating harder, sending my anxiety through the roof. I forcefully chuckled out loud, trying to convince myself how ridiculous this feeling was. Scared of the dark? I was an adult and shouldn’t be wishing I had a night-light.
Despite the cool air, sweat formed at my hairline, quickly snaking down my face. I slammed my eyes shuts, convinced if I didn’t, I would see someone watching me. The pressure was heavy, weighing down on my chest as if it was sitting on me and making it hard to catch a breath. Abruptly, the air stilled. There was no sound, no movement, not even the whisper of the wind at my window. It was like time stopped, and I was the only one awake for it.
Before I could do anything, the blanket I had tucked neatly under my chin was ripped from my body, exposing me to the room and whatever was here with me. A scream tore from my chest as I backed up against my headboard and away from—well, from what I wasn’t sure, but the fear from the night before was back in full force. I barely registered the footsteps pounding down the hall as the shadow wrapped around my throat and constricted.
Mom burst into my room.
“What’s wrong?” she shouted, pulling on the same pull string for the light as I did, but this time it worked, illuminating the shadows of the room to show nothing more than my things.
Words lodged painfully in my throat, and my heart threatened to go into arrest with its irregular beating as I choked on much-needed air. I pointed a trembling finger in front of me, in the direction the blanket had been pulled, and hugged the other around the knees I now had pulled as close to my torso as I could get them.
My mom looked to where I pointed, confused. She walked around the bed and lifted the blanket with a question on her face as I wrapped a protective hand around my throat in case it came back.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Someone pulled my blanket off of me!” I was near hysterics.
“Willow.” She took another look. “There’s no one in here. Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream?”
“I think I’d know if it was a dream, Mom!” I screamed, furious that she was treating me like a baby. “Someone was in here.”
“Why don’t you sleep with me tonight,” she offered, and as much as I wanted to decline, having just complained about being treated like a baby, I also didn’t want to be in this room alone right now.
“O-okay.” My shaking died a little, but my lips were still numb with adrenaline.
Before she could move, I was on my feet, wanting to be the first to show my back to the room. I’d made it in her bed and under the covers in record speed, willing her to hurry as well. When she finally got comfortable, she patted my head like a pet.
“Are you going to be okay?” She yawned, her voice already laced with drowsiness.
“Yeah, it was just a dream like you said.” I snuggled closer. “Go back to sleep.”
It wasn’t long before her breathing turned into quiet snores. It didn’t matter, though, because sleep wouldn’t come for me, not again. Instead, I kept my eyes peeled open, watching the door until sunrise, trying to convince myself that the sore skin around my throat was just my imagination.
Chapter Eleven
By the time Monday morning rolled around, and I had no choice but to get out of my mom’s bed, my eyes were desiccated and bloodshot from standing guard the remainder of the night. The overwhelming need to protect me and her from some unseen force fueled my ability to stay awake more than drinking coffee ever had. Unfortunately, now, the lack of sleep had me zombie-like, barely making it through the basic motions of my day.
I struggled to get my hair up into a bun, the elastic letting out lazy strands, which I left alone to frame my face unintentionally. No part of me wanted to go back into my room. It didn’t matter that the sun shined bright rays through the window, illuminating every corner. To me, it was dark as night in there, that ominous feeling lurking just below the surface, waiting to reach out and snatch me.
Still, I had little choice.
I took two deep breaths as I opened the door and bolted to the closet, ripping a shirt from the first hanger I touched and snatching the jeans still lying crumpled at the foot of my bed. The pants were tight, thankfully straightening out the wrinkles when I shimmed them on, and of course, with my luck, I’d grabbed an old Hello Kitty shirt from my younger self’s obsession. Unwilling to try again, I had to hide the tee under a jacket, making sure to zip it up high enough you couldn’t see the ears. I tried to ignore that I’d ended up dressed for a late-night Walmart trip rather than school. It would just have to do.
“Mom,” I called out as I entered the kitchen, expecting to see her there.
Silence greeted me, and I wondered where she could’ve gone. Typically, if she had plans to leave, she’d text me, but all I had was a fifteen percent off coupon for the local hardware store when I checked my phone. A quick glance out the window showed her car was still parked in the driveway, so wherever she was, it was close. She hadn’t gardened since Dad passed, and I knew the flowers were in dire need of prepping for the winter season, so more than likely, she was handling that on her clientless day.
I grabbed a granola bar from the stainless steel tin on the counter on my way out, swinging my book-filled backpack over my shoulder. I didn’t feel present as I moved at a snail-like pace, my mind peeking out from behind a haze just long enough to make small decisions. The day was surprisingly warm as I opened the door. The clouds had all passed, opening up to a clear, blue sky. The sun beat down on my skin as I stood to soak in the quick boost of vitamin D. I let my head drop back for a moment, almost forgetting everything that happened until the sharp pull of a bruise ran across my throat when I swallowed the saliva building in my mouth.
Loser.
Even my dad is gone because of me.
This is my karma.
My fault. It’s all my fault.
Everything is ruined because of me.
I deserve everything that’s happening.
Nothing will ever be okay again—
I snapped my head up and slapped my forehead with a boney palm. I needed to get a grip. These were intrusive thoughts from a lack of sleep, that was all. I just needed a good night’s rest, and everything would go back to normal. I would go back to the old Willow I used to be. I rubbed my eyes, trying to rid them of sleep, promising myself to plan some self-care soon.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I jerked upright at the sound of fingers against glass and looked to my left. Noah’s eyes slammed into mine through the window. Uneasiness dilated his pupils as I stared back, confused. He was bent at the waist st
aring into the car I was sitting in. My hands were still on the wheel, white-knuckled as I clenched it tighter, not understanding where I was or why I was behind the wheel in this metal death trap. My heart beat so loud in my ears I couldn’t read his lips as he spoke, finally seeing him point to the door handle for me to open.
With a shaky hand, I turned off the car and waited for Noah to step back so I could open the door. I reached over for my seat belt before realizing I’d never put it on and pulled back my hand. I didn’t feel confident about stepping out onto the pavement, afraid I couldn’t stand with how tense my body was. I had no memory of getting here. I was petrified of driving, yet here I was, alone. I snubbed my panic over Mom finding out her car was missing, figuring I had more important things to worry about.
“Are you okay?” he asked carefully, like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real.
“Yeah.” The lie flew from my mouth without reason. It wasn’t confident, both because I wasn’t sure I was okay and I hadn’t intended to fib until my lips started moving. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re”—he thought about it for a second—“driving.”
“I figured it was time to stop being afraid.” I piled it on. “You know, facing your fears and all.”
Noah’s gaze stalled on my face as he sank deep into thought. I shoved my fidgeting hand in-between my legs before he could see it, knowing the jerky movement would make it even harder to get him to believe me. It had only been weeks since I swore to him I’d never drive again, and I believed it wholeheartedly, so the fact that I was currently sitting behind the wheel with no memory as to how I got there stripped me of the control I was desperately trying to hold onto.
“Were you sleeping?” he questioned, worry lines pulling his full lips down.
“Yeah, I guess I have just been super tired. I didn’t even realize, but I must have gotten comfortable with the heater on.” I tried to shrug it off and prayed he didn’t reach in and feel how frigid the inside of the car truly was.
“Why wouldn’t you call me? You shouldn’t be driving if you’re that tired. Why didn’t you get any sleep last night?” His questions were rapid-fired at me like a mission locked onto a target. Sudden, blossoming rage bloomed in my belly, breaking away from its cocoon, and flew out of my lips.
“Why is it that I have to check in with you over all of this? I’m not sure why everyone seems to think I am still just a kid,” I shot off. “News flash! I’m an adult too! I’m allowed to change without people’s damn permission.”
He didn’t respond right away, deflating the anger that was carrying me through. Sure, I was deflecting, but part of me did think everyone viewed me as a child. I was being babied because my dad died. They acted like I was too fragile to move, and they had to watch my every step to ensure I didn’t lose it.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed, running his hand through his soft hair. “I was just worried because I know you hate driving ever since, well—”
“No, I’m sorry,” I cut off anything he wanted to add. The heated emotion that had raced through me turned to ice, and now I was more exhausted than ever before. “I’m just overly tired, and everything that’s happened the last few days has me on edge.”
“Me too,” he said, probably thinking back to Saturday night. “Adira is still pretty freaked out.”
“You talked to Adira?” I asked, never getting a response from her yesterday.
Why would she message Noah and not me?
“I bumped into her at the store.” He leaned forward and helped me from the car. “She said she’s been texting you, but you didn’t respond and wanted to know if you were okay.”
“I don’t have any missed texts from her,” I said, bewildered.
He reached out and swiped a gentle thumb under my eyes, the concern never letting his features relax into the unbothered Noah I knew. I leaned my head against his chest and settled into his embrace when he lifted his arms and hugged me close.
“What happened last night?” he asked into my hair, trailing circles under my shoulder blade with his thumb. “You look more than just exhausted.”
“It was—” What could I possibly say that didn’t sound completely insane? “I just had trouble falling asleep last night, and when I did, I was having the strangest dreams. I missed my alarm this morning because of it. That’s why I needed the car. I didn’t want to be late, but I think the class already started.” The story was surprisingly easy to push out, and that original guilt I had over my lying seemed to fade into the back of my mind.
“You know,” he said with a hint of rebelliousness. “You can’t go into class this late. I had that professor, and he’ll never let you in.”
I pulled back a little bit and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’m just going to have to hang out until my next one at two.”
“Or”—the glint in his eyes sparkled in the sunlight—“we can get out of here.”
His smirk pulled at my heartstrings, and without hesitation, I returned the infectious smile he wore. I’d missed out on some of my Noah time, typically spending the weekends at his apartment instead of at the house, and the thought of snuggling next to him in bed was enough to convince me that the last classes I had weren’t necessary today.
I nodded as he leaned in to give me a passion-filled kiss. I breathed him in, expanding my lungs with the smell of his spring-scented body wash and wishing I could stay like this forever. Butterflies fluttered deep in my abdomen when my back hit the car, and Noah pressed his body to mine, leaving nothing between us but the fabric of our clothes.
“But first”—he broke our lips apart, and I pouted—“we need to get this car back to your mom.”
And I knew the only way to do that was to get back behind the wheel, and this time I was more than awake.
The trip took forever.
Mostly because I refused to go faster than twenty miles per hour as I followed Noah to my house. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I had all but catapulted myself from the vehicle to kiss the sweet ground under the wheeled serial killer I drove here. I welcomed the dirt on my shins as long as it meant I never had to be behind the wheel again.
I took off inside before Noah could invite himself in, dropped the keys back in the tray, but if I thought I’d be fortunate enough not to run into Mom, I was sorely mistaken. Her eyes were like lasers as they locked onto my movements, easily discerning I was sneaking around and something was up. I stood still as if being frozen would cause her to lose interest and forget I was there.
“Were those the keys to the car?” she asked slowly like my answer could change what she was seeing.
“Ah.” I panicked, knowing I’d have to carve another lie to add to my mounting pile of deception. “Yeah, I thought the keys were mine, so Noah brought me back in case you needed them today.”
It wasn’t smooth, and the raised brow she gave me told me she agreed.
“So you weren’t just driving—”
I booked it, the door slamming so hard behind me it rattled the windows. I could barely hear her call out for me as I speed walked to the truck, keeping my eyes down, and prayed she wouldn’t follow me outside. As soon as I made it to the truck and the door was locked behind me, I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like I’d just successfully got a candy bar out of the store without my parents noticing.
“Ready?” Noah asked as he shifted into reverse and started backing out of the driveway.
I nodded feverishly, wanting to be anywhere other than in front of people who’d want some explanations. He didn’t seem to notice my stress as he casually accelerated on the road and headed the ten-minute drive north.
Noah lived on the bottom floor of the newly remodeled apartment complex, the paint fumes still lingering depending on which way the wind blew. I’d worked hard to make the once bare man cave a little cozier, adding what Pinterest called modern chic—decorative vases and cute knick-knacks—and what he affectionately referred to as a concession to m
ake me happy. His gaming systems were neatly tucked away in a refurbished entertainment center with all of the disks organized up on top of the shelf. I’d found a nice leather couch on a selling app that we picked up together, and although it clashed with his bright red gamers chair, it still gave the room a lovely, lived-in look.
You’d never know from looking around that Noah loved art, but I knew tucked in the corner of his bedroom was a large canvas that changed every few weeks. I couldn’t count the amount of times I’d scrubbed charcoal from the walls and doorknobs as he tracked the remnants of his paintings throughout the apartment. I’d tried to convince him to gear his education toward his art, or at least submit the drawings to contests, but he’d always declined, saying he’d rather it be an outlet than a job.
I kicked my shoes off at the door and stepped onto the cool wood styled tile. I was immediately greeted by Sasha, our rescue calico kitten, who weaved her way in-between my legs, leaving white hairs glued to my jeans. I reached onto the table by the door for her treats and tossed her a few. I always thought it was so cute how she would purr and eat them at the same time.
Noah helped me shrug out of my jacket, stopping me when I tried to hide my shirt from him. I squealed, trying to escape as he tickled my ribs to get me to turn and face him, his eyes widening in amusement when he got a good look. I crossed my arms over my chest, but the damage was done. His eyes teared as he tried to keep his composure. I scowled in warning.
“Is that—”
“I’m going to jump in the shower real quick,” I practically yelled before he could finish. He put his palms up, surrendering, and disappeared into the kitchen, where I could hear his laughs break free.