by Amber Garza
Relief swept over me as I ran my fingertips over my brown leather purse. It smelled like me, and it reminded me of home.
Home.
I wanted to get there so badly.
If only I’d stayed at the cabin with everyone else instead of stupidly driving home late at night with a storm coming through. My stubbornness was always getting me in trouble, but this time I’d outdone myself. I imagined my family would have a good laugh about it one day. But not now. Now they were probably panicked. Thinking of them caused my heart to pinch. I was certain they’d been calling my cell nonstop. Heart pounding, I slipped my fingers inside and fished around for my phone. The pads of my fingers lighted on my lipstick, on old Kleenex, my wallet, some loose change, but no phone. Chest tightening, I peered in, searching for my pink glittery case. It wasn’t there.
My gaze scoured the dresser, but it wasn’t there either. Was it still in the car? Did they take it? I blinked back tears. Now was not the time to lose it. I could do this without my phone. I simply needed to get outside, and then I could work out the rest. Perhaps my car was still drivable. Nina could have been lying.
Taking a deep breath, I snatched my purse and keys off the dresser and headed toward the bedroom door. This would be the tricky part. Not only because I’d have to be quiet, but because my energy was already draining. I probably should have eaten more. But there wasn’t time now. Who knew when one of them would come back?
I pressed my ear to the door and listened intently. When I heard a consistent pounding, I realized it was my head. I had no idea how I’d get out of here in this state, but I was determined to try. Gaining courage, I turned the knob. On unsteady legs, I made my way into the hallway. It was narrow and longer than I had expected. There were multiple doorways to my right. But I assumed they were bedrooms, so I turned to my left. Sure enough, I stepped into the family room, complete with brick fireplace and large paintings. Even this room was decorated in an old-fashioned way. And not only that, but everything was gold and ornate like it belonged in a castle, not a home in the middle of the forest. The furniture clashed with the state of the place. It was clear that the house hadn’t had any maintenance in years. There were cracks in the walls, water dripping from a tiny hole in the ceiling. Almost like the place had been abandoned at some point.
Another shiver ran through me, my trepidation growing.
The front door wasn’t far off, so I hurried as much as I could toward it. Unfortunately, I was moving a lot slower than I normally would. Every step hurt. By the time I reached the door, I surmised that I must’ve hit my head and damaged my ribs when I got in the accident. I was just grateful I could walk. My legs felt weak, and it appeared that I might have hurt one, but I was mobile.
Shuffling sounded further into the house as if someone was walking around in one of the back bedrooms. If they noticed I was gone, they’d find me in no time. It’s not like I could move fast. Desperation blooming, I unlocked the front door. Then I swung it open. Cool air smacked me in the face, so sharp it stole my breath. Ignoring the stinging in my lungs and throat, I closed the door behind me and hurried forward.
Trees enveloped me. It was all I could see for miles. I spun around, searching for the road or other houses, but saw neither. My heart plummeted. Where would I go? How would I make it out of this place? As if in answer to my internal questions, I spotted my car. Hope swelling like a wave about to crest, I patted the keys I’d thrown in my purse and walked toward it. But the closer I got, I saw that the hood was open. A head popped up from inside of it. Flinching, I leapt back, hiding behind a nearby tree.
It was the man who had given me the pain medication. The one that had found me and brought me here. Heart arresting, I peeked behind the tree, wanting to see his face. But he was still wearing that stupid mask. Why the secrecy? Who was he? Did he think I’d recognize him? Would I?
As much as I desired answers to these questions, my need for freedom was stronger. Glancing back at the house, fear’s fingers reached for me again, clawing and gripping at me. The outside of the house was even more neglected than inside. The shutters were broken, the roof in need of repair. Whirling around, I started walking. I had no idea where this path would take me, but at least it was away from this old house.
I only got a few feet before the trees spun around me. Something trickled down my head, and I reached up to wipe it away. When I drew my hand back, it was slick with black red blood. Dizziness swept over me. Spots filled my vision. Knees buckling, the ground came at me hard and fast.
“Ooomph.” Pine needles scraped at my arms, the ground cold beneath me.
“Oh, no!” I heard a male voice cry out. “Nina! I need help!”
Reaching out, I tried to pull myself up, but it was a losing battle. A shadow cast over me, hands touching my head, my hair, my arms.
“What are you doing? You’re in no condition to be outside.” The scent of tools, chemicals and car grease wafted under my nose. At least Nina hadn’t been lying about the fact that he was working on the car. It was the leaving part I was having a hard time believing though. A man who lived in the middle of nowhere and wore a mask was someone who had something to hide. Something he wouldn’t want me to go blabbing about around town. “We need to get you back inside. Nina will clean up your wounds again.” Arms roughly slid under my back and lifted me from the ground. My arms and legs dangled as he drew me in close. “Hold onto my neck. It’ll make it easier,” he said gruffly. A command, not a suggestion. I did as I was told. Nestling into him, I remembered doing this as a child with my dad. The masked man was surprisingly strong as he carried me toward the house.
“Is she okay?” Nina’s voice rang out from the doorway.
“I’m not sure,” he said with a heavy sigh under his words.
My stomach tightened. Was I in that bad of shape? If so, shouldn’t I be in a hospital? This time when my gaze found my car, I noticed what I’d missed before in my wishful thinking and haste to get out of here. The entire windshield was broken, the front of the car smashed in.
He repositioned me so we would both fit through the front door. Defeat embraced me as he brought me back to the room I’d just escaped from. I was never getting out of here. I was certain of it. But I was too tired, too weak, too damaged, to fight it. Weary, I allowed him to lower me onto the bed. Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes.
“Nina will be in to clean you up,” he said gruffly. “Don’t try that again. You might not be so lucky next time.”
Lucky? I wanted to laugh at his choice of words. None of this was lucky. Lucky would’ve been making it home safely from the party. Lucky would have been hanging out with my friends and family, preparing to leave for college. Getting in an accident and being stranded in a house in the middle of nowhere was most definitely not lucky. In fact, I think that this was the definition of unlucky.
But he left the room before I could say any of that. He really needed to work on his bedside manner.
Exactly like the masked man had said, Nina came into the room a few minutes later with a first aid kit. As she started cleaning me up, her hands were cold and rough. She wasn’t friendly, but she was efficient. It was obvious that she knew what she was doing.
“I couldn’t find my phone. It wasn’t in my purse,” I said to her as she wiped my forehead with a wet rag. It stung, but I drew in a sharp breath. When she didn’t respond, I continued, “Is it in my car?”
“I’ll take a look,” she said, and I wondered if I could believe her.
“I’d like to call my family and let them know I’m okay,” I hedged.
“Hold still,” she commanded, placing a bandage over my forehead.
“Please, can I call them?”
She patted the bandage. “You need to get some sleep, dear.” When she stood, I grabbed her wrist.
“Please. I’m sure they’re worried.”
“I’m afraid there’s no way to call them,” she answered, wriggling her arm from my weak grasp. “We don’t have phone
s.”
How was that possible? “But I do. I have a phone. I just need to find it.”
“If it turns up, I’ll bring it to you,” she said before hurrying out of the room.
I knew then that I would never get my phone back. Sad, scared and tired, I allowed myself to fall into a deep slumber. When I awoke again, it was pitch black and cold. I drew the covers tighter and nestled back in, not wishing to be awake in the middle of the night in this strange place. The house creaked and moaned as if it were a person and not an inanimate object. I felt like I was in a haunted house, and I half expected a ghost to walk through the closed door. Our home was newer, built within the last five years. It didn’t make noises. It didn’t have cracks in the walls, and it didn’t smell like mold. The furniture was up to date, and the exterior was newly painted. Tears sprang to my eyes as homesickness washed over me. It was my desire for home that got me in this mess, and now I was worried I’d never see it again. The irony was not lost on me.
Sleep was my only friend those first few days at the strange house with the masked man. I drifted in and out of it at will. Most of the times when I woke up, I forced myself back into a dreamless slumber. I preferred it to the nightmare that had become my reality.
Sometimes when I awoke Nina was in my room checking on me or leaving food. Other times she forced medicine down my throat. No matter how many times I attempted to pry information from her, she never said anything outside of the instructions on what I was to do.
He rarely came to my room in those first few days. Not until I got a fever. It ravaged through me, sweat soaking my skin and the sheets on the bed. Nina ran out to get medication and he stayed by my bedside. Often, I was delirious and would cry out. I would babble in unintelligible ways, calling on my family. He would stroke my hand and promise I’d see them soon. All I had to do was hold on. All I had to do was get better.
When Nina returned with medicine, I could tell it was working right away. Within days, my fever had subsided. My sheets and skin were clean, and I was becoming more lucid. The fire that had raged inside of me for days cooled off.
One morning, I opened my eyes to find him sitting in a chair by my bed. He was still wearing that mask, and I was tempted to reach out and yank it off. His voice wasn’t familiar. I’d scrutinized it for days, wondering if I knew him. But I was certain I didn’t. That’s why the mask didn’t make sense. Why hide from me if I didn’t know him?
“Who are you?” I asked, feeling emboldened. My strength was returning, both physically and mentally. I felt more like myself. More assured. More confident. And I was tired of being in the dark.
Mutely, he stood. It was the same with Nina. For some reason, I could know her name, but not his. It was starting to upset me. If I was stuck here, at least we should know each other’s names.
“I’m Layla,” I said to his back as he started to leave. “Layla Higgins.”
He froze, his shoulders stiffening. Then he slowly pivoted. “Layla,” he rolled the word off his tongue, and a funny feeling landed in the pit of my stomach. His voice was low and husky, almost animalistic, but not unappealing. “That’s pretty.” The words were surprising. He didn’t strike me as the complimentary type.
“Now it’s your turn.” Sitting up slightly, I adjusted the pillow behind my back. My hair was a matted, tangled mess. Reaching up, I tucked a few strands behind my ears.
“Would you like Nina to draw you a bath?” he asked like I was a five-year-old.
“Not now.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. As much as I needed to bathe, this was important to me. If he always remained nameless and faceless, I’d never get through to him. It was my only hope of getting out of here. If he cared about me, and if he saw me as a friend, I was certain he’d keep his promise to let me leave when I was better. “First, I want to know your name. I told you mine, and now it’s only fair that you tell me yours.”
He was quiet a minute, but I could tell he was thinking it over. Finally, he said, “Jasper. My name’s Jasper.”
I bit my lower lip. The name didn’t ring any bells. I’d never known a Jasper. “Jasper what?”
“That’s it. Just Jasper.”
“No last name, huh?”
“Jasper is all you need to know.” Spinning around, he stalked out of the room.
Well, that went well.
3
THE MASK
JASPER HADN’T COME to see me since the day he told me his name. I had no idea how many days had passed, but I knew I was healing. My fever had broken days ago, and I was gradually regaining my strength.
“Where is Jasper?” I asked her one day when she came in to bring me food. “He hasn’t visited in awhile.” I knew I should’ve feared him. I should’ve been glad that he hadn’t been in to see me. But in some ways, I preferred him to Nina. She was quiet and cold, formal. At least Jasper answered my questions, and he was gentle at times, kind even.
“He told you his name?” She snapped, shock in her eyes.
So, it was his real name then? I nodded. “Well, just his first name. Not his last.”
“He’s working on your car,” she said in response to my initial question. “He’s almost done. Soon, you’ll be able to leave.” There was relief in her voice. Not that I was surprised. It was clear that she’d never wanted me here. In some ways it irked me, but mostly I was glad. It gave me hope that they were really going to let me go as they’d promised, even though deep down I had serious doubts.
I’d asked Nina about my phone multiple times, but she swore that she had not been able to find it. There was no way she was telling the truth. Where could it have gone? If it were to get lost in the accident, wouldn’t my purse and its contents get lost too? Also, who didn’t have a phone at their house in this day and age? Nina was going to great lengths to be sure I couldn’t reach out to anyone outside of this house. And that was the main reason I worried they wouldn’t let me go. Someone who was this determined to stay hidden wasn’t going to readily let me leave knowing I could blab about them.
After she left the room, I ate the sandwich she’d brought me. It was ham with mayonnaise which I didn’t like, but I forced it down. I needed to keep up my strength. My first attempt at escape hadn’t gone so well. The next time I was determined to be successful.
I only hoped it didn’t come to that.
Nina kept my bedroom door locked. Even when I bathed or used the bathroom she was always right outside the door when I emerged. For not being a prisoner, I was treated like one. I’d pointed it out to her a few times, but she never acknowledged my statements. She rarely acknowledged me at all.
The ham tasted off, and it turned my stomach. Or perhaps it was the mayonnaise. I’d never liked the taste. I didn’t bother telling Nina, though. She didn’t strike me as the accommodating type. Besides, it’s not like I was staying in a hotel ordering room service. In fact, I had no idea what I was here. Guest? Patient? Captive? It was hard to tell.
The front door opened and then slammed closed. Hushed voices traveled from the family room. Usually it was quiet here. I never heard a television or radio. And rarely did I hear Nina and Jasper talking to one another. At home, there was always noise – chatter, laughter, music, movies, TV shows, online videos. Sometimes I even complained about it. Like on nights when I had a ton of homework or when I was trying to talk to a friend on the phone. But I’d give anything to hear all that noise now. The silence was creepy.
Setting the remainder of my sandwich down on the plate, I slid off the bed, wiping my hands on the thigh of my sweat pants. The clothes I wore here were nothing like what I wore at home. One day Nina had brought me a stack of clothes, all consisting of sweat pants and t-shirts that appeared to have been purchased at a discount store. I asked about my dress, but was told that Nina was washing and repairing it. That seemed to be the answer for everything. The car was being worked on. My dress was being worked on. I was being worked on.
I still had some pain in my ribs and my
head, but my leg was much better and I could move around somewhat easily now. After making my way to the door, I attempted the knob. I knew the door would be locked, but it was worth a try. Then I pressed my ear to the door. It took a minute to make out their words. I had to hone in intently.
“She’s asking too many questions,” Nina said in a harsh tone.
“I’m almost done with the car, and you said that she’s recovering, so don’t worry. She won’t be here much longer.”
“She never should’ve been here in the first place.”
“So, you think I should’ve left her out there to die?” I cringed at his words.
“Someone would’ve found her eventually.”
“By then it would’ve been too late,” he said. “And I had no way of calling for help.”
My stomach twisted. So, they really didn’t have phones? What kind of place was this? What kind of people were they? And if his words were true, then he did save my life. If not for him, I wouldn’t have survived. It was weird knowing that the strange masked man that struck fear in my heart was my savior. I think it was why I preferred him to Nina. Even though he terrified me, I also sort of liked him. It was confusing. Everything about this experience was. I wanted it to end. It felt like a dream, surreal and haunting. I longed to go back home. Back to where everything was familiar and comfortable. Back to where I was safe.
“What if she tells people about us?” Nina asked.
He let out a bitter chuckle. “She probably will, but who cares? We took care of her. We helped her recover, and then we let her go. We did nothing wrong.”
Technically that was true, I guess.
“What if they come looking for us?”
“Even if they do, they’ll never find us.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Trust me. I have it under control,” he said firmly, and I wondered what that meant.
“I’m only trying to protect you, Jasper. It’s what I’ve always done.”