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Ties To The Blood Moon

Page 17

by Robin P. Waldrop


  Chapter 15

  Getting back inside proved to be a bit more difficult than sneaking out had been. I guess I could have knocked on the door and told Aunt Bev I’d heard a noise outside. And when I went to see what it was had accidently locked myself out. Being the dare devil I’d recently become, I decided to climb back up on the roof and slip in the way I had gone out.

  I pushed some loose bangs behind my ear while standing in the back yard studying the house. I saw a gutter system in place, but didn’t know if it would withstand my weight. Even though I barely weighed a 110 pounds, the downspout was only held on by three tiny metal straps. Just as I was about to give up and knock on the door, I tripped over something laying next to the garage as I rounded the corner.

  Low and behold it was a ladder. A smile stretched across my face. “Thank you,” I whispered to no one in particular, then grunted as I lifted the heavy wooden step-ladder.

  “Damn, this thing is heavy! What kind of wood is this freakin’ ladder made from?” I strained so hard, my eyeballs felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets any minute. Somehow, I managed to maneuver it around to the back yard and leaned it up against the house.

  I was all proud when I climbed up and stood on the roof like I’d just conquered the Romans. However, I failed to think my plan through. I eased up the window and climbed through head first, and fell sprawled onto my bed, which made a loud thudding noise against the floor. I lay still, panting quietly, as if Aunt Bev could hear me panting from downstairs. If she didn’t hear the thud against her ceiling, she certainly couldn’t hear my breathing patterns.

  When I felt sure the coast was clear, I got on my knees and crawled to the head of my bed to close the window. I pulled the curtain back and peered out. My eyes bugged out when I saw the top of the ladder sticking up over the lower roof. It screamed here I am right where Gen left me after she snuck out and back in.

  My shoulders dropped. I shook my head, and furrowed my brows. I chewed the inside of my lip trying to figure out what to do. The way I saw it, I only had two choices. I could leave it there until morning in hopes of waking before Aunt Bev did, or I could push it off the house and take I chance of it hitting the deck and waking her. Even if the latter didn’t end up on the deck, I’d still have to make sure to wake up early so I could put it away before she saw it.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to decide. My bedroom door swung open, and the light switched on. I promptly dropped away from my window, and turned to find Aunt Bev standing inside my door with her arms folded tightly across her chest.

  “Where have you been?” She asked, but I felt sure she already knew the answer.

  “Um…,” I trailed off, pushing loose bangs behind my ears.

  “You went searching for Luna, didn’t you?”

  Tears stung my eyes, and my shoulders fell hard. “I had to…it was my fault she ran away.”

  “Don’t you realize you could have been killed out there?” She asked, looking at me severely.

  I debated on whether or not to tell her about the giant wolves, but opted not to. “I didn’t go far,” I lied. “Luna told me she lived just across the lake. So I only walked, like, part of the way around, but it was so dark in the woods I couldn’t see, and I came home.

  “Well… if you would have stayed here you would have known that Luna’s mother called over an hour ago and said she was safe at home.”

  That couldn’t be true, because I had just talked to Luna in the woods thirty minutes ago. I thought Luna’s mom and Aunt Bev were close, so why would her mom lie?

  “See… everything’s fine then.” I smiled and tried to make light of the situation, but she wasn’t buying it.

  “You’re not in Iowa, or Idaho, or any of those safe places you and your mom lived in before. Alaska is a whole different world, with many large animals that won’t hesitate to kill you.

  “You’re right.” I tried to look remorseful. “It was a dumb thing to do. I promise I’ll never do it again,” I lied, hoping she’d buy it. The truth was, I couldn’t or wouldn’t make a promise like that. If I had a friend I knew was in trouble, I would do everything in my power to help them, no matter what Aunt Bev had to say.

  Apparently, it worked. She switched off the light and closed my door without saying anything else. I laid back on my bed in the darkness, my arms folded behind my head, and thought about what I’d just done. I had lied to the one person who’d been there for me, who I felt would always be there for me, and she believed it. I thought I’d feel good about getting away with it, but the truth was, it made me a little sad.

  I woke up freezing, and glanced at the clock on my bedside table. Four-fifteen was illuminated in red. I started to climb under the covers when I noticed my curtain moving. I shot forward in the bed and spun my upper body around. My window was open but I remembered closing it before I fell asleep.

  I jumped off the bed and switched on my lamp, half expecting to find a rapist or murderer lurking in my room. My heart pounded and my throat tightened. After what I had witnessed in the woods, anything could have been hiding in my room. Maybe monsters really did exist.

  I inched my way to my closet, and placed both hands on the knobs. I took a deep breath and snatched both doors open at the same time. Relief washed over me when my closet was empty except for my things. I closed the doors back and then turned to face my room. Even though I hadn’t found anyone, I had the distinct feeling someone had been in there while I slept.

  I closed my window and locked it, then crawled under my blankets. Every time I closed my eyes I pictured the wolves and their piercing eyes.

  It felt like I had just gone back to sleep when I was startled by a knock on my door.

  “Gen,” Aunt Bev called out before turning the knob and coming in.

  “Yeah,” I replied gruffly. I cracked open one eye and noticed something in her hand that strongly resembled a hammer. I slowly sat up. “What are you doing?” I yawned the words.

  “Get up and you’ll see,” she snapped, and I detected more than a just hint of anger in her voice.

  I guess I moved too slowly for her, because she crossed the room, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up onto my feet. I dropped my shoulders “What?” I whined.

  “I need to stand on your bed.” She scoffed. She climbed up on my bed and proceeded to nail my window shut while I watched. She looked at me over her shoulder. “You didn’t actually think I bought all that crap you were feeding me last night did you?”

  “I can’t believe you’re treating me like a child,” I shouted.

  “I can’t believe you’re behaving like one,” she shouted right back.

  Realizing I couldn’t do anything about it, I grabbed my phone and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “Who does she think she is? She’s not my mother, and I’m not a baby,” I grumbled, while descending the stairs, two at a time.

  I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of juice, grabbed an apple, and went into the den. I dropped onto the couch and pulled my feet up to my chest. After pulling my hair up in a messy bun, I text messaged William.

  Good morning. Are we still on for today? I pounded on the keys so hard my fingertips hurt.

  Aunt Bev passed through the den on her way to the kitchen, and I glowered at her the whole way, but she never once looked at me so that was a wasted effort.

  “You want some breakfast?” She called out happily from the kitchen.

  “No,” I yelled. “Don’t waste your time… I’m-not-hungry!”

  I scooped the remote from the table and switched on the t.v., although on Sunday mornings hardly anything decent came on. I flipped through the channels twice before settling for a Lifetime movie.

  Aunt Bev called out something from the kitchen, but I just turned up the volume a little more to drown her out. If she was determined to treat me like a child, I might as well play the part and act as juvenile as I could.

  I wasn’t really interested in watching a m
ovie where the plot was always basically the same. A man killed his wife, wanted to kill his wife, or ran away from his wife. I kept checking my phone, but William hadn’t answered. I guess just because I was forced to get up at dawn didn’t mean he should have to.

  Two hours of Lifetime and I was ready to scream. Unable to force myself to suffer through another movie, after the first one ended with the husband going to prison, I decided I’d had enough and went up to get ready for mine and William’s picnic. At least I had that to look forward to.

  At exactly eleven fifty-five, Kryptonite started playing on my phone. I dove across my bed and snatched it from the nightstand.

  Hey gorgeous. Are you ready? William texted.

  Yeah. Where are you? I answered anxiously.

  I heard the door bell ring, and Aunt Bev yelled that she would get it. When William didn’t text right back, I figured it must be him at the door. I took my time grabbing my things, and strolled down the stairs.

  When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Aunt Bev had just closed the door.

  “Is that William?” I asked, smiling.

  Aunt Bev turned around to face me. I could tell by the look on her face whatever it was couldn’t be good.

  “I told him you can’t go.” She said severely. “Until you can learn to obey the rules, you can just sit at home.”

  “You can’t do that,” I screamed, a tear dripped from my chin.

  “Oh…I can, and I did. Now go back up stairs and change.” She pointed up the stairs.

  “I hate you! And just for the record…my home burnt down.” I ran up the stairs, not bothering to look back, and slammed my door so hard my shelf hit the floor. I threw myself across my bed and sobbed. Every time I stared at the nails I cried harder. The nails were the only thing stopping me from escaping.

  Once my tears subsided, they were quickly replaced with anger. The nails keeping my window from opening were the only thing stopping my escape. I even tried prying the window open with anything I could find, but she had hammered in several nails and there was no way I would get it open.

  I sat in the middle of my bed with my arms wrapped around my knees feeling sorry for myself, and hating my living situation. I couldn’t wait until graduation, then I would be able to leave this crazy place.

  My text message went off, and I jerked up my phone. It was William.

  Don’t sit there on your bed feeling sorry for yourself. He wrote.

  What else is there to do? I messaged back, and then it hit me. How did William know where I was sitting?

 

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