5

HOME SWEET HOME.

At first I was excited about coming home. I was looking forward to seeing my family, but the house was empty. Most of the time I mulled around the house reminiscing and looking through more photo albums. Jake disappeared again leaving me on my own once more. At least I wasn’t completely alone; my gray tabby cat, Nermle, was there. He was so thrilled to see me when I got home he could barely contain himself, which was highly unusual for him. Normally, he was a big grouch and didn’t have the time of day for anyone unless they had food. When I returned, Nermle meowed and he purred and rubbed his chubby face against me, tickling me with his long whiskers.
And then there were the voices. Shortly after I arrived home I started hearing eerie whispers. Sometimes they sounded angry, but mostly they seemed sad. At night I heard crying coming from my parent’s room, but that wasn’t all. I would see and hear doors open and close, the shower would run, and the toilet would flushe, but no one was there. It was like I was living with the ghosts of my family. I could feel them all around me, but they were just out of reach.
My grandpa told me I needed to find my light. I’ve heard you go into a light when you die. Why didn’t I see it? Finding the answer to that question weighed on my mind, in fact it was an obsession. It was making me stir-crazy. I had recently discovered I was trapped in the house so that didn’t make matters any better. The front door was open when Jake and I parted ways, but now it was closed. I’ve tried opening it, I tried all the doors, but none of them would budge. Ever since I found myself in this crazy place reality began unraveling before my eyes, and I was too. Chances are that by the time I do see a light I’ll be too whacked to notice.
I retired to my bedroom: it was quieter there and my cat decided to join me. You might think that being surrounded by all my things and happy memories would bring me solace. At first it did. I loved my fuchsia and magenta walls. I adored my huge bed covered in downy blankets and overstuffed pillows. It was a teenage girl’s dream. However as time passed I was only reminded of a life I could no longer have. I laid down on my bed and Nermle curled up on the pillow next to my head. He purred and swished his extraordinarily bushy tail, hitting me in the face. Normally I would have swatted him away, instead, I stared listlessly up at the ceiling.
I thought about the woman Jake and I had encountered in the sanitarium. I will never forget the excruciating sorrow conveyed through her sods. Her cries were profoundly laden with fear and heartbreaking loneliness. I wanted to help her. I don’t understand why Jake had insisted that we leave her alone. It seemed so uncaring. That woman was unable to find her light, which made me fearful. Obviously, she had been tethered to that horrible place for quite some time without finding her way. What hope did I have?
From the corner of my eye I could see my bedroom door opening slowly. I paid no attention to it. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a door mysteriously move of its own accord. But, then a haggard form crept into the shadowy room. My eyes grew wide and I violently gasped, stifling a startled scream. I held my hands over my chest to conceal the audible pounding of my heart. I was stunned when I realized the gaunt being approaching the bed was my younger sister, Cloey. I laid on the bed perfectly still I didn’t want to do anything that might scare her. As Cloey drew closer I noticed how thin, and not in a healthy way, she had become. Her eyes were sunken and red. She was uncharacteristically pale (Cloey sported a killer tan all year long), and her raven hair was stringy and unkempt. Normally, my Cloey only wore the cutest outfit no matter the time of day, but this Cloey was dressed in a ratty tank top and threadbare pajama bottoms. I hardly recognized this wisp of a girl as my sister. It tore at my heart.
Cloey knelt on the floor near the bed and reached to retrieve something from beneath. I carefully sat up to watch her slide a decorative box from its hiding place under my bed. It didn’t belong to me, I had never seen it before. Cloey opened the box and reverently removed items from it one at a time. The box didn’t belong to me but objects contained inside it did. As Cloey lovingly admired my effects I became ill at ease. The costume jewelry that Cloey tilted and turned to catch the light and make it sparkle was the same jewelry I was wearing. The expensive but broken wristwatch adorning my arm had a twin that was in perfect working order. There was also a photograph that Cloey brought out to look at. In it I was wearing the same black chiffon halter dress I had on now and next to me stood a fine young man in a handsome tuxedo. The corners of the photo looked a little dog-eared as though it had been handled repeatedly. As Cloey gazed upon the photo I could see that her hands were shaking.
I put my hand to my lips at keep from crying out. I remembered having that picture taken. The young man in the picture was Kevin Michaels, and senior prom was going to be our first date. What I was beginning to realize was that it was also our last date. And the reason Cloey was so entranced with the photograph was, it was most likely the last picture taken of me alive. I felt as though my throat was about to close; I swallowed hard to rid myself of the lump inside it, but to no avail.
I could see my little sister’s slender shoulders shutter as she placed the precious items back into the box. Before covering it she reached down to the bottom to retrieve a one-pint bottle of Tennessee whiskey. The paper seal was broken and a third of the bottle was already gone. Cloey tossed back a huge gulp and grimaced to keep it down. She coughed and sputtered, but she took another swig, regardless. Her coughs gave way to sobs. My sister pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in my comforter. Her body heaved as she began to bawl. I couldn’t bear to see her pain. I went to the door and slipped out.
I went to my mother and father’s room. I didn’t exactly know what I was going to be able to accomplish. I hoped that I could communicate with my mom and dad, like I had with the men in the sanitarium. I tried to open the bedroom door but as before I couldn’t turn the knob.
“Shit!” I exclaimed.
I pounded on the door with my fists and I kicked it with my feet. I screamed and I shouted. I begged my mom and dad to open the bedroom door. I told them that Cloey and I needed them. But no one came to the door. No one heard me. I had worked myself into such a frenzy that I was crying as hard has Cloey.
I couldn’t stand it there anymore; it wasn’t my home anymore. I needed to find a way out. I ran down the hall into the dining room. Through my tears I saw the patio door. It was open, or so I thought. I ran through the doorway and suddenly had the sensation that I was covered with thick cobwebs from head to toe. I screamed and tried to wipe away the webs, but there were none. Then I realized the patio screen had been closed and I had passed right through it. I was relieved to be out of the house, but I was still frantic.
I ran across my backyard and into the woods beyond. I wasn’t really thinking about where I was going. I was on a path that led to the lake. My father, sister, and I had spent many happy hours there swimming or fishing, but that wasn’t what was on my mind. The only thing I could think of was Jacob. He seemed to know more about this crazy world than I would ever wish to and for that reason I felt safest around him.
I reached the top of a ridge and should have found myself looking out onto the lake. Instead, I was looking down at a vast hole where all the water should be. I wiped away my tears. I was suddenly very aware that something was very wrong. I remember my father telling me that the lake had been a granite quarry and it was very deep. What I found was more than just a hole in the ground. It was a gaping wound in the earth itself.
I was uncomfortable and was about to leave when I heard a familiar shriek. I had no time to react before they were upon me. I was surrounded by dozens small reptilian monsters. They bit at my arms and legs with needlelike teeth. They growled and hissed as they lashed out at me over and over. I stumbled and slide down the side of the ridge toward the hole. I rolled side to side to keep the monsters off me. I got up again trying to escape and stumbled even farther into the empty lake. The ground was rocky and unstable and I couldn’t keep my footing. I fell onto my stomach and was overwhelmed by attackers. I could feel them tearing at my flesh and I screamed.
Without warning I could feel and hear another creature, a larger one. My hair had fallen over my face and I couldn’t see, but I could hear the monsters’ panic. They abandoned their assault and retreated towards the quarry. I looked up to see the little black dog bounding over me, giving chase to the lizard monsters.
“Clair!” I heard Jake shout.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Jacob. It only took a few seconds for him to climb down the ridge and kneel at my side. Once he quickly looked me over he turned his attention to the barking dog in the distance. He whistled as loud as he could trying to call her back, but she wouldn’t give up the chase. She raced into the deep shadowy pit and was soon out of site. All we could hear was barking echoing against the granite walls and then nothing at all.