ODAAT: Volume 1, Chapter 7

 

Chapter 7

Glass Of Water

I can hear footsteps, creaking along the floorboards at the foot of my bed. Each step seems to be coming closer to the end of the curtain that surrounds our bed. Hunter hates the curtain, but I can't sleep without it there. Otherwise, I'm staring restlessly at what feels like an endless void beyond the foot of the bed. Right now, those footsteps are light. Undetermined. Hunter is asleep beside me, so I know that it isn't him. We don't have pets anymore, not since our cat ran away a few months ago. Ironically, the cat made it across town and was adopted by him. So I can visit the cat anytime I want to. Hunter doesn't know that, of course. He wouldn't care anyway. He only bought the cat as a decoration. It was something to fill the silence between us. He knew that words weren't going to be enough anymore. It was a peace offering, I think. He wanted to stop the war of silence. He doesn't seem to realize that the silence isn't a war, it's a surrender. I wasn't shocked when the cat ran away. I would have too, if I wasn't so stubborn.

I hear the footsteps stop. The final imprint is at the end of the bed on my side. I pull the curtain back slightly to see what the commotion is about. We don't lock our door, so it could be anyone. But, I would have heard the gate open, or the intercom go off. It's unlikely that someone has broken in. They would have stayed in the living room, where all the electronics are. No robber would have bolted up the stairs to the bedroom. I pause as the curtain reveals her. She's standing there, staring at me with this blank expression on her face. She's got hollowed eyes that are blackened from the lack of light in the bedroom. Or, it's from a demonic force that has brought her here in the first place. I sigh and slightly shiver. She always gives me this uneasy feeling. It's something in her presence. I'm normally brave or bold. I'm not scared of anything. I'm willing to take on everything. But, she has a way of undoing me. She destroys me completely. She doesn't say anything, either. She just stares at me, unblinking. It's entirely nerve-wracking. I don't know what she wants, or I'd rather pretend I didn't. The truth is, I know what she wants. I know there's only one reason she ever shows up.

I used to be more scared of her. I guess I've gotten used to her with time. Back when I was a kid, her appearance would rattle me. I'd cry for days, refuse to sleep with the lights off. I once told my mother there was a little girl in my room. She dismissed it completely, saying it was a side-effect of my overactive imagination. I don't have an overactive imagination though. She's real. I know she's real. I knew even as a child that she was real. My mother wouldn't care anyway. Unless the little girl I spoke of was made of cocaine, she wasn't batting an eyelash. But, she attempted the typical parent response of telling me that monsters don't exist. She had an overactive imagination. Monsters are real. She isn't a monster though. She's not real in the sense of a physical presence, either. No one else can see her except me. She's a manifestation. As I grew older, I started to make connections about when she would appear. She still frightens me, sends chills down my spine, but she makes sense now. I know why she's here. Of course, this is the first time she's ever made sound as she approached. She doesn't usually make her appearance known. Usually, I open my eyes and she's standing in front of me. Sometimes I scream. Sometimes I shut my eyes tightly and hope she goes away. Tonight, I throw my legs over the edge of the bed and look her right in the eyes.

"What are you doing here?" I ask out loud. I'd be worried about waking up the person beside me if I didn't know that he slept like the dead. God, I wish I could have a fraction of that ability. Sleep would be nice every once in a while. It feels like I haven't slept in weeks, but I know I got a few hours the other night. I slept when I was by his side.

I get out of the bed and walk towards her. As I pass through her, I grab the glass that's sitting on the dresser. I head to the bathroom down the hall to fill the glass. Normally, I keep one by the bed. I've been too out of it recently to be normal. I guess that seeing him really shook me up. It's not seeing him, necessarily. It's what he asked of me. It was one thing when we were going behind their backs to spend time together. We were loyal, at least physically. We've always been emotionally disloyal because that's the way we are. We've avoided going out together in the daylight, to avoid other people getting the wrong impression. But, he's left Blake. Now, he's waiting for me to leave Hunter. I keep telling him that I want to be there for Hunter. I want to be there. Then he argues that Hunter won't come out of it. He says that Hunter is too far gone. I can see his point, I guess. I look over my shoulder, where she is still standing at the foot of my bed. She's turned to face me though. She's watching every move I make the same way she always does. I walk back into the bedroom, walking through her again as I sit on the edge of my bed. I think about the conversation him and I had after dinner. I look back at her.

"Is that why you're here?" I ask softly. There's no response, but a smile creeps over her face. Her smile is creepy, like she's plotting something. She can't look any other way, even if she wanted to. She's cute, in a dead-child-coming-back-to-life sort of way. Her skin is pale and she looks like a younger version of me. It makes sense, because she technically is.

With that, she's gone. She leaves behind only a feeling that something is wrong in my life.

Of course she's offering her opinion on him. I tap my finger on the edge of the glass that's in my hand. I drink down the contents and let it fall to the table in front of me. Yeah, he'll get his answer.