Inside 863

Chapter 6 | 12/25/2020

I woke to the sound of chimes. Confused, I rubbed my bleary eyes. Then, I remembered that I was house sitting at my parents' house. They owned a great grandfather clock that stood in the living room. It rang out through the house with ten long peals. I got out of bed and changed into a striped, burgundy colored sweater and a pair of leggings. I walked to the bathroom, picked up my hairbrush, and started to drag it through the tangled dark folds. After I brushed it thoroughly, I looked at myself in the mirror. A foreboding scar was etched into my forehead an inch above my eyebrow. It was mostly concealed by my hair, but the part I could see gave me chills. A nasty souvenir from my fear provoking encounter.

My stomach growled. Time for breakfast, I thought, setting the brush on the bathroom counter and heading for the kitchen. I toasted myself some eggo waffles, then poured some kibble into Max's bowl. He licked my hand in an affectionate expression of gratitude, then started to chomp away at his food. I munched on my waffles. It was very enjoyable to have a quiet Christmas morning, but also a little bit lonely. No nieces and nephews bouncing around the place with their new toys and candy clenched tightly in their little fists. No family picture in ugly matching pajamas. No tantalizing smell of irresistibly delicious cinnamon rolls sitting on the table. No piping hot coffee to sit and drink by the fire with loved ones. No Christmas carols playing on the radio. Of course, I could make cinnamon rolls and coffee and play Christmas songs on the radio, but none of it was quite the same without my mom, dad, my brother and his wife and kids. At least I had the always loyal Max as a companion. I wasn't completely alone. It was just strange to have only the sound of Max chewing his pellets instead of squeals of glee from the children, the casual talk of the adults, the whistling of the kettle, and playing cheerily in the background, all the Christmas songs I know and love best.

My phone dinged and I pulled it out of my pocket to see who had texted me. It was Dakota. Does 7 tonight work for dinner? it read.

Yep, I texted back.

Your welcome to stay after dinner for movie night. We'll be watching Elf. It's a family tradition, he texted.

Sounds good! I replied, then set my phone down on the counter and finished my waffles.

***

I rapped the door to Dakota's parents' house. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Dakota.

"Come on in," he said, flashing his usual grin. He was dressed in a hoodie and joggers. I walked inside the house. Immediately, my nose was hit with the smell of honey roasted ham and freshly baked rolls. Mrs. Farling surely knows how to make an outstanding meal. At least, an outstanding smelling meal, I thought. Dakota led me to the kitchen where a middle aged couple was bringing out the food. Green beans, mashed potatoes, fruit salad, and the glorious ham. The woman, who I assumed was Dakota's mom, poured water into each of the four glasses. I sat at one of the chairs and Dakota sat beside me. Mr. and Mrs. Farling sat across from me.

"Dakota honey, will you say grace?" Mrs. Farling asked.

"Yeah, I can," Dakota said, but his heart didn't seem to be with it. I closed my eyes and bowed my head as Dakota began to speak. I hadn't really bought into the whole Christianity thing yet, but I felt I was starting to lean towards it recently. Being surrounded by so many loving coworkers really encouraged it, especially after Matt explained how Jesus Christ loved him and how he loved me too. It was kind of cool to know that some supernatural, almighty savior king loved me dearly, enough to die for me, even though I'd never really paid any attention to him.

"Dear heavenly Father, thank you for this time we get to be together. Thank you that Payten can share this meal with us. Thank you for sending your son to an evil and sinful world because you loved and cared for us." Dakota praying reminded me of the man who had driven me home almost a month ago. I still thought it was curious that I was never able to pay him.

"Thank you for giving us wealth and for this delicious meal we are about to eat. Please bless this food and thank you for always listening. In your name we pray, amen." He opened his eyes and picked up his fork. I looked at Dakota. He was deliberately avoiding my gaze, for a reason I did not know. He mostly kept his face looking in the opposite direction of mine, but when he looked over for a moment to scoop his mashed potatoes, his face was full of....guilt? This confused me. What internal struggle was he going through? Why right as dinner started? And why was he avoiding only me and not his parents? I decided not to worry about it, and instead distracted myself with the delectable meal.

After we finished eating, Mrs. Farling said, "It's movie time! Are you staying for the movie, Payten?"

"Why not?" I replied with a smile. Mr. Farling groaned.

"Stephen!" Mrs. Farling said, sounding shocked. She pushed him a little and added, "Don't be so rude." Mr. Farling opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then apparently changed his mind. He gave Dakota a knowing look. Dakota's eyes widened. Then he said, "Dad, did you eat too much? Don't you remember what happened last year?" His voice sounded oddly choppy and mechanical, as if the words did not slide naturally out of his mouth. Mr. Farling nodded. He seemed sick to his stomach.

"Your excused," Mrs. Farling said reluctantly, and Mr. Farling jumped to his feet. He rushed out of the room, and I heard the steps creak as he went up the stairs.

"Let's go watch that movie," said Mrs. Farling, and she stood and walked out of the kitchen. Dakota and I followed. He was still ignoring me. I sat down on the small beige couch. Dakota and Mrs. Farling sat beside me, even though there were other chairs in the room. I sat on the end of the couch with Dakota beside me and Mrs. Farling beside him. The couch was small enough that I was a little too close for comfort. During the pandemic, I had enlarged my personal space bubble. Even before then, my smaller personal space bubble would've been broken into by Dakota. That's how close we were sitting.

Mrs. Farling started the movie. I had already seen Elf many times, for it was a Christmas tradition in my house too. The movie rolled on for a few minutes before I began to feel unusually sleepy. Probably the warm house and good food, I thought. I tried my hardest to stay awake, but a few minutes later, I drifted off into a deep sleep.

"What should we do with her?" said a familiar voice. It was the usual nightmare, I realized. Every time I was stuck in my body with my eyes closed, unable to speak or move.

"Kill her," said a gravelly voice.

"No," the first objected. "We already have enough blood on our hands. I don't think we should take her, either. The cops would definitely be after us then. John wouldn't be able to cover us up anymore after that. He's not as high up in the LAPD as you think."

"So, what do you suggest we do?" said the gravelly one.

"I don't know."

"Well, then I say we kill her."

"They'll notice she's missing eventually."

"You're right. They'll notice and they'll suspect you. You certainly haven't done the finest job of keeping a low profile like I asked you to," the gravelly one said.

"Sorry. I'm trying my best, Dad," the first one said.

"Your best isn't good enough. You know I need those vials. If you really loved me you would try harder," the gravelly one spat. I tried to break free as the man carried my body towards the car, just like I did every time I had this dream. Still no luck.

"Leave the car running," said the gravelly one. "Let the battery die and the gas run out. We'll see how the little girl handles trying to get home." The man laughed cruelly. "With luck, Matthias and his friends will think this one's gone nuts."

"Yeah," the first agreed, but he sounded less sure. A few moments later, I heard the first whisper, "I'm sorry, Payten. I've got myself caught in this and I don't think I can escape."

"Hurry up over there!" I heard the gravelly one yell.

"Don't leave me!" I tried to say, but no sound came out. I felt so helpless.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said softly.