Let It Be

Chapter 13

"Abby, I know you can hear me."

I was dressed as a bloody flapper-- a bit too sexy for my likings, but I hadn't picked my costume-- posed perfectly still on a table at the community theatre turned haunted house. My job was to stay as still as possible, then slowly turn and look at people, eyes wide and unblinking.

Sam had followed me to the haunted house.

I ignored him, even though his face was only inches from mine. His face was hot; I felt the heat from his breath on my neck. I couldn't quite decide whether I was ignoring him because I was supposed to be a mannequin, or if I was just using that as an excuse to get away from the strangeness of the day.

"Listen to me," he continued.

Then the strangest thing happened: all the commotion around me, all the screams and horror music, it all faded away. It was like my mind zoned in on Sam's voice, and nothing else. Like nothing else mattered.

"Abby, we need to talk," Sam said. It was creepy, since he sounded normal, while everything else was faded in the background. "If you won't do it willingly, then I'm going to have to make you. And I promise I will."

What in the world was happening to me?

When I didn't even blink in response to him, Sam quickly grabbed me around the middle and pulled me off the table. He pulled me into his arms in one smooth motion and quickly proceeded towards the exit, carrying me.

"SAM!" I finally yelled, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance. "What are you doing? Let me down!"

"Shh."

"Sam, I'm WORKING! You can't just pull me out!"

"I already talked to someone at the front. You're free to leave."

"Sam, really! Let me down!"

"Stop causing a scene, Abby. I'll let you down in a second."

The strange feeling again. Immediately, my desire to fight back vanished. My mind went limp. It was as if some wave of power came over me. A wave of power, apparently coming from Sam.

Sam?

Yes. From Sam. It was such a strange feeling, being overwhelmed by his power. If he could command me to shut up, and listen to him, and freeze, what else could he do? "How did you...?"

"Quiet."

I closed my mouth and stared at him with wide eyes, afraid. Not knowing how afraid I should be. What the heck was going on? Sam shifted my weight in his arms as he pushed open the side door of the theatre and proceeded into the parking lot.

It was as if I was nothing more than a handful of leaves, that it took absolutely no effort for him to carry me. I was thin, but I wasn't that thin. He made his way to his car, and then gently let me down.

I took a few steps back as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger's side. "Come on," he said, waiting impatiently for me to climb inside.

"No way."

"Abby, please get in the car."

"I'm not going to willingly let you kidnap me!" I cried.

"I'm not kidnapping you, Abby. Don't you trust me?"

I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling cold. "I'm not so sure at the moment."

His eyes met mine, begging. He was begging me with all of his golden irises and brown lashes and full lips. It was sobering, how sad he looked. Like centuries of horror were weighing down his shoulders. How old he looked. "You know you can still trust me."

"Sam, you literally dragged me out to your car," I pointed out.

"I told you-- we need to talk."

"Then talk."

He shifted his weight nervously, but his eyes looked resigned to whatever terrible fate was apparently coming. They pleaded me some more, and I got the sense that whatever was going on, I was stuck in the middle of it. Whether I wanted it or not. "Not here. Please just get in."

I continued to stare at him. All of the strangeness of the day flooded back into my mind. The strange feelings, his anxiety, the hurricane-like bath... The tension turned the air electric.

"Sam," I whispered, shattering the silence. I was too overwhelmed. Sam was someone I had come to trust, so how could he have sprung such weirdness on me? All I wanted was to be normal. Why did he have to do this to me? "What's going on?"

He dramatically motioned to the front seat, and I finally gave in and got inside. I jumped maybe a foot in the air when he slammed the door behind me then hopped into the driver's side. He jammed the keys into the ignition, threw it in gear, and sped out of the parking lot.

I had to grab my seat to steady myself and not topple over when he took a turn too fast. "Whoa," I muttered. Sam took notice, and slowed down a bit. But only a bit.

"Sam?" I finally asked as we sped through the dark. He glanced over at me in response. "Where are we going?"

"To my house."

"But I thought you said—"

"Things have changed now."

We remained silent for the rest of the drive.

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(Are you ready for the truth? It's coming up next!)