Samantha Emerson | The Lost Boys

You Okay Sam?

Chapter 8

Sam’s Pov

Why hadn’t mom or grandpa barged in, did they not hear the screaming?  Ugh, that doesn’t matter now anyway.  My eyes wouldn’t shut, though I desperately wished for sleep.  Michael might come back and finish me off now.  So here I lay on the rigid floorboards of my room, now 10:00 in the morning.  How the heck am I going to stay alive now?  Can I not turn to anybody, and end up digging my own grave?  Sure doesn’t sound like the smart thing to do.  But honestly, is there no one who I can trust?  Wait, that’s it!  The Frog brothers, they will know how to help.

Slowly and carefully I made it out of my locked up bedroom.  I heard snoring and turning I saw Mike’s door closed; he’s home, well at least he’s asleep.  Descending down the stairs, I surprisingly didn’t hear a sound in the house. This will work.  Walking to the door, I was determined to make my way to their shop.  How do I explain this?  They will just end up killing my brother…my brother?  Doesn’t sound right anymore.  Pulling the bike from the side of the house I saw grandpa working out in the back, lots of wood piles scattered around.  Inching my way to the road, my heart suddenly got caught in my throat.

“Hey Sam, where you off to?” Grandpa asked.

“To the boardwalk…”  I answered quickly.

“Is everything alright Sammy?”

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine…I just want to, to go down and see some friends.” He seemed to be deep in thought.

“Okay then, just be careful.” He smiled. 

I pedaled quickly, and eventually the boardwalk came into view.  The ride seemed short, mainly because of thinking what would happen once I saw the guys.  The comic shop wasn’t far off, so I parked the bike.  Standing up, I fell back onto the ground.  The pain in my ribs was unbearable.  Stupid Michael…  There was a giant purple bruise from where the pain was coming from.  This is just great.  Tears started to prick up in my eyes, by I pushed it aside, and slowly stood up.  I had to trudge to the shop, making sure I wouldn’t fall back down again.  Earning some very odd looks from the people on the boardwalk, I walked into the shop.

“Edgar, Alan?” I asked.  Looking around, the store was empty.  Well this is just great.  Turning back to the door, I heard a box fall, and people arguing.  Edgar dropped a big box of comics and was cursing under his breath while Alan was trying to get past quickly.  Walking over to them, I slowly bent down to help out.  My side hurt, but oh well.

“Alan, I told you I don’t need any-!” Edgar looked up.  “Oh…hey there.  I don’t need any help Sam.”  I ignored him and continued to pick up the comics, placing them in the box.  Once finished, Edgar murmured a ‘thank you’.

Alan came out of a back room and quickly came over to us.

“Oh, hi Sam.  What are you doing here?”  He asked, a slight smile evident on his face.

“Um, I need your help guys…” I said, brushing hair out of my face.  They didn’t say anything, not a word.  They seemed to be in a different world.  “What?” I asked.

“What the heck happened to your face?” Alan questioned.

“What do you mean?”  He brushed one hand over my right cheek, and I pulled away.  It hurt, really badly.  “Oh…” I said.  That’s where Michael struck.  Ouch! 

“Yeah, what happened?” Edgar said, slight confusion lacing his features.

“My brother…”

“What did he do?!?” Alan snapped, worry and anger clearly visible in his tone.

“He got angry…his eyes turned red-ish…he, he smacked me…and I ended up with a kick to the ribs too.” the tears were flowing and wouldn’t stop.  I clutched my rib, it hurt even more now.

“Get her to the back.” Edgar whispered, new customers coming into the shop.  Alan took my hand in his, and led me into a small room with a couch, a sink, and a small refrigerator.  I slowly sat down.  Alan seemed pretty upset.

“When did this happen?” he asked quietly.

“Th-this morning.”  We were pretty quiet after that, until Edgar came back, ice pack in hand.  He tossed it over, and I put it over my cheek.

“We need to take action, or you’re going to end up worse than this.” He said in his low tone.  I stayed silent, Mike’s not worth fighting for anymore.

“But for now,” Alan added “you look exhausted.  Go get some sleep.  We’ll wake you up and get you home before sundown.  Your brother is most likely to wake up once the sun is gone.” I only nodded before the darkness crept over.

Everything was quiet, not a sound.  The house was dark and the only light was from the moon that shown through the windows.  The front door burst open, Michael standing still, with a look on his face that could kill.  He inched forward, and I back, until I was against the wall.  Crap, where can I go now.  Soon there was another person…the man with the eyes of a monster.  Michael began laughing, so did the stranger. “Now, become part of the family.” The older man smiled.  Michael advanced, everything going black.

 My eyes popped open, heart beating frantically.  No, not again.  The room I was in was barely lit and I made my way to the front of the store.  On the front clock, it read 3:46.  Time to get going.  Edgar and Alan were helping out a couple of kids, no older than 10. 

“Hey guys” they turned around “I’m heading back.” Edgar nodded and Alan said

“Try to stay safe.” Slight worry in his voice.

I was off, and made my way home an hour before sun-down.  Grandpa was inside drinking a root beer at the kitchen table.

“Have fun?” he asked.  In return I nodded and grabbed an apple.  After finishing, I made my way up the stairs, to my room.  Just as I was about to open the door, I heard another open.  Turning I saw Mike standing in his doorway.

“Sammy-” he started.  I quickly opened the door and rushed in.  After locking it, I walked over to my sketchbook.  I looked at the picture of the patches, sighing.  Marko, I sure hope you know what’s out there; don’t want to see you end up on a missing poster.  I heard a motorcycle engine, and making it over to the window, I saw Michael leaving.  The coast is clear.  Finally I found time for a well deserved bath.  After wading for an hour I hopped out and made my way down the stairs.  Mom was sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in her hands.

“Aren’t you home a bit early?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah.  Slow day.” I nodded and made my way back to my room.  Falling asleep was hard, hoping for no unwanted dreams.