Don't Go In Alone

SUNDAY DECEMBER 15

I've somehow managed to get roped into babysitting Zach and his friend, Tanner, for the night. Mom's working late again, so I would have had to stay in with Zach regardless, but Tanner is here so his parents can go out for an adult dinner for once instead of going somewhere that has chicken nuggets on the menu.

It's not so bad watching them. They keep each other entertained fairly easily and I've only had to go make sure one of them wasn't dead once, so that's a plus. I spend a few hours away from them working on homework, but once it starts to get dark outside, I head upstairs to hang out in the rec room with them while they watch their cartoons and play with their toys.

Tanner's a little odd. I mean, all kids are a little odd because who knows what goes on in their heads, but Tanner is a little odd in the way that he'll probably be one of those people who carry around tape recorders to see if they can catch ghosts talking on them. He's a sweet kid, really. But when he looks at you, with those child's eyes that are just a little too big for his face, it's like he's staring straight into your soul.

And he says weird stuff to me whenever he's over here. He's like the poster child for those stories about little kids saying things that are so creepy it's borderline concerning. Most of the time, the things he says are completely offhand and don't make much sense because I don't know what he's talking about.

Tonight is different though.

Tonight, he looks at me when I sit down on the couch after putting on a movie for him and Zach and says, "Oh, you brought a friend. There's no room for him on the couch so he's gonna have to sit on the floor."

"What makes you say I've brought a friend, Tanner?"

He settles himself into the cushions, next to Zach who has placed his stuffed toys on the free space on the couch so there isn't any room available even if someone else was here. He tells me, with a sigh like it's such a hardship to have to explain himself, "He's been following you around all day. He's the biggest dark man I've ever seen."

My heart stops. I swear. The blood in my veins freezes and I can actually feel my face going pale. "Tanner, is the dark man in the room right now?"

"Yeah, he's right there." He points towards the hallway, where the light is turned off and there's nothing visible but the shadow of the walls. "But he's too big to fit on the couch with us so tell him he has to sit on the floor."

I try not to let it get to me. Tanner says creepy stuff all the time. Kids make up stories all the time about seeing things that aren't there. Besides, there's nothing in the hallway except the dark. It's a coincidence, albeit a chilling one, that he's talking about a shadow person and I keep seeing a shadow. It doesn't mean anything, because I know that the person I keep seeing is Carson and there's no way he's standing in my hallway right now.

I know he isn't, so there's no reason for why I stand up and go to turn the hall light on.

~~~

Tanner's parents come pick him up around nine and I have to carry him downstairs because him and Zach had both passed out on the floor in the rec room about half an hour ago. They get in their car and leave and I stay standing out on the porch for a few minutes, looking to see if my silhouetted stalker is hanging around tonight. The lawn is empty. There's nobody standing around by Carson's either.

I lock the door and head back upstairs to put Zach to bed. He clings to my neck when I try to put him in his bed, his fingers sticky from who knows what.

"Come on, Zachy. You've got to lie down now."

"No. I wanna sleep in Mo-Mo's bed."

I take a moment to pet the hair on the back of his head before hauling him back up on my hip. "Fine, but you need to wash your hands first."

~~~

My dream is a little different tonight. It starts the same, but when I get to the second floor and the figure is standing in the hallway behind me, when I turn around he emerges from the shadows completely. It's Carson. It makes sense that it's him standing there with that grin on his face and those dimples indenting his cheeks.

When he says my name, it sends a chill down my spine. I try to ask him why he's here, why he's messing with me, but nothing comes out and instead I'm stepping into his space, going up on my toes so I can press my lips to the edge of his mouth.

I don't know why I do it. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, at war with each other. Because he's probably the one making me absolutely crazy lately by freaking me out for no reason, but he's also the guy who I've probably liked for at least a year now and we're alone and I can't stand the tension between us anymore.

It's too bad this is all just a dream.

He kisses me and his fingers are in my hair, his body pressing and pressing and pressing against mine until I'm backed against the bannister and the air is leaving my lungs. I'm going to suffocate in this kiss. I don't dare try to break it.

I'm only vaguely aware of the fact that I'm in my pajamas and barefoot again. I can't really feel my toes, or the moldy wood beneath them, but the thought is so far in the back of my mind right now.

Carson slips his hands down to my neck, his thumbs settling down over my pulse points. I'm left with the most vulnerable feeling. If he presses down, he could easily stop my breathing. But he doesn't. He takes the air straight from my mouth instead and replaces it with his tongue.

My knees go weak.

I grab onto him. Cling to him as he smothers me with his kiss. It's the best feeling in the world. But then I remember that I'm supposed to be mad at him, I'm supposed to be asking him what the hell he's been doing following me around lately.

The words never come though.

He breaks the kiss, swipes his tongue over my bottom lip quickly before retreating into the shadows again. I sag against the bannister, chest heaving and legs numb.

"M—"

Why am I in the Victorian again?

"Mo—"

I was in bed, right? Is this still a dream or did I sleepwalk out here again? Was Carson really here too? Or was that strictly the dream? Something tugs at my pant leg.

"Mo!"

A haze seems to lift from my vision. I blink a few times to gain my bearings. I'm standing in the middle of my room. Zach is staring up at me, his eyes watery, his fingers clutching at my pajama bottoms.

"Mo-Mo? Are you awake?"

"Zachy?" I blink down at him, look around again to make sure I'm actually standing in my room. The bottom of my pant legs are soaked. My feet are numb from the cold. My skin's covered in goosebumps.

"You're scaring me. You wouldn't talk to me." A tear slips down his cheek.

I bury my fingers in his hair, pull him closer to my hip so he can hug my legs. "Shh, I'm sorry, bud. I must have been sleepwalking." I lean down to lift him up, his face going to the crook of my neck. "It's fine, everything is okay. Don't be scared." I set him on the bed and go to find a dry pair of pants to sleep in.

After I change, I climb back into bed and let Zach crawl over so he's tucked against me, his head under my chin and his hands fisting against my shirt. I rub his back gently, whisper to him until he goes back to sleep.

I don't go back to sleep though. I can't.

Instead, I stare at the shadows on the wall and think about how I'll never know if Carson was really there or if it was just a dream.