The Fear Within Me

25

Though I am still stunned, I return to the kitchen. Natalie is busy mixing something with a spoon that seems too big for her, but she must sense my presence because she turns immediately.

"What happened down there?" she asks immediately, worry etched in her petite features.

"Nothing," I say, too fast. She eyes me suspiciously, but turns back to whatever she's mixing without another word. I sprint up to my room, taking the stairs two and three at a time, and close the door quietly behind me. I need a moment to gather my thoughts before I face both of them at dinner.

Instead, I fall into a heap on the inviting bed and close my eyes, tempting sleep to visit me. I am tired enough to; it seems I have been awake for days, even though I overslept the night before. My body feels fine, better than it has in awhile actually. I feel mentally exhausted, a state I never knew how to deal with adequately. Three sharp knocks at the door cause me to whirl around and crouch in a ready position at the head of the bed.

"Dinner's ready," Natalie says, then peeks her head through the door. By the time she's done that, I've climbed off the bed and am straightening my clothes.

"Thanks," I reply, and follow her out without another word. When I get downstairs, I find an elaborate, excessively fancy set-up, including china, polished silver and wine glasses at a large dining room table. Even the napkins are embroidered with what I assume is their last initial.

"What's all this?" my voice gets caught in my throat as it thickens.

"We know you've been through a lot, and we just want you to know there's a place here if you want it," Natalie says, smiling invitingly. She hugs me around the waist, the top of her head coming up very short of my chin. I put one arm around her and return the hug numbly. Tim smiles at me from over his sister's shoulder, and I avert my gaze quickly.

"This is great, guys." The rest sticks heavy in my throat. I can't bear the thought of ruining all their hard work, so I sit down, shut up, and eat the dinner they lay before me. The duration of the meal is spent in silence, and though I feel I should fill it with thanks and gratitude, all I can do is twist my napkin up over and over again trying to decide how to tell them that it was my plan to leave them this very night. After everything had been devoured, I stand to return to my room.

"Wait!" Natalie says, and I stop mid-rise. "I made a cake." She beams with pride. I sigh internally but sit back down in the plush seat. She lays chocolate cake with white icing before me, and though I've never liked chocolate cake, I eat every bit of it. Anything to make her happy.

I watch Tim as he pushes the crumbs around on his plate. "I gotta go." I say it so quietly that I barely heard it myself. Tim sniffs loudly and Natalie sighs.

"I know," she says.

"It' just that I'm pretty sure my brother and mom are still out there," I begin, unable to meet her eyes, "I can't just abandon them."

"You can't do it by yourself," Natalie says, forehead creasing with worry. I offer a smile and hold my hand out for her.

"I'll be okay. Plus, my dad's back in Califor-" I stop abruptly as the memories rush unforgivingly into the forefront of my thought. Try as I might to shake them off, I can't get the image of all the men, lying dead around me, and the red, growing circle in Alex's chest, out of my head. I suddenly feel sick. "I promise I'll be safe," I offer instead. Natalie nods, though I can see she's tearing up.

Stop doing this to me! I want to shout. Stop making me feel obligated to stay! Stop making me want to stay! I feel worse than ever about my decision to leave.

"I'll come back," I tell her, "You have to meet my brother. He's the coolest." I don't know if I said it t make her feel better, or because I really want to. Either way, her face lights up with a smile and my heart lightens at this newfound hope.

I've gathered everything I can think of: food, extra clothes, water, odd weapons that I managed to scrap. But now, I walk around this giant house, the front door eluding me. Or maybe I'm just stalling.

"You're going towards the theater room," Tim says from above me, causing me to jump out of my skin. He must have been there for awhile, because I didn't hear him until he spoke. The knife I carry clatters to the ground and the backpack slips from my shoulders, causing some of the food to spill out.

"God, Tim," I whisper hoarsely. He descends the stairs two at a time, and I can tell by the pep in his step that he's feeling better.

"Sorry," he says with a chuckle, "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"I wasn't scared," I say with a huff.

"Sure you weren't." He tries to stifle a giggle but it slips between his pursed lips, creating an obnoxious cackle. "Stealing my groceries I see."

"Not stealing," I begin, trying to come up with a better word than steal, but draw a blank. "Yeah I guess I was stealing. Not like you guys can't afford it.

"That's not the point. You owe me." I scoff, kneel to pick up the backpack, and hold it out to him. I'm not going to be manipulated into owing him anything. He takes the pack and puts it back on my shoulder. "You need it more than I do." He tries to maintain my gaze, but I look away.

"Thanks."

"Please don't go," he says, and tips my chin slightly upward to meet his gaze. A single tear slips from my eye as I answer.

"I have to. What if it were Natalie out there, all alone? You would go," I say shortly. I let that absorb all my fears and regrets and disappointment as I slip out of Tim's grip. He slips his arms around me awkwardly, and I stand stiffly while he embraces me. When he loosens his grip, I make haste for an exit.