Whispers in the Dark (Being Rewritten)

Chapter 10

10

When I woke up again I had to force myself to remember what my room looked like to make sure I wasn't in some creeps' room. I was. In my room, I mean. Not in a creeps room. Heh.

I sat up and was overcome with such a pain that it forced me right back down. So it hadn't been a horrible nightmare. It was real. The scrapes on my back from being dragged and bloody gauze wrapped around my shoulder and taped to my chest proved it. In too much pain to do much else I decided to just lie there and wait until the pain dimmed.

After half an hour of excruciating silence I slowly and carefully sat up and climbed out of my floor bed. I shuffled my way through the hall and the downstairs. Oh, God, my body was in so much freaking agony I felt as if I had just been shoved in a blender set on pulse. I took a couple of pain killers and sat down for a while. Like hell I was going to school today. I'd die from all the pain from running up the millions of stairs. There was also a likely possibility that I'd run into Skank Queen Chelsea. Not to mention the bite that psycho kid gave me would bleed everywhere. No need to ruin three pairs of clothing in one semester, right?

Sitting there at the dining table I soon became aware of just how alone I was in the house and how everything seemed so quiet all of a sudden. I had the nudging feeling that I should check all the cabinets and rooms for fear the boy might have followed me home and was waiting for the right time to attack. At that moment I thought I had never been more terrified of a grade schooler in all my life.

Wait- How had I even gotten home last night? How had the big Irish man known where I lived? I was sure I'd never seen him before in my life. Wrapping my arms around my body a new wave of anxiety spread beneath my skin and I shivered.

Somehow my home didn't feel as safe as it once did.

The ache in my shoulder pulled me back out of my paranoia and fear and I decided to check it out. With some effort I climbed out of my seat and walked to the nearest bathroom. I carefully pulled the collar of my bloody shirt down enough so that the bite was exposed. Or at least it would have been if it hadn't been bandaged up. The thick gauze was bloody and would no doubt need to be changed soon. I pulled my collar down lower and saw that the gash Susan had left below my collar bone was also bandaged. Not as heavily but there was a nice thick piece of folded gauze taped over it. That too was a bloody mess.

Last night had been a nightmare, and if I hadn't had the wounds to prove it was real I would've believed I had just dreamed it all. I had lost so much blood last night that even standing in the bathroom staring into the mirror made me feel woozy and sick. The smartest thing I could do right now was get some food and fluids into my system, ASAP. However, I didn't want to bother expending anymore strength to cook myself something, my entire body felt weak, shaky and frail. Honestly I doubted I could even hold a gallon of juice properly.

Checking my pockets, I found my phone safely tucked inside, unscathed from last night's events. For a moment I just stared down at it. My mind screamed at me to call the police, get officer Daimion and his prissy-pants partner back down here and tell them everything that happened last night. It was the right thing to do. It was the logical thing to do. But no matter how hard I willed my fingers to dial in the three-digit number I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I could just imagine the strange looks they'd give me, the questioned they'd ask. None of which being about the cannibalistic psychos from last night and all of which having to do with my personal life. They were gonna think I was insane or on drugs. They'd never believe me! Not in a million years. Hell, if I hadn't had gone through it myself I wouldn't even believe me.

I can't tell anybody, I finally decided. Everything that happened last night would have to be my secret and my secret alone. I would have no one to talk to about what happened to me, about how I nearly died and watched a girl as she burned alive. Just the thought of how alone I'd be with my own fear and trauma made my stomach twist in depression and anxiety.

My stomach rumbled and I forced the bad thoughts away, locking them deep in the back of my mind where I could hopefully forget about them. I walked back out of the bathroom, got comfortable on the couch and went to work googling a place where I could order food to go. After a bit of debate I decided on Asian. You could eat it anytime of day and not be judged. Just envied.

Twenty-five minutes later the doorbell rang. Shoving myself back off the couch –a stupid and painful thing to do- I opened the door and froze, coming face to face with a pair of steely grey eyes and dark red hair. As lips twisted into a charming smile I could hear Susan's mocking laugh, the lilt of her voice as she promised my suffering and ultimately my death.

I opened my mouth, ready to scream.

"Orange chicken, Sweet-fire chicken, Beijing beef, with a side of Chow Mein, one large order of cheese rangoons, a small order of eggrolls, and a large pomegranate lemonade," the boy recited as he listed off the order from the receipt stapled to the plastic bag he carried in his arms, a large foam cup balanced beneath his chin. "That'll be eighteen seventy-two."

I quickly shut my gaping mouth and returned the boy's polite smile before gesturing for him to come inside and set the food down on the table while I grabbed my wallet. With a quick (if not slightly awkward) thanks I handed him a twenty, tipping him an extra five dollars -which he excitedly took- and sent him on his merry way. After I closed the door behind him I had to take a moment to calm my jumping nerves and steady the pounding in my chest.

Apparently it wouldn't be as easy as I hoped it would to forget the event of last night.

I made my way back to the table and checking the time and saw that I had surpassed my sleep-in time by a couple of hours. I usually woke up at nine or ten on weekends but I broke that record by a good three hours. Of course I did wake up in the middle of the night and get attacked so I can say I deserved it. It was about twelve-seventeen pm, the classes should be letting out for fourth period lunch soon.

After checking the house I decided that my mom was already at work. Despite everything that happened within the last twelve hours, I grinned. Mom was bound to have a killer hang over after drinking so much last night and she deserved it. It was her fault for getting so smashed.

I walked over to the laundry room, careful not to jostle my wound and slowly changed into a pair of jeans and my most comfy sweatshirt. After grabbing my food I plopped myself down on the couch and flipped on the TV. I sat there, munching on sauced meat and watching Steven Universe as I pondered over what really had happened last night. Obviously I had been attacked -I had the bite to prove it and my legs were still shaking from lack of blood and sugar. Then I had been saved. By who? I had no idea. But I was certain about one thing. I was grateful to be alive.

I took a swig of my lemonade and shoved my face full of Beijing beef as another thought hit me. It just so happened that I was attacked the same night that creeper broke into my house. Complete coincidence, right? I think not. Whoever that guy was I was determined to find out, I had the Day Lightens Police department behind me checking in on that. There was no way all that was just pure chance, right?

Digging into the plastic bag I fished out my fortune cookie and cracked it open, slipping the small strip of paper out of it's sweet tomb. On it, I read the words: "It is not wise to underestimate your opponent".

Yeah. Definitely not a coincidence.

____________

I sat on my floor-bed staring out the window that night. There was no rain, though the thick clouds hanging over head didn't look very promising. I had tried watching TV, or reading a book to pass the time before Mom came home but no matter what I did I just couldn't relax.

Lying back against mypillows, I stared up at the ceiling, grimacing at the pain radiating through myshoulder and my chest. At this rate I'd never forget about what happened lastnight. As if I could forget even withoutthe pain, I mused. I was sure that night would stick with me for the restof my life. I supposed that was why people called it trauma.