Playing With Fire

Chapter Thirty-Five

                                         Recap

          Travis hits the keypad and the screen pauses. Frantically, I lean forward, inching my head closer towards the screen is if to help myself get a better view.

              There is something familiar.

             I look back at Travis in hopes that he can help me, but he himself has no clue.

             “Do you recognize anything?” I ask nonetheless.

            He pushes closer as well but eventually folds his lips towards his mouth.

            Shaking his head, he mumbles in defeat, “No.”

            I sigh, “It’s fine, just resume it. Maybe I will remember.”

           He rolls the tapes and I focus my sole attention on the current figure. The outline approaches the camera, inching closer and closer. And the closer it gets, the more I realize that the moves are intentional.

           “Turn around…” I growl in agitation, gripping the blanket as a direct outlet.

            Surely, the figure whirls around.

         My heart flips, my breath turns heavy and I get increasingly eager to identify the suspect. Only, the instant the outline turns, the cameras turn black.

           I jerk back, my eyes wide in panic.

          First the one at the top left corner, then the top middle, then the top right…soon enough, all the screens are screetchy and black.

           “Dammit!” Travis grunts, slamming the laptop shut.

          I groan at the same time and throw my head back against the couch.

           “Dammit.” I repeat in a much softer, underlying tone.

         With my heart still racing a mile a minute, I mentally churn over the one thought that repeats through my head—that as I was watching, I felt something strange—a prickling sensation. Not because I was witnessing a break in into my house, but because while looking for answers through these evidently accessible tapes, I only stumbled across more questions.

             What was I so close to uncovering? 

                                       Chapter Thirty Five 

          The night before, we had fallen asleep drowned in our own sorrows and frustrations. No matter how many times we repeated the tapes, there was not enough time to figure out what was going on and who it was. 

           So, when I wake up in the morning, the laptop tucked under my right shoulder and my head resting on Travis’s rising chest, I nearly have a panic attack. Subtly, I attempt to wane myself away from his body heat and grip. Though, it is extremely hard, considering one of his arms is laced with my own.

              I untangle myself, trying not to fall flat on my face in honor of my morning status. When I’m finally able to set his arm off to the side, I shift my weight and land my feet on the wooden floor below. With the slightest touch, I manage to gently release the pressure off of him as if it were never there. I stand up, slightly proud of my accomplishment, and then place the laptop on where I was sitting last night—right next to his feet but tucked against the couch so that it won’t fall.

               I take one final glance at Travis, observing the peace and vacancy on his unaware features, before spinning on my heel and tiptoeing up the steps towards the guest room.