Faetality |✓|

Chapter Sixteen, Part One - Letting Go

Chapter Sixteen

Letting Go

The commencement of Fall Fest was only a few short hours into the near future, and with so little sleep beneath our belts, I knew that Margot and I would need Ambrosia if we planned on surviving the day. So after a quick pit-stop to the kitchen for a taste of the golden refreshment that could not only cure eye bags but sleep deprivation and bad breath, Margot and I began to tip-toe our way up the stairs. Dad would be awake any minute and most likely he would've balked at the idea of his two daughters spending an entire night gabbing on a cold porch like a couple of live young, die hard teenagers.

            "I'm gonna go take a shower," I said in a hushed as we reached the third floor landing. "Kat Foster is picking me up in a couple of hours to help set up for Fall Fest, so if you need a ride I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you come with us." I knew the volleyball players had also gotten roped into becoming volunteers, and though Margot loathed undertaking school functions, she hated the idea of missing out on captainship one day just for being a wallflower.

            But Margie shook her head with a grin.

            "Actually, Liam's helping out with the cotton candy booth so he offered to give me a ride. And then we're gonna watch the game together."

            "Oooh, exciting," I replied with a final grin and a wave as I headed for my bedroom door.

            "Hey, Tamsyn?" Margie called in a half-whispered, causing me to stop and turn once more. "Lookit. Dad never leaves his door open. None of us do."

            My eyes wandered to the far end of the hallway and I realized that Margot was right. Dad's door was cracked open, with no light to be seen.

            Carefully, quietly, I crept towards his bedroom door and poked my head inside. At first glance, nothing seemed out of order, but the more I looked, the more I recognized that there was still an offness to the room.

"Dad's not here," I said pulling back and addressing Margot in a normal tone. "His bed's still made and his keys are gone. Looks like I wasn't the only one who snuck out last night."

            "Seriously? I thought he just parked in the garage for once. Great. He's with Erica isn't he?"

            Heartily disappointed, but much more afraid, I said nothing. It wouldn't do to get upset in front of Margie.

            "D'you think she'll hurt him?" she asked in a tight, fearful voice.

            "No," I said with sharp decisiveness. "If she was gonna hurt him she would've done it by now.  I think Dad's her leverage – he's her reason for being able to come around. She won't be so quick to give that up. Not yet anyway." Making a quick decision, I pushed the door open wide and strode into the room, skirting the big, four poster bed and heading straight for the closet.

            "What're you doing?" Margot asked, leaning hesitantly against the doorframe, as if Dad would do something crazy like pop his head from underneath the bed or jump out of his bathroom to surprise us at any moment.

            "Looking for the video recording of Mom's attack. If we're gonna watch it we should do it now, while Dad's away. " I replied, poking around a couple of boxes that sat on a shelf. "Well, shit," I said after a few moments, exiting the closet empty-handed.

            "It's gone," I said with a sigh. "He moved it."

            "Check in there," Margot replied, pointing her chin towards the TV stand that hung on the wall opposite the bed. Feeling hopeful I crossed the room again, immediately noticing a familiar, white envelope. It sat on the corner of the DVD player, as if Dad had recently watched it.

            "Ready?" I asked, as Margie joined me by my side.

            "Definitely not,"

Biting my lip I picked up the tv remote and clicked on the television. The DVD loaded and all I had left was to push the play button.

So I did.

*  *  *

            On the screen was displayed the grey and white image of a dimly lit corridor. From the positioning of the image, I could tell that the camera was probably positioned high in some corner where the wall met the ceiling. Down this strip was a series of closed doorways that each held one small square of window cut from safety glass. In the distance you could hear the random, muffled calls from patients that were not in view. But for the most part, there was currently no movement to be seen within the hallway.

"I thought he said this was a tape," Margot said, peering intently at the screen.

            "Dad's, like, from the Stone Ages, Margie," I replied, eyes glued to the screen as well. "Ask him and he'll probably say the world is flat too – hey, look at that."

            "False alarm," Margie replied after a seconds when we both realized the man who had strolled into the camera's view was only an orderly. True, she was jiggling the knob of every door and peering quickly through the window of every door she passed, but clearly this was only procedure.

            "I don't think so. See that right there?"

            Margie squinted, following my finger to the far corner of the screen. In an obscure, shadowy patch of hallway, a figure stirred from the darkness. My sister gasped as the form stepped further into the light. Facing in our direction, it began to creep along in a slow, cautious manner down the hallway. It was dressed in dark clothing – boots, jeans, gloves, and a jacket with the hood drawn up. The stranger turned its head full-on in the direction of the camera, and I realized that our Dad had only been half-right. It was true that you couldn't see the stranger's face – it was hidden by a blur. But that blur wasn't caused by a malfunction within the camera. The blur was completely intentional.

It moved against the wall, with the slow, purposeful agility of an animal. I shivered, suddenly reminded of a predator and its prey. Internally, I reminded myself that no matter what I saw, no matter what I heard, the attack was over and my mother had survived.

But even so, my heart dropped as we witnessed the intruder stopping just short of one door in particular. One that I knew belonged to our mother. It slipped a hand inside its pocket and withdrew something small, square and white – a key card.

"I-I don't think I can watch this!" Margot suddenly announced, looking ill. Turning her back on the screen, she screwed her eyes shut. "Tell me when it's over." To top it off she stuck her fingers in her ears and began to hum loudly.

            Feeling envious, I turned back to the screen just in time to see the intruder slip inside the room. Several seconds passed before a bright flash of light was expelled from the door, briefly illuminating the hallway in a greyish light.

I jumped when a thin, high scream cut the air.

"Conscientiam ejectus!" roared a second voice, followed by silence. The stranger flew through the doorway like a bat out of hell, flying up the hall as three orderlies came charging into view from the opposite direction. Shaking, I raised the remote and clicked the stop button. I had seen enough.

I touched Margot's arm, re-drawing her attention.

"It's over," I said, feeling lost and angry.

"So... what happened?"

"One of them got hurt and one of them cast a spell. You can't tell which by the sound of their voices but..."

"You think Mom was the one that got hurt," Margie dully replied.

 There was no need for answer.

"Ok, so, is it enough proof?" Margie asked.

I shook my head.