Our parents return, but even when they do, the house is quiet except for my music. I can’t believe how long I’ve been able to keep this up. By the time I smell dinner, the joints of my fingers feel as if they’re about to crack and my fingertips burn with wear. I still feel stronger though. It’s as if every hour I play music the fiend’s grip weakens.
Will I be able to keep this up tomorrow? No, tomorrow I should be even stronger. I should paint my nails, bleach my hair, and try to be normal. I’ll look like a normal happy teenager ready to conquer the universe when I arrive in Michigan. Shana would want me to.
A smile crosses my lips as I head downstairs for dinner, which is very quiet today. There’s a lot to talk about, but no one is really up to it. Bubbe and I have already said what we need to say, and I can sense mixed feelings about my actions coming from my parents. For one, they are horrified that I would venture off into the woods when there’s a kidnapper on the loose, and yet I found Shana. I did something that all of the policemen and volunteers couldn’t. I feel like I’ve downed at least three pounds of the spaghetti Mom has made before finally, she speaks up.
“The next flight isn’t until nine P.M tomorrow so you’ll be arriving in Michigan pretty late.”
I’ve got more than twenty-four hours to wait before we get to safety? That blows. I guess maybe I’ll try to sleep in. I wonder if Prozac will make me sleepy.
“Not planning on running off tonight are you?” she asks, half-jokingly.
I shake my head.
“Of course not,” but I’m dead serious. The monster is probably waiting until I fall asleep so he can suck me back into his world. He’ll probably try to lure me out with Shana or Lionel or something, but I won’t let him. No, from now until nine tomorrow night I don’t plan on setting foot out of this house. I don’t care if he sits on the bed next to me.
After dinner I help clean up, bathe, and then get into some pajamas. It’s been a restless day and I’m ready to turn in early, but I decide I will hold off another hour by cleaning my room a bit. I put all of the clothes strewn about the floor in the laundry bag. Mom will be horrified, but hopefully I won’t be here to hear her when she sees it.
I throw CD’s, books, and all of my scattered objects in places where they belong, just with no particular order. Oh well, I don’t think I’ll need to dig around for any of these CD’s anytime soon since every one of these songs are already on my computer and mp3 player. Cleaning up is really helping to keep my mind off of Shana’s death. It’s going to be sad though, because unless they find some miraculous reason for me to return in time, I’m going to miss Shana’s funeral. Me! Her best friend!
It’s only when I’m finally done distracting myself that I fully take in the thought that even though I’ve saved her, I still miss her, and I’m always going to. Would it be worth it for me to come back for her funeral? Surely the Hawthorns will invite me? I shake off the thought. Now is not the time. Just before I climb in bed I am greeted by a loud static wave that almost knocks me over. “What was that?” I ask aloud.
I can hear a steady flow of static erupting around the room. What’s he planning? My heart sinks. No, no he’s just trying to scare me. I carry on as if nothing happens, except I don’t turn off my light. He seems stronger, I think to myself. He probably is going to try and lure me out tonight, and if that wave is any indication of his persistence, it probably means I’ll have to deal with terrifying images that will be hard to ignore. I won’t let him lure me, no matter what.
I pop two Prozac tablets into my mouth before lying down. I’m not sure what the proper dosage is for these pills. I think I remember seeing both one and two on the bottle. Maybe it’s one during the day, two at night, or was it one tablet, twice a day, not to exceed two tablets in twelve hours? I’ll live either way. I pull the blanket over my head to block out the light and slowly, but surely, I drift off.
I dream for a little while before waking up. I listen for the static, but it’s not present. Huh, I think. Maybe I should get up and check? No, I try and go back to sleep, but that seems to be out of the question. As if waiting for me, I feel the static slowly creep on me and impulsively try to jump up before realizing that I can’t move. The paralysis again, it’s going to try and pull me into the realm. I don’t feel the energy to fight it, but if I don’t resist, then I will be sucked in and have to run out of his domain.
I hear a scream in the distance. It sounds like- it’s Adam. I hear Adam screaming. It’s not the same painful, ear-stabbing scream the Shana gave me when the fiend had her in the first nightmare; it’s the sound of horrified surprise, like something is jumping out at him. He continues yelling and then I hear him.
“Help! Mom, Dad! Alyssa!” he screams. I feel the static grip tighten. No! I should have gotten up. He’s going to get Adam. Wait a second, this is his trick. He’s trying to weaken me by impersonating Adam. It’s what he did to Shana, Jason, and probably the others. This won’t work on me. I try and laugh, and although my voice is blocked by his grip, I can still exhale in rhythm. ‘This won’t work on me. I know what you’re trying to do,’ I mouth while thinking it, hoping he understands what I’m saying.
“Help! Please!” Adam drags on, but I just laugh. I’m not falling for it. I prepared for this. I even took my medicine to help. Adam’s screams are so real, but as I laugh at them, they get farther and farther away, and the fiend’s grip weakens. I’ve beaten you! I think triumphantly.
No, I can say it now. Its grip is weak!
“I’ve beaten you. Na na-na na-na-na, you lose,” I mumble childishly. When his presence fully disperses, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. A few hours later, I wake up. I feel like the medicine has worn off and feel a sour taste in my mouth.
“Forgot to brush,” I mumble.
I climb out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It’s pretty early, but I figure I will go back to sleep for another six hours or so. As I brush my teeth I remember my little run-in with the entity earlier. I don’t feel amused this time. Maybe I’m too groggy for it, but I decide I’ll check in on Adam before I go back to bed. I rinse and then head over to Adam’s room.
His window is open and so it’s freezing in here, but it’s almost always open so that’s not what catches my attention. On the floor is the sling for Adam’s cast. I don’t see him dropping it by himself, and then not picking it back up. His bed is empty. Did it really get him?
“Adam!” I shout. There’s no way. “Adam!” I scream.
“Adam!”
18: The Message
No matter what I do, that monster- he’s always one step ahead of me. I finally thought I had him figured out. We just had to get through one more night and day, and I was ready to handle it, but he saw right through me. He has his own stage set up, and I have no say in what happens. In the middle of the night, when I thought he was trying to lure me out, he wasn’t. He just wanted me to listen while he hurt and kidnapped my brother. He wanted me to try and get up and come to his aid, only to be held back. He got Adam, and he made me listen to it. Maybe I would have figured that out if I wasn’t on the medication.