Take One

Chapter 4

I was trapped inside the wall. It was too dark and cramped to make sense of anything, but I'd been in this nightmare before. Last time, I got out. Right before the monster hacked me to death with a rusty fire poker, I was able to see the peeling floral wallpaper that held me captive.

Holding my fingers close to my face, I was able to see the state of my nails. I'd already tried to claw my way out. That never worked. As much as I tried to remain calm, the prolonged darkness still pulled me into a panic. No dream was the exact replica of a previous one; there was no preparing for death here.

I took a calming breath and felt around the floor for anything useful. In all my nightmares, there was never one where I lived; but I always tried to escape. I could never bring myself to just sit still and wait for death.

There was a box cutter on the ground. I felt it enough to be sure what it was. They were feeling nice today. I pushed the blade up and aimed it at the wall.

Wailing cut through the illusion; jerking me awake. I was already upright; sweaty and out of breath. My gaze followed the sound coming from the window. It was a police patrol siren; occasionally outdoor noises were loud enough to save me.

A pinching feeling on my leg called my attention. I stared in horror at my hands, clasped around a box cutter. The tip of the blade had barely grazed the skin on my thigh. Every appendage in my body numbed. With shaking hands, I moved the cutter away from my leg and retracted the blade. Getting out of the wall wouldn't have been a pretty picture.

For a moment, as I turned on all the lights in the house in record speed, only fear existed. The panic kept me from breaking down. The effectivity of the incense was short-lived. I put everything I had into wishing it would work for longer. It took them a few short days to take down my only defense. I was helpless again; back where I started.

Running out of air in the house, it seemed like a good idea to go out the backyard at four-thirty in the morning. It was how I found myself hanging from my knees, upside down a metal frame dad had constructed. The blood rushing to my head shoved the fear aside.

"I always wondered who had a need for an entire parkour course at home." Archer poked his head from behind a row of dead grape vines; one of dad's failed attempts at a hobby outside movie making. The sound of his voice almost made me fall. "Hello," he grinned; walking over. "I haven't seen you in a few days. What have you been up to?"

Crying. Fighting demons. Losing to demons. "Oh you know, just binge watching."

Archer was sporting a navy shirt and black jeans that fit him well. His hair was down; making him look like he should have been horse riding at a beach somewhere. I opted not to ask why he was all dressed up this early in the morning. I had a feeling the answer would just embarrass us both. Besides, his late night activities were his business.

He stopped in front of me; squatting down to be at my eye level. "I was waiting." There was a small smile across his lips.

His watercolor green eyes wandered all over my face; making me tense. "I can't tell if you're getting creepier or it's just the morning air." I shooed him away. After he scooted backwards, I reached for the bar; pulling myself up.

I hit the ground with a thud. Parkour wasn't as easy as it used to be, but I needed to feel something other than fear.

"What happened to your leg?" Archer eyed the band aid on my thigh.

"I poked it with a box cutter." I said in a singsong voice; it was too early to refine excuses.

"On purpose?"