The Little Town of Lillston

The Walking-Legs

"Bryce, sweetie, you have to eat something," said his mother, setting down a plate of grilled cheese next to him.

Bryson didn't say anything. He was afraid if he'd open his mouth, he'd end up vomiting. After his trauma in the bathroom stall of the school, Bryson had gone home, but not before being held in the Principal's Office waiting for his mother to show up. Luckily, Lillston was a small town, so he didn't have to wait long, and luckily, Principal Kindell didn't question him. In fact, she disappeared after she brought Bryson to her office. She disappeared in the back room of her office and didn't come back out, even when Bryson's mother appeared to take him home. Bryson could care less of why Principal Kindell was ignoring him. She obviously hated him. Bryson was more concerned about the writing on the bathroom stall. Someone had written specific roads of Lillston on the stall, and assigned them to a letter. Bryson didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. His street was listed, assigned to an "a". At least it wasn't assigned to Jack. Bryson felt a bit humiliated about confronting Jack. It had only been his second day at school, and he had accused a kid of breaking into his house.

Bryson's mother placed a hand on his head. "You've got a fever." She frowned, looking at the plate of grilled cheese. "You know, we should have a window up in your room by the end of the week. We've ordered the glass."

Bryson forced a faint smile for the sake of his mother, but she could see right through it.

"I know you're not feeling well... I can run to the doctor's and see if they can give me what they gave your sister," said his mother.

"It's fine," Bryson mumbled. He was lying on the couch in the living room, clutching a blanket to his chest, staring at the blank wall with wires poking through.

"Please eat," she said softly. "I'm going to go check on your brother and sister." She left, entering Hunter and Sophia's bedroom.

Bryson took a slow breath. He didn't want to go back to school. He was feeling more embarrassed each time he replayed all that he had said to Jack. He was also annoyed with Callie. She was making fun of him, saying a guy with a knife visited her house last night. Surely the police would've been at Callie's home if she were serious.

Bryson fell asleep shortly after, dreaming of a clown with a bright red wig as the principal and zombies as students at the school. He didn't appreciate this dream, because he knew it was pointless and made no sense. When he woke, he was relieved.

His relief only lasted a minute, because he realized that it was nighttime. No light poured beneath the front door, and the house was dark. It was still, and there was a heavy quietness that threatened to choke Bryson. He sat up, though he felt a bit drowsy with sleep.

Someone knocked on the front door. It was two crisp, loud knocks that made Bryson jump out of his blanket. He looked to the door, but he could see nothing through its windows. They needed a porch light.

Bryson waited a minute, hoping the knock wouldn't come again. He didn't see any police lights outside. Could it be Jack? No, Bryson thought, Jack didn't break into my house last night. Bryson found that out the hard way. Still, he stood, his legs feeling weak, a cold sweat on his skin. The house had been enveloped in the same heavy silence as before. Bryson didn't realize he was at the door until he was peering through the peephole. There was nothing.

Two crisp knocks sounded again, like the beats of a drum in Bryson's ears. He was looking through the peephole. Nothing was there... unless the darkness was an aid to the monster on the doorstep. There are no monsters around. They don't exist.

Bryson took another breath and laid a hand on the doorknob. If someone in a ski mask was on the other side, he'd shout, and his parents would call the police. He'd be safe.