Get Me To A Church

CHAPTER 2: FIRST

           It was nighttime and raining outside. I was sitting in bed. The nightmares I'd been having recently were nothing like I'd experienced before. I was scared to sleep more than I was scared to investigate a cannibal's living space and the unsolved murder mysteries in the apartments. I felt sick from not ever resting.

           My phone buzzed on my dresser. I didn't want to get up — I was in a dark room and it was warm in bed. It kept buzzing til it was on the edge of the dresser.

           "No," I whispered. I jumped out of bed and grabbed it before it fell on the floor and broke. Great. Now I was obligated to acknowledge the person calling me. I flipped my phone open.

           I didn't have a contact for the number. I was going to get back in bed when I remembered I gave Travis my number. Something bad could've happened to him. A storm of bad possibilities rained over my head. Shit. Now I had to answer the call.

           "...it can be difficult to admit it to yourself. I hope you can help him with that," Todd's voice reminded me.

           I answered. "Hello?"

           The caller sniffled. "Is this Sal Fisher?" he asked. It sounded like he was crying.

           "Yeah," I replied. "Is this Travis? Are you okay?"

           "Yes, it's Travis," he grumbled, then let out a sob which was muffled as soon as it escaped, like he put a fist in his mouth. "Listen, I, uh, I don't know what—" his voice broke. "I don't know what to do."

           There was silence after that, other than the soft sniffs and shaky weeping. It was worrying. "Travis," I began, "what's wrong? Start from the beginning."

           There was still silence. I think he was trying to calm himself down so he could make a coherent sentence. "I ran away," he said. I gripped the phone closer to my ear. "My dad was saying something about gay people, and I said some stupid shit, and then— then he called me a f..." It was so crazy to me how he used to call me slurs all the time, and now he couldn't even bring himself to say it.

           "It's okay, Travis, you don't have to say it," I said.

           "I can't go back," he burst out. "He'll really kill me. I don't know what to do!"

           "Travis," I tried to get him to calm down, "do you know where Addison Apartments is?"

           He sniffed again. "Yeah— yeah, next to... to the church."

           "Okay," I said. I stopped for a second. Was I really going to invite Travis into my apartment? He would wake up my dad. Plus, it's Travis. He bullied me for years. Yes, it was the right thing to do. "Can you get there?"

           "I think."

           "Great. I'll meet you in the lobby, alright?" I asked.

           "Okay," he said. "I'll... see you, S-Sal."

           "See you," I said, then hung up the phone. And now to (hopefully) successfully escape from my apartment.

           I slipped my phone in my pajama pants pocket and snuck towards my bedroom door. I grabbed the handle, twisted, and opened without releasing my hand. I carefully tip-toed through my living room and past my dad's room. I heard a quiet meow from behind me and swiveled around. It was my cat, Gizmo. I shushed him and kept creeping towards the front door. He kept following me.

           I turned around again and whispered, "You better not tattle on me."

           He stared at me earnestly with big brown eyes.