One Night at Freddy's

Release

"You're release has been moved up," Dr. Cole stood by my bed with his hands clasped in front of him. "We haven't seen any problems, but, if anything does happen, please notify us."

"Okay. So I'm going home soon?" I was filled with glee.

"Yes. Your mother is here now with a change of clothes for you."

I looked down at myself, just now realizing I was in a hospital robe. "Oh, yeah."

Dr. Cole left the room. My mom entered almost as soon as he left, carrying a bag.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hi," I said curtly.

"You get to come home soon," she smiled.

"Yeah," I didn't feel like talking to her right now.

"Here you go," Mom put the bag on the floor and left, closing the door behind her.

I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the cot I'd grown so accustomed to. I rolled my ankles and smiled to myself. I stood and walked around the cot and picked up the blue plastic tote. I pulled dark jeans and a gray and blue baseball 3/4 sleeve t-shirt out of it. I reached behind my back to undo the tie at the base of my neck. The thin dress fell to the floor and I picked up the baseball shirt and threw it over my head. I pulled my jeans on and fished through the bag for shoes and socks. I found my favorite black socks and memory foam slides. I sat on the bed to put on my socks and sandals. I glanced at the floor on the other side of the bed.

I wondered what to do with the clock there. I stretched across the bed and reached for the clock. My fingertips barely brushed the top of it. I groaned in frustration and sat up. I swung my legs over the other edge of the bed and bent over, reaching for the clock.

"Gotcha!" I said when my fingers latched onto it. "Stupid clock," I tossed the clock onto the pillow. I pushed myself from the bed and grabbed the bag on the way out of my hospital room.

Mom was waiting outside the door, smiling. I glanced at her and turned down the hall.

"Oh, come on, Katrina," Mom hurried after me, "You have to let it go eventually,"

"Let it go?" I asked incredulously and turned around, "You want me let go of the fact that my mom is an addict, and that she steals my money for liqour?"

"Well . . ." her face scrunched up.

"Don't do that," I said and turned around, "Your face'll get stuck like that," I continued down the hall.

I heard Mom's footsteps behind me. When we got to the lobby, she stopped at the front desk and I waited by the doors.

"Let's go," Mom pushed the glass door open. I pushed myself from the wall and followed her through the door.

The cold, winter air bit my skin. I could see my breath puff out of my parted lips like tendrils of smoke. Everything was coated in a thick layer of snow. My feet sank a couple of inches in the snow as I followed Mom to the snow-coated silver Acura. Mom ran her hand back and forth over the windshield to wipe off the snow. I sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window. The driver side door opened and closed and the car shifted with the added weight. The engine started and we rolled out of the parking lot.

The ride home was silent.

•*•*•

I sat on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest. Tomorrow is Friday. I'd have to go to school tomorrow. I'd have to see her again tomorrow.

"Alice," I whispered her name. "Alice," I said louder, jumping from my bed. "Alice!" I strode to the wall placed each of my hands flat on the surface. "Alice," I breathed, pressing my forehead to the wall. "You're a wuss!" I yelled and punched the wall. "Wuss!" I punched the wall again. "Wuss! Wuss! Wuss!" The skin on my knuckles split, leaving little spots of blood on the wall. I rubbed it away and licked my knuckles. "Alice," I grinned into my hand, "I wonder what your blood tastes like."