Become the Night

Fairy Tale? More like Horror Story. Part 2

My parents aren't as lucky as Cole and myself. Their room's door is knocked off its hinges and is in splinters on the floor. Their bodies are laying in the middle of the floor and are completely ripped to shreds. There is blood and guts everywhere, the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. It's like a really over done crime scene from the show, CSI. The sob I choked down earlier makes its way up and out of my throat. I drop to my knees and let the hysterics work their way out of me. It seems as though I sat there bawling for an eternity, but it's been closer to only a few minutes. It's funny how time distorts when you're dealing with trauma.

Once I feel cried out, my brain starts working again, and I know what needs to be done. I check on Cole and see that he's still in the same condition I left him in, not better, but at least not worse. His chest is rising and falling with a steady rhythm, so I feel alright with leaving him for a few minutes. Then I go to my room, grab my phone, and dial 911.

After I talk to the dispatch, I check on Cole again. He hasn't changed, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Then, I go outside to wait for the police and ambulance. The path from my room to the front door looks like something out of a disaster movie. The whole house is as trashed as my room. Except for Cole's room, I remember. It looks like a large and pissed off animal ran rampant throughout the house without regard for, well, anything. There is nothing left. The furniture is broken and smashed. Clothes are ripped and torn. My whole house is just gone for lack of a better word.

I exit out the front door, which is hanging by one hinge. I sit numbly on the front porch steps as I wait for the police, fire department and ambulance to arrive. I think, a bit disjointedly, why would the fire department need to be there and then dismiss the thought almost as soon as it made its way through my head.

The paramedics check me over and state that the only thing wrong with me is that I'm in shock. I lift my shirt curiously. Surely, they would've seen the claw marks, bite mark and bruises. I look down at myself in disbelief. My skin is smooth with no remnants of the injury I noticed only forty-five minutes prior. I want to yell at them and tell them that they're wrong. That it's not just shock, something happened, and I have no idea what. I want to scream at them that they need to save my brother and not worry about me. I want to.... I don't know. I want, if I'm being totally honest with myself, to go back to yesterday morning when my parents were alive, and my brother wasn't fighting for his life.

A large group of people gather, as people will do when something like this happens. I see Max through the crowd on the other side of the police barricade. He tries to get through, but the cops won't let him. I tell them that it's okay for him to come through.

"Cal? What happened?" Max asks as soon as he's next to me as I sit in the back of one of the ambulances. I don't even know where to begin, so I just shrug.

"I don't really know. Something attacked us last night, but I don't know what. Cole is hurt bad."

"What about your parents?"

I can't even answer as tears well up again. I just shake my head. He gasps and puts his arms around my shoulders to comfort me. I reach up and hold his arm that is across my chest. He doesn't say anything and just holds me. His silent support has me crying harder. My crying has him squeeze my shoulders harder and he buries his face behind my neck. We sit like that, two best friends holding each other for nothing more than the support we each need, for another few minutes before I can stop the tears. I gulp in two large, shaky breaths and release Max. He doesn't say anything, but he moves back and sits beside me. We see the medics exit the house with Cole and Max rubs my back in more silent support.

My brother is taken away in the ambulance, the lights flashing and sirens echoing as it speeds off. My parents are taken away in a coroner's van. They try to block my view of them being taken out of the house, but I can see just enough. Besides, I will never be able to get that image of my parents in their room out of my head. My house is taped off with police tape. The front door was temporarily put back with some nails and a hammer a neighbor brought over.

"Son? Son?" a policeman is trying to get my attention, but it takes a few more seconds before I can comprehend that. Max jostles me to get me to pay attention to the policeman.

"Huh? What?" I say, dazed. I shake my head and rub my eyes. I realize that I was staring off into space and the bright sunlight was hurting my eyes. "Sorry, what?"

"Do you have someone you can stay with?" the policeman asks. I shake my head "no."

"I don't have any family near here. My maternal grandmother lives about four states east and the rest of my family is de...." I almost say dead, but I can't get the word past my lips.

"You can stay with us. I'm sure my parents won't mind," Max says to me and then adds to the policeman, "We live just down the street." I'm about to agree, I mean I don't really have any other choice, when I hear a voice from the crowd.

"He can stay with me," the deep voice says. I recognize that voice and I look up from my hands that I'm now staring at to see Mr. Smithin making his way towards us. I didn't even know he was there. I look around to see if I can see where he came from.

"And you are, Sir?" the policeman asks. Mr. Smithin goes on to explain that he works with my school and can provide housing and make sure I get to school. Since I'm a minor, the police are hesitant to let me go with Mr. Smithin. Honestly, I'd rather live with Max at this moment, I don't know Mr. Smithin that well outside of school, but I don't know if I can handle seeing the remnants of the house every day. Max nods at me as though he understands.

"It's alright. I don't mind going with him," I say completely deadpan to the police officer. He hesitates still, but in the end, I think he realizes I don't have much of a choice. He hands me a business card with his name and number on it.

"Here. This is my personal number written on the back. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, call me immediately. Even if it's just to talk to someone. Call me if you need to." He's smiling as he says this, but I can see that he's serious. My eyes almost fill with tears again, but I somehow keep them away.

The paramedics clear me to leave, so I say goodbye to Max and thank the officer then I follow Mr. Smithin to his car. I don't have any clothes other than the blood-soaked ones I'm wearing. I don't have my schoolbooks or even a toothbrush. Mr. Smithin must be reading my mind because he looks at me and says, "Don't worry about your things. We'll work on that tomorrow. As for today, I think Principal Daltry will give you a pass considering the circumstances." Mr. Smithin gives me a smile and for the first time since I woke this morning, I feel somewhat at ease. Something about his smile makes me feel that maybe, just maybe, I can somehow get through this.

We climb into his car, which he had parked down the street. My hand passes lightly over the soft leather of the seat, and I turn to look out the back window at my house and Max standing in front of it. He's still talking with the officer that gave me his card. The crowd is dispersing and most of the emergency vehicles are gone. Looking at the past isn't helping me, so I shift and turn around in my seat and look towards the future.