It's Somewhere Beneath Us

Let Go

A heavy cough from Mark woke me from my sleep. The poor guy's neck still hadn't healed from Larry's assault. I glanced toward the window on the wall across from me to see that the sky was a deep periwinkle color. Early morning. There was still a good few hours of rest to be had before everyone awoke for the day. A slight chill brushed over my skin, and I tugged lightly on the blankets, hoping to steal back what had been taken by Andi. I was surprised when it came my way so effortlessly. Feeling bad for now being the one who was the thief, I shifted to cover her more, but my embrace only found the mildew-stenched sheets beneath me. I lifted my head and saw that Andi wasn't next to me. Sighing, I lay back against my pillow and nestled myself into the sprawl of coverage I now had, waiting for her to return from the bathroom. She always had to go in the morning, and it always woke me up, but I didn't mind. It gave me an excuse to snuggle back up to her once she lay down again.

Listening to the room's ambiance, I felt a sense of relief. Gentle breathing from all of the bodies around me (albeit a more labored breathing from Mark) and a sense of peace. Something I hadn't felt in a long while. We had gotten so used to the stress from the thing downstairs that other worries began to rise to the surface. One of those things was Larry, and while I felt awful for admitting it, it was a massive weight off everyone's backs to have him gone. It was always like walking on eggshells when he had been around, and with his slow descent into madness, that only became worse and worse. Now that only the sane people remained, we all felt united again. Deep down, I was still feeling uneasy about Andi and the exit, but after the conversation we had had the week prior, I felt a lot better. Surprisingly, it seemed Andi did too. She was a lot more lively and less often in her head. Her faces of concern disappeared and were instead replaced by the smile we all knew her by. I had tried a couple of times to apologize for how I had acted on the porch, but anytime I did, she would just shush me with a smile and tell me, 'It's okay, Joel. You don't need to be sorry.' It really seemed like Andi was okay.

It was seeming.

After a few moments, I noticed that I couldn't hear any movement from anywhere in the house. Even in the bathroom, the floors creaked beneath the carpet. Yet other than the breathing of my friends, there was no sound at all. I couldn't even hear the creature below us moving around. I sat up as anxiety let itself in. Something was wrong. Just like the night Mark was attacked, something didn't feel right. I stood slowly, trying not to disturb the others, and crossed to the door.

The hallway was cold, and I hugged myself as I peered through the house.

"Andi?" I called out in a loud whisper. No reply.

Light spilled through the crack of the bathroom door, and as I stepped forward to open it, my heart sank to find it empty. I swallowed and turned toward the living room.

"Andi?"

The room was empty, and through the doorway beyond, I could see the bodies twirling outside the sunroom windows. They stopped upon seeing me and began to beckon, showing off their ever-present smiles. Hillary was among them. She opened her mouth and breathed fog onto the window, then traced a heart. At least she would have if she had breath to fog it with. I always hated leaving the bedroom when it was this light out. I couldn't ever bear to see their faces. Their façade was happy, but behind their eyes was an unknown fear.

"Andi? Where are you?"

Against my better judgment, I stepped into the sunroom. My heart began to pound at this point. It was the only place that she could be. I couldn't imagine why she would want to be there while the bodies were still out, but I knew there was no reason she would be in the dining room, and the only other option was the kitchen. Deep down, I knew there was another outcome, however. When I saw the sunroom was empty, I gave up calling. Panic set in, and I instead began muttering to myself.