Heatwaves

The Flea and The Acrobat

"Never trust your fears 

they don't know your strength." - Athena Singh

When I awoke around 3 a.m., the room was shrouded in a dim, eerie silence. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, I questioned whether I had dreamt about inviting him over, as it felt like he had never been here at all. Disoriented and still half-asleep, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and decided to get a glass of water. As I stepped into the hallway, the house seemed unusually quiet, but I soon began to hear muffled voices—multiple voices—coming from somewhere down the hall.

As I tiptoed toward the source of the sounds, my heart pounded louder with each step. At the end of the hallway, I saw two shadowy figures struggling with a body between them. Their silhouettes were indistinct, but their conversation was clear.

"Come on, man, are you really even trying?" The bigger, more muscular man growled, his voice edged with frustration.

"Obviously, otherwise you'd be doing all the work," the slimmer, average-built man replied sarcastically.

"I already am," the muscular man shot back.

"Oh, shut up and just put him on the couch," the slim man said, exasperated.

I froze, pressing myself into the doorway of Hopper's room, my breath catching in my throat. The darkness made it hard to discern details, but I could clearly make out their voices. The slim man directed the muscular one, "Now you hide the device, and I'll find the contraband."

Panic surged through me. I watched as the slim figure started moving towards the hallway and the bathroom. Desperately, I darted to Hopper's closet, squeezing into the cramped space behind a hanging sheet. My heart raced, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. Tears welled up, streaming down my face as I huddled into a ball, praying that this was just a nightmarish hallucination.

In the dim light filtering through the sheet, I could make out the faint outline of the slim man rummaging through the master bathroom. The sound of pill bottles clinking and drawers being yanked open was nearly unbearable. As he turned to leave, I let out a small sigh of relief mixed with a quiet sniffle.

"Is someone there?" he suddenly called out, his flashlight beam sweeping across the room.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs. My entire body was frozen with fear. I heard him approach the closet, the curtain twitching ominously. Just as he was about to pull it aside, the other man shouted from the living room.

"Are you done in there? I'm ready to leave. I already found some empty beer bottles."

The slim man hesitated, then called back, "Yeah, just thought I heard someone."

"This guy definitely lives alone. Honestly, he has his own personal bar in his kitchen, and his kid died from cancer a while back. He's divorced. I don't even understand how he's the sheriff either," the other man's voice was dismissive.

"Yeah, you're right. Whatever, let's go," the slim man replied.

The footsteps faded as they left through the front door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the now-silent house. I exhaled slowly, removing my hand from my mouth. I sat there trembling, waiting for any sign of danger, my tears falling uncontrollably.

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Suddenly, I heard shuffling and groaning in the living room. I froze again, my fear escalating. "Em? Em! Ember, where are you?" I heard Hopper's frantic voice calling out, his steps pounding through the house.