The Patron Saint of Monsters

Chapter Seven Part Seven

Rebecca wanted to call the police but her phone was on the floor next to her bed and she was too scared to reach for it. She could not remember the last time she had been this alert or aware. Her head felt free of the intrusive thoughts that she wasn’t thinking, she felt coherent and aware of her surroundings. She could see papers scattered everywhere, papers that she did not remember writing or tossing. It was as if everything she had done for the last few days had not been done by her. She shut her eyes and covered her ears with her hands, much like a scared child does, as if being unable to see or hear would mean that the scary thing was not there.

Her father burst into the room toting his handgun, “What baby girl?” He asked in a gruff voice. Trina and Rebecca’s stepmother stood behind him curiously looking in.

“There’s a face under my bed.” Rebecca whispered.

Her father cocked his gun and entered the room, he crouched down and looked beneath her bed. All he saw was a carton of cigarettes and a filled ashtray.

“There’s nothing here.” He said sounded confused, annoyed, and relieved.

Rebecca flipped off of her mattress and into a crouched position in a manner that was so animalistic and completely inhuman that Trina gasped and felt as though she was going to break down into sobs. Trina didn’t like Rebecca but she certainly loved her and sometimes envied her. The last thing she had ever wanted to see was her sister reduced to this, this thing. Rebecca looked under her bed and screamed. She still saw the face she knew it was there. How could her father not see the big unnaturally red lips and the black rimmed eyes.

“There!” She cried pointing.

Her father furrowed his brow. “There is nothing there Bex.”  he said wrapping his arms around her. Holding her tightly. She began to cry whimpering “Daddy, the face.” He rocked his daughter back and forth feeling hopeless. He had no idea what was wrong or how to fix things. He was worried and angry, things like this were not supposed to happen to his family, especially not his pretty, popular, and perfect daughter.

Trina carried in a cup of tea into Rebecca’s room. It was sugared and creamed just the way she liked it, she hoped that it would help calm her sister down. “Hey.” she said quietly and meekly.

Rebecca did not acknowledge her presence. “I brought you some tea.” Trina mumbled setting it on the nightstand.

“Do you remember when we were children?” Rebecca rasped in a hoarse voice.

“Of course.” Trina answered sitting down on the bed next to her sister.

Rebecca giggled knowingly, “Remember that time all of the animals killed themselves?”

“What?” Trina asked.

“The time we were all sunning out on Val’s roof and we all watched the squirrel crawl into the broken gutter on the house across the street? And then all the other animals and birds crawled upon the roof and they all took turns flinging themselves off of it? The birds too, they didn’t even open their wings? And we all just watched and didn’t know what to do while they slammed down onto the hot pavement. The bloodstains burned and Oleander cried.” Rebecca laughed as she recalled the story.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Trina replied sounded perplexed.

“Liar!” Rebecca declared, “You want me to forget. It’s a trick.”

“No, Rebecca that never happened.” Trina insisted.

“Then why do I remember it?” Rebecca asked, and Trina was at a loss as to how to answer.