Old Windows

All Mapped Out

* 2 Days Later

Excluding brief passings into the kitchen or simple questions like 'where'd you put the pot?' they hadn't talked since that day. Neither of them exactly wanted to. There was nothing left to say. Claire remained up in the bedroom and only came down for food, and Mort resided within his half downstairs. The only difference was Mort had company; his computer. Claire wondered desperately how that thing still worked. She could only assume it had been some sort of witchcraft that was capable of harboring such vile contents so meticulously. There had been numerous times just within those two days where she envisioned herself finding that license plate and snatching that computer from his blood covered hands. She mapped it all out. She'd hide both of them probably beneath the mattress and watch him scramble with panic.

Claire relished in the amount of power she had since Mort was immobile and knew what she knew. There was no phone line he could disconnect, no drugs he could plant, nothing he could do. Unless he wanted to scream in pain with every movement, seeing as he refused to go to any hospital for his plethora of infirmities.

It had been around 5 a.m. when Claire woke up. Everyday had seemed to pass by exactly like the day before. This time was different, this time she knew she would go in for it and take the things he held on to so tightly and dearly. She hadn't bothered with shoes, that would only make more noise. Instead, she walked down those damned creaky stairs barefoot.

With every battered step of the stairs, she watched him keenly. At some steps he would toss to the right and let out a groan of pain without knowing. He had a large half empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and an almost equally large bottle of pain killers next to that. She knew he had to be out for a while. He was already a heavy sleeper. Claire went knee high on those last steps seeing that caused the least amount of noise. Her body wasn't trembling as much as it would've been, had this happened a few weeks ago. She was excited this time and the rush was almost instigating her to blow her cover.

Claire tip toed around to the front of the couch where Mort had been facing. Before searching the floor, her eyes darted for his face. And to her direful disclosure, her eyes met his. There he was lying, eyes wide open, clutching onto a pillow. Her heart fell into the center of her stomach and her breath was brought to a ghastly halt. All excitement had easily vanished in an instant. Until she noticed something odd. He hadn't moved or blinked once.

She frowned and waved her hand, "Mort?" she whispered gently. But there was no answer, 'since when does he sleep with his eyes open?' she thought.

She shivered out of fear before cautiously searching for the items. The license plate was lying near the fireplace which was easy to find, but she knew the sick bastard was probably hiding the computer for reasons such as this. But he was an idiot, an idiot that couldn't hardly move. It was nowhere to be found with just the naked eye, but she crouched down and vaguely saw the shine of metal underneath the couch. Exactly where his arm would've been able to reach and not any further.

She snickered to herself. Claire prudently lied on the floor and stretched herself out flat across. Giving herself the perfect entry underneath the couch. At least she thought she did, when she went to reach for it and only felt wood floor.

"Sh*t," she thought.

She scooted herself a little closer, trying with all the strength in her body to not make a single sound of fabric ragging across the floor. She knew she found the sweet spot and stretched her arm inside. Her fingertips brushed the top of the smooth metal and she smiled to herself. As soon as she was getting ready to extract the laptop, she heard him shuffle from above. Immediately, she retracted her arm and lied face down on the floor. Almost beginning to cry at the thought of him catching her. But the movement ceased and she slowly lifted her head. No sign of Mort. Her arm made the reach once more and she worked quickly this time around, just to get the hell back to her room. She pulled out the laptop securely and turned her head upwards to the couch. Claire almost threw the computer clear across the living room when her face was but 2 inches from his.

The movement she heard earlier was him adjusting in his sleep, and this time, somehow, his face had been angled downwards towards the floor. Giving him the perfect view of what Claire was up to. Had he been awake. His eye abstained from closing and she wished to God he would just sleep like a normal person. But there was nothing normal about Mort. Just before she was about to make her get away, she looked into his eyes. They hadn't nearly been the same color or shape they were compared to when they had met. These were strangers eyes, the eyes of a complete psychopath. A string in her heart had snapped as she reminisced on all those memories she had before this all went to hell. It hurt that everything had to come to this. She sighed gently and debated giving him one last kiss on his forehead, but she couldn't.

The objective was met. She clutched onto both in her arms with great care. She ignored the creaks she was making going up the stairs, he couldn't come after her now. Upon walking back into the room, a sudden rush of panic circulated through her of where to put these things. At this point it hadn't really mattered where, there was no way he could come up the stairs; let alone find them. But after some careful thought, she decided under the mattress would be best suited. Now she just needed to execute the perfect response for when he asks her where they've gone.

Claire looked out the window for a couple minutes until she headed back into bed. She used to love watching the trees sway from the usual storms, tracing the patterns of the raindrops on the window, and listen for the magnificent claps of thunder. Now they were like seeing the courtyard from your prison window.

She was woken up by the most repulsive of sounds, Mort's aching groans. It caused every cell in her body to tense up and sent anxiety stricken shock waves through her. She collapsed the other side of her pillow down on her ear and scrunched her face in aversion. A few moments went by where she anticipated to hear a sort of panicked search downstairs. The thought of him frantically looking and worrying made her lips curl into a smirk.