Forest

Chapter One

"How'd you sleep last night?" Sammy asked, she's my lovely, outgoing roommate.
Grabbing a piece of toast she's prepared, "The nightmares are back."
Sammy rolled her eyes, she knew exactly what I was talking about, "Mave, I thought your therapist helped you get past that?"
Past my dead parents, and the fact I watched them die. Past the countless foster homes I've been through and the abuse. I thought, crossing my arms, "I thought I was past everything too. I've been having new nightmares about my parents."
"When's your next appointment?" She asked around a mouthful of toast.
"Today, at noon." I answered
Sammy wiped her fingers on a napkin, "I'd definitely bring it up, if I were you, it's been a year since the last nightmare."
"Yeah, I plan on it," I took another bite of my food, chewing a couple times, "It felt so real, Sammy."
"What was different about it this time?" She asked, her phone dinged, without hesitation she pulled it out of her back pocket. I knew it was her boyfriend. The question she'd just asked me, I wasn't even going to bother answering her. Just like every other time her boyfriend texts, Sammy clicked her phone screen a couple times, holding it up to her ear. She was going to call him, and speak to him for the next two hours, if it's a short call.
Pushing off of the kitchen counter, I looked at my own phones screen, it was ten a.m. I have a little bit of time to kill before therapy. Going to my bedroom, I sat down on my bed, grabbing my journal and writing my dream down.
. . .
There was a loud scratching noise, it was loud enough it woke me from a dead sleep. Sitting up in bed, the scratching persisted. Looking out of the window from the safety of my mattress, I saw the full moon illuminating the yard and woods outside. It's not uncommon to her scratching in the middle of the night here, the folks around here call the strange noises Night-Walkers. They happen almost every night, except during the new moon, the scratches don't show up. Laying back down, I knew they'd pass, eventually the Night-Walker would go away. Settling under the covers, I stared up at my ceiling waiting for them to go away.
Bang! There was a loud crashing noise downstairs, the scratching ceased. It's inside the house. Oh my God it's inside the house! Throwing my covers off, my parents had run me through drills for scenarios like this. Bolting my door closed with a large metal bolt, one that my dad installed when I was a very young child.  I don't know if it would actually keep whatever a Night-Walker is, out of my room, no ones ever seen one. At least no ones ever seen a Night-Walker and lived to tell the tale.
Holding my ear against the door, I listened. Downstairs, I could hear it rummaging through different things, it sounded like it had opened the fridge, glass bottles of soda rattling against each other. Then the trash can fell over, I heard a snort come from the beast, the sound sent a chill through my body. Oh no! I thought, did mom and dad hear the door break? Are they awake? Is their door locked? I was taught during my drills to never open the door once it's been locked until I knew it was safe. My parents also told me to never yell, that would only draw attention, and it would get me killed. Debating with myself, I could hear the Night-Walker stalking up the stairs. Swallowing thick spit, I quietly unlocked the large bolt on my door, easing my door open just a crack. Looking through the gap, I saw the shadow of the Night-Walker cast by the moon. It's shadow was huge, and it crept up the wall. I wanted to look away, but I needed to make sure my parents door was barred. The creature was in full view now, I'm not sure if it noticed I was watching it, it's attention was drawn to my parents door.
Just it's head was at the same level as the top of the door jam, it's fur as far as I could tell was a light brown, it had claws like I'd imagine a prehistoric animal would have. They were big, they were sharp, and there were four of them and a wicked looking dew claw. It sniffed the bottom at the bottom of the doorway, whatever it smelled it must have liked, because it intelligently used it's paw, hand? It's hand-like paw, to try the doorknob. The door opened easily. "No," I muttered, I didn't mean to speak, I didn't mean to vocalize my protest, because it heard me. It's ears flicked towards me, but it didn't turn it's head, but a second silhouette appeared on the staircase, this one was much smaller. Closing my door, quietly latching it closed, I waited a few seconds, maybe it won't hurt my parents. Maybe it'll investigate them while they're asleep and then leave. I prayed, deep down, though, I knew the real truth. I could just hope that it was quick, and painless for them. Then I'd have to focus on surviving the creatures. Cracking my door open slowly again, my heart froze and my stomach was in my throat. There was a pair of eyes staring at me, inches away from my face. It's eyes were ambient, glowing an eerie shade of blue, or maybe gray? It was the same shade as the moonlight. It was the smaller beast. What do I do? Do I close the door? Do I run? Maybe I scream? I was eagerly searching for an answer, but something completely bewildering happened. The creature used its half paw, half hand, to close the door.
Frozen completely, I stood in front of my door, while there were two Night-Walkers in my house, in the middle of winter. Almost like snapping out of a trance, I shoved the large metal bolt into place. I doubt it'll stop the larger Night-Walker from getting in here, but my door may withstand the smaller one. Quickly, but quietly I opened my closet, layering pants, hoodies, hats, gloves, grabbing a couple blankets, I climbed out of my window onto the parapet of the roof. Just like the drill. I huddled in the corner, wrapped in the blankets I brought out, the cold wind biting at my cheeks and nose, the only exposed skin I had.
Shortly after being outside, the wind whipping through my hair, I heard screams. They were my parents' screams. I knew it, there was nothing I could do. No way I could save them. It didn't take long for their screams to turn into the same sound as the wind snapping through the tall pine trees, a whistling rang through the air. I didn't know if the creatures left the house, or if they did, but I stayed outside, huddled in the corner, until dawn. When the sun was firmly hung in the sky, that's when I finally made my way back inside. I avoided looking in my parents room, I didn't want to see how bad it was, I already had a good idea. There were blood prints from the beasts on the walls, the floor, the stairs, and there were drag marks from my parents room all the way out of the front door. I called the police, waiting for them in the kitchen, still layered in clothes, and wrapped in my blanket.
When the authorities arrived, the chief of police found me in the kitchen, other officers moving throughout the house clearing every room. I remember the chief speaking to me, but I wasn't hearing individual words, more of just the tone of his voice, which was confused and concerned. Then another officer, from upstairs I think, who yelled something. EMT's came through the front door after the officers cleared every room, they assessed me, I remember one saying, "She's lucky." and another, "No frostbite?" Then I was moved out of the house, back into the cold, into the back of an ambulance. I had to be evaluated at the hospital just to make sure I was ok. I went along with everything. Before the doors to the ambulance closed, I saw the police chief take his stocking cap off, rub his head and face, and a couple officers covered their mouths too. Not because of the gruesome scene, but more than likely because they know what did this, it's the second attack this winter. Normally the Night-Walkers only enter a person's house to scavenge for any meat thrown away in a trash can, sometimes they'd eat the family pet, but they've never attacked people before. Not in many, many years anyways. The ambulance doors were closed, and like a floodgate breaking, reality set in, I bawled so hard it hurt. My muscles ached, my lungs felt like they were exploding, and my eyes stung. My parents are gone.
. . .
"Mave!" Sammy yelled, staring at the word covered page in my journal, my emotions raw again, I yelled back, "Yeah?"
"Don't forget to get ready for therapy! You have about an hour before you have to leave!" She yelled in response
Checking the lockscreen of my phone, sure enough, it was eleven:ten. "Thanks!" I yelled, sometimes I space out and memories float to the surface. Sammy is well aware of this about me, she snaps me out of it when she notices. She's so good at knowing when I do this, that she doesn't even have to be in the same room. Tossing my journal and pen on the nightstand, I hopped off of the bed, pulling some clothes out of my closet, and headed to the shower.