The Silence Between Names

Chapter Two: Who are you?

My eyes fluttered open to the bright light seeping through my lids. Confused, I sat up, and was immediately met with a piercing headache. I felt a tinge of surprise when I realized I didn't recognize where I was. Scanning the room, I took mental notes of everything I saw. 

The wallpaper was a dark olive green. There was wooden lining around the door frame. There were no pictures or any personal belongings inside the bedroom. Sifting through the covers, I lifted the sheets to try and look at the mattress. A foul scent tore into my nose, and I quickly put the covers back down. Slipping out of the bed, my bare feet creaked against the wooden floor, and I winced every time it made a squeak. 

As I started towards the door, my eye caught the mirror, and I took a long look at myself. In the same clothes from last night, my hair was matted and tangled, and mascara smudged under my eyes, shielding the blue tint color of them. 

The door creaked open, and I tip toed down the hallway, trying not to make a sound. The house was silent. I was startled by a voice calling me.

"Oh, Ava. You're awake."

My head shot around to see a figure behind me in the shadowed hallway. His broad shoulders stiffened, and he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Where am I?" I croaked.

The man laughed, signaling for me to follow him as he led me out of the hallway, and into a large parlor room. The home was decorated in pastels and gold. The walls were blanketed with a soft white paint. I hesitantly followed the man, as he sat down on a green satin couch, and motioned for me to sit next to him.

I obeyed his wishes and sat beside him, staring at his cool brown eyes. The man rubbed his stubble with his fingertips, and stared down at me.

"My parents are probably looking for me." I whispered.

The man smiled down at me, scratching the back of his head. Nodding, he rose and headed over to a pair of french doors. Pushing the curtains open, bright sunlights flooded into the room, lighting up the beautiful gold railings and white walls. I squinted at him, as he looked back at me, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. 

"You have no business getting that drunk and walking alone." The man noted in a cool tone.

I was starting to grow impatient. What I had no business doing was being held captive at a stranger's house. My feelings were shifting from confusion to fear very quickly. The man was still saying nothing, only gazing out the glass doors that looked out over a grassy field. He sighed, staring down at the ground before turning around to face me again.

"You weren't responsive. I wasn't sure what to do. I'm sorry" he reached out his hand "I'm Peter."

I stood up and hesitantly walked towards him. "Ava." I shook his hand. 

I stared into his dark eyes, and we both fell silent. There was a mixture of anxiety and peace between us, before I dropped his hand and took a step back from him. 

We both spun around to the sound of a doorbell ringing through the house. Peter slid past me and headed down the stairs, where I followed. I looked around the rooms we passed to get to the front door. The house was large, decorated with beautiful colors and golden frames. There were no personal photos, only large paintings reaching across the walls. 

I stared at Peter, wondering why he lived so far out. He seemed so normal. I then noticed something on his countertop. A shiny badge sat on the concrete, and his name read: "Agent Peter Knox". He worked for the FBI. The bigger question was, what was he doing in Dewbrooke. 

"You're an agent." I noted, as Peter started towards the front door.

Peter stopped still, and turned to me, his face turning serious.

"The less you know about this, the better." He replied.

I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure out what he meant. I had grown up in Dewbrooke, where everyone knew everything about anything. If he was here for some sort of issue going on, he certainly had the wrong town. I wondered why on earth he would want to come here of all places. It did, however, make sense as to why he was in such an isolated part of town. Most of Debrooke sat on woods and farmland. 

Dewbrooke was possibly the most boring town one could think of. For starters, there was one high-school, OakDale High. Everyone went to bonfire and barn parties on weekends after football games, where the same groups of people appeared every single weekend. It was like a record player, a constant loop of the same days, weeks, and months. It was a cycle that never stopped. But I suppose I was wrong.

"All I'll tell you Ava, is that you shouldn't be out alone like that. It's dangerous, and you don't know the kind of people that are out there." He warned.

I rolled my eyes, he wasn't there first person to tell me that. I ignored him, and motioned towards the wooden door in front of us. A shadow was shown through the class window on the door, and my heart began to race as I wondered who was on the front steps.  

Peter opened the front door, and I was met with a familiar face.

"Come on. We're leaving." Jack said.

I nodded, thanking the Peter as Jack let me walk past him, placing his hand on the small of my back. I quickly trotted to Jack's red truck, slamming the rusted door shut. 

Watching from the window, Jack was talking to Peter. Peter's eyes remained cool and dark, but Jack seemed agitated and angry, pointing at Peter as his voice was a loud pitch.

Finally, Peter slammed the door shut, and Jack stormed to the truck, the engine roaring when he got in. 

"What the hell were you thinking, Ava.?" Jack's voice was thick with anger.

I rolled my eyes "At least he wanted to help me." I replied nonchalantly.

"You're an idiot." Jack muttered.

We stayed silent for the rest of the car ride back to our neighborhood. Jack kept his eyes on the winding road, and we pulled into my driveway. Hopping out of the truck, I looked Jack up and down, slamming the door shut, and walking up my concrete driveway. Opening the door, I heard Jack speed off, and I let myself inside my home.