One Stray Rebel

Chapter 5 ~ Do you hear what "he" hears?

         James went to see if the white haired, raspy voiced, scarred face, old man was still in the lobby. I was anxiously looking through the peep hole on our door, hoping "he" didn't capture James. About five minutes have passed, and he hasn't returned. I decided that freaking out behind a door wasn't going to help James in any way, so I found a room key, and tiptoed down the hideous hallway. I had a debate with myself on whether or not to go into the lobby, and decided against it. It has only been 45 minutes or so since my encounter with "him". The staircase seemed to be the best bet at this point in time.
The third floor was a lot spookier than the others. I could tell that nobody really stayed up here too often. The carpets were blue up here, but had the same strange pattern.
        "James?" I called out in a voice a little louder than a whisper, "Are you up here?" Nothing, just silence. Then in the distance I heard a faint click.
Mommy! Mommy! No, don't leave me mommy! The sound of a recorded voice played. Mom, please! Mom no! No. It couldn't be! Ow mommy. Mommy why'd you hit me?! Owwy! Ow! SHUT UP YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN NOW!! Flashbacks begin to fill my brain.
         It was an August night, the year was 2000. My mom had told me that she was taking me to the grocery store, and as a 4 year old, I believed her. We didn't own a car, so we were walking. It was cold, and the wind was howling. She took us down an alley, and to a dead end.
        "Are we lost mommy?" I remember asking her.
         "No, but you're going to stay here while I leave," She replied casually. Its been such a long time since I thought of her voice.
        "When will you be back, mommy?"
        "I won't, and quit calling me that dead awful word!" She turned to leave, and that is when I started screaming at her not to leave me alone. She pivoted around and backhanded the right side of my face.
        I quickly shook the memory out of my mind. I didn't want to remember that. "He" knows I didn't. I started running down the stairs, and back to our room. I was in tears by the time I got to our hallway. James was standing outside of our door.  I tried to wipe the tears away before he could see, but it was too late.
         "Rebel! Are you hurt? Did "he" get you? Tell me what's wrong!" I was so embarrassed.
         " "He" is still here," I sobbed, "he was playing a recording from when I first became homeless. My worst memory." James' eyes got wide, but he didn't say anything. He just pulled me in to a hug. A sudden wave of comfort,  safeness, trust, and belonging washed over me. James will keep me safe, I just know it.