Knocker

The Right Thing to Do

Holmer pushes me away and then he falls off the bed and I hear him say "ouff!"

I ask if he's okay but he doesn't answer because his face is on the carpet and he can't get up he doesn't have arms anymore. And it's my fault he doesn't have arms because Knocker was my fault he did it but it was my fault. My fault, mine!

"I'm sorry, Holmer," I'm crying and I reach over and pick him up. He says it's okay but I don't think it is. He sounds sad, or maybe scared, or angry, it's hard to tell. I think I need to make things right and I know how.

"I'm going to do it, Holmer," I say, and he doesn't answer because he knows what it is and he knows it's the right thing but he doesn't want me to do it so he's not sure what to say.

"It's okay, Holmer," I say and I hug him but not too tight.

The wooden floor in the hallway is cold and I am barefoot so it's extra cold. Socks help to make it better, but I don't have socks right now so it's harder, but socks also make you slip if you run, so I think it's better if I'm barefoot.

The floor creaks and creaks because I'm too heavy. The floor is a wimp because I'm not too heavy. It needs to learn that I'm not the heaviest in the world, so it mustn't complain. But it does, because it's a wimp. Not everyone is light, floor, so deal with it.

It is dark but in the kitchen there's a window, and the big bright moon is shining through and it's a round moon tonight and that's my favorite moon. Knocker used to tell me that he liked the moons that weren't there.

I shake my head because I have to stop thinking about Knocker like my friend.

He is bad, and I know that now. Now I need to get rid of him before he gets me. I think that he could be really really nice and then I'll do what he says, and I'll be his again. But I wasn't anything to him. I was just a thing to be used. He always told me what to do, but it was not fair, because I should tell me what to do, not his voice.

Tommy...

I freeze.

Tommy...

No.

Help me, Tommy... I'm trapped. Your ma put me in here, and now she has to pay.

Pay?

Like Rodger. And Whiskey.

It was Mr Whiskers. That was my cat's name. And Knocker killed him.

No, Tommy, you killed them. You killed both of them. It wasn't me. I can't really kill. It was all you, my little Tommy... All you...

"No!" I shout and run over to the drawer. I take out a big, sharp knife.

"Tommy?"

"No!"