To Imagine...

Imagine Five: Skylar

I sat quietly on the couch in sweatpants and a baggy T, brooding over my latest mental discomfort. Mom had taken off of work to celebrate me "stepping in to womanhood," which had kept me on edge all day. It was noon now, meaning the kid in my bathroom had been there a full six hours, bleeding all over my white tile floor. There was no way that that could be okay, for either of us. I wonder if I should feed him?

Shrugging, I turned up the TV a little.

Once I saw that the scene was local news, I frowned somewhat anxiously at the TV, leaning back into the only clean part of the couch. My stomach was hanging out somewhere around my feet, probably having a party with how miserable it was making me. The TV reporter spoke and all feeling drained from my body, pooling feverishly with the rest of my bowels.

"Two police officers were killed last night in an alley after chasing a highly dangerous suspect through the city; investigators say there were six bullets fired, but only five have been recovered. The suspect is believed to be injured, and may be hiding anywhere in the Parea area. I must repeat that this suspect is believed to be highly dangerous, and we ask that if anyone is to come in contact with any such suspicious person that you report it to the Parea police department immediately." The news reporter made a pause, receiving a slip of paper, and my stomach came back to me deathly fast--enough to make me nearly vomit in my mouth. "Just in: we have received a message saying that the suspect in this case is likely handcuffed, and because of his situation, may do anything to receive help. Stay safe everyone, and try to stay indoors. By any means, do not attempt to approach this person. We must press this point. We do not know how dangerous this suspect may be or what he is capable of. This is a unique case, given the circumstances. Police investigators are..."

I looked slowly behind me over the couch, suddenly realizing what I had done. I had brought all of this on myself.

Why had I done that. Turning, I felt my soul cry a little on the inside. I'd probably be decommissioned once this was over with.

The boy that I had found was standing in my bedroom doorway, silhouetted by the bright light from my window. He glanced through the kitchen once, and then walked across the hall to me like living water, so fluid that I thought he might as well have been a ghost. I sat utterly rooted on the couch.

I did not move. The TV buzzed quietly behind me; mom rummaged around in the garage, rotating laundry. The boy breathed softly.

He stared at me with dark, blank eyes for quite some time, his expression dark and meaningless. Fear showed clearly on my face. He appeared undeniably calm.

Clearly he knew that he would be all over the news--wouldn't he be trying to erase his evidence now? How much trouble was I in?

"I need you to come back to the room."

I blanched. I couldn't trust him; I couldn't go back with him. He had killed two people. I shouldn't have trusted him in the first place.

I didn't move.

"Your mother is coming." He turned away. "We need to talk."

My stomach disappeared, unimpressed by my life decisions. We need to talk, he had said. Talk with a serial killer, in my bedroom.

I turned away slightly. I had just saved him--that put me in some kind of good standing with him, right? I was only just realizing how truly bad this situation was. What if police came to our house? How did he even get here? Did he have a car?

I needed to stop thinking.

Mom walked in from the garage, then.

"Crystal, I'm going to make some cookies. How many do you want?"

I turned myself back to the TV to hide my horrified expression.

"All of them," I called almost weakly, desperate to move my attention to something else.

I heard mother laugh charmingly as she washed her hands in the kitchen. I turned the TV to some show and ignored it, curling up against the couch with my eyes closed, and I suddenly found myself choking back tears for the second time that day. This day could have never gone pleasantly, but I failed to imagine how it could have possibly been made any worse.

That ignorance is where I truly went wrong.