The Saving Bailey Trilogy 1: The Bullet List

Chapter 7

                                                                 Chapter 7

        I am curled up in a ball, lying next to my mom on her couch. I say ‘her couch’ because it is where she has slept every night since we moved here. She gave me the only bedroom.

        “I want to pack you a lunch for tomorrow, is that okay?” Mom asks while a reality show plays on TV.

        “Yeah, I’d like that,” I say.

        “Good,” she says, kissing the top of my head.

        And just like that, the incident never happened. Just that easily, it is buried. Unfortunately, I still have the stolen gold of the dead in my clutches and still I am haunted.

        I fall asleep on the couch and don’t wake up again until about three in the morning. Mom has fallen on to the floor, passed out, without a blanket. I casually shake her awake and tell her to take the couch back; I am going to my bed.

        Somehow I end up in bed, though I think I must have sleepwalked to it. The sheets are cold and I am having a hard time keeping warm. As soon as I am comfy enough and have tossed all my pillows to the floor, I fall asleep again.

        The moonlight is shining down on my face. I realize it is the only light in the apartment while drifting in and out of sleep. Once conscious enough, I comprehend why the darkness is especially bothering to me tonight. My bedroom lamp is off. Through my window, the stars are vacant from the clear night sky, just like they were the last time I saw my dad. I let out a scream. The kind of scream that wakes my mom out of her slumber and sends her into a panic, turning almost all of the lights on in our apartment.

        “My lamp isn’t on,” I say alarmed, and throw my hand at it, searching for the switch. I hit its neck and it falls, the glass base of the lamp shattering into pieces. Mom flicks the bathroom light on, making it just bright enough for her to see the terror in my eyes and the lamp broken by my bedside table.

        “Darn it,” she says, spotting the broken glass. “I turned off all the lights when you went to bed. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

        “You can’t ever turn them off,” I say thoroughly terrified.

        “I know that by now sweetie, I was half-asleep when I did it,” Mom says, her voice lined with exhaustion. “And you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want the light to wake you.”

        I wonder how it could have looked peaceful to her, when I could barely keep my eyes shut or open for more than five minutes at a time.

        “I’ll leave the bathroom light on,” she says. “And I’ll clean up your lamp in the morning. Just don’t step in it when you get out of bed.”

        I nod and pull my blanket up to my chin, trying to warm up again. I stay awake until dawn breaks and grey early morning light fills my bedroom. I step out of bed on the opposite side from the glass and tip-toe to the bathroom, so as not to wake Mom.

        I turn the shower on as hot as the water can go and stare in the mirror as the steam erases my reflection. The bruise has faded significantly, but my eyes have dark circles around them from my sleepless night.

        I step into the scorching hot water, letting it clear my mind and wash away the two-day-old grime. I think about how I am going to have to face Miemah today in gym, and Clad in three of my classes. Maybe I’ll catch up on some Z’s in the janitor’s closet. Bring it on.