Nameless

Chapter 5

There was only silence at the dinner table. I was too busy thinking about being followed to notice the jittery feeling my father had, and the drained look on my mother's face.
"How was school today, honey?" My mother broke the silence.
"What?"
"How was school?"
"Oh, fine. We didn't do much."
"You children, you never do much. Only the basics. You see, this is why I should become a teacher, Liv. It would create more challenges for kids Annie's age." My father had insisted on getting a teaching degree for four years. No one ever really wanted him to get it, his job was high-paying and great. He was a writer for the local news. I looked up to him most of the time, which is why I'm getting my degree in teaching and writing the law at Harvard Law School next year.
"Yeah, Dad. I'm with you there. Teaching would be great."
"Annie, could you do me a favor?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Could you run downstairs into the garage and bring up the toolbox underneath the Christmas ornaments when we're finished? Your father and I have to fix our door hinge before we forget about it again."
My parents got into a really heated argument a couple of weeks ago. I guess my dad took it a little too far and he broke off the door. I didn't really see much, all I saw was the astonished look on my mother's face, and the enraging fury in my father's.
"Sure."
********
I made my way downstairs into that horrible garage after dinner. I knew that I was just there earlier today, and I knew that I was hiding from a possible killer or kidnapper. The fear was eating me alive.
I turned on all of the lights and shoved my hand underneath the Christmas ornament box to lift it up.
Someone was outside of my garage door.
I only caught a glimpse of their face, not enough to piece a person together.
Then, there was scratching.
Really? ANYTHING ELSE?
Yes.

Then, they knocked.
I dropped the ornament box and ran to the window.
"GO THE HELL AWAY."

I yelled as loud as I could.

I yelled every curse word in the book.

They ran away eventually. But that didn't solve my broken ornament problem.
I had just begun to pick up every Christmas ornament I saw, broken or unscathed, and throw them into the box when I saw a white envelope lying on the ground with a folded up, worn-out piece of paper hanging out of it's mouth.
"Don't look at it, it's none of your business." I whispered this to myself several times before grabbing the envelope and pulling out the flyer.

I shouldn't have fucking looked at it.