31 Days of Halloween

Day Thirty-One: Smile, Baby

Mom was going to kill me. This year was our annual trip to Colorado to a ski resort, mom, dad and I, and mom told me to pack because we were leaving early in the morning. I decided there wasn't much I needed to pack, and it could be done later and booted up my desktop computer, intending to play a quick game of online poker. I wasn't betting real money, but it was fun nonetheless. But before I knew it, I had won ten rounds and wasted hours of precious packing time. It was getting late and if mom came in to check on me and saw a completely empty suitcase, she would murder me before I could say boo.

I shut down the computer in the middle of a game and threw random clothes inside. I made sure my fluffy parka and favorite gloves made it inside. I snuck into the kitchen and dumped a bunch of travel snacks into my carry-on pack as well, knowing a teeny bag of peanuts or pretzels won't cut it for me. Not that mom would notice anyway, dad does all the shopping these days.

Satisfied with my last-minute packing, I rifle through my pile of books at the foot of my bed and pick out three titles. One was already half-read so I decided that I could finish it on the plane; that one went into the smaller pocket of my carry-on so I wouldn't lose it. The other two were bigger in size but classics I've already read; those would be material for when the weather was too cold, or I wanted to curl up with a hot chocolate. My parents would probably be off socializing with friends anyway so I would have plenty of down time.

Right on time, mom poked her head into my room. She was wearing her flannel pajamas tonight, the ones with the little pink bows on the pockets. "How's packing going? Your father and I are going to bed soon and I wanted to check in."

I motioned to my bed, the lid of my packed suitcase still open. "All set, just deciding on books and things."

Mom gave me a dry smile. "Sweetie, please don't spend this vacation holed up alone. You already did last year...I hate to see you alone."

I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. Mom meant well, but she will never understand that being by myself is the happiest I ever am. Or ever could be. "It's okay, mom. I'm not a great skier but the scenery is perfect for my drawings and I like just being warm and cozy. I'm well adjusted, you know."

Mom laughed, her smile becoming warm and real. She came inside my room and sat on the floor next to me, reaching for one of my older books. "When did you get this book, Emma? I remember reading this in high school."

"I don't know. Book sale, maybe. It's one of my favorites." I turned the worn cover, sliding a finger over the fading blue letters. I always hoped this J.B. person had gotten to read the book they were gifted.

"Your father says the van leaves at six sharp...want me to wake you up?" She nudges me with her shoulder, laughing. The last time she tried to wake me up, she had to toss a bucket of water on my face. Yet the alarm clock wakes me up instantly.

"I'll stick to the alarm, I'd rather take a bath in the tub not in my bed." Mom laughs and stands, brushing imaginary dirt off her pants. She left my room, but I stayed on the floor another minute, thinking about this trip. I pack up all my art supplies in another carry-on, my genuine black leather carrying case that has my initials monogrammed on it; a Christmas present last year.

By the time we were all up and ready to go, they were calling our boarding number. Mom did tell dad they didn't have time to chat with the neighbor, but dad liked to shoot the breeze with our neighbor, mostly because they liked the same sports teams. And now that we're here, I couldn't get a coffee to go and resigned myself to sleeping the rest of the way.

I ended up alone in a row, mom and dad ahead of me with a man who looked like he was late for a business meeting. A small child and her mother sat next to me. The girl had a big coloring book in her lap, her mom holding the box of markers so they wouldn't spill everywhere. She was coloring a dinosaur all the colors of the rainbow, making an extra line of purple along the spine. I unsnap my case and dig out a little notebook I stash inside, drawing her a picture of her riding the rainbow dinosaur. It wasn't my best work, but it would please a little kid.

She started watching my pen strokes halfway through, her hand pulling my arm down so she could see better. When I finished, I gave it to her in a flourish. She giggled and looked up at me. "Is that me?"

Her mom looked over now, a warm look on her face. "It is, and that's the rainbow dinosaur you're coloring."

The mom nudges her, motioning to me. "Say thank you for the beautiful drawing, Lou."

Lou gave me a gap-toothed grin. "Thank you!"

Lou colored for another hour or so, but by the time the first drinks and snacks were brought out, she was fast asleep laying against my arm. Her mom whispered that she would move her, but I let her stay, deciding to enjoy a nap myself. When I woke, the plane was unloading, and Lou and her mom were already by the door of the plane. The rainbow dinosaur coloring was tucked into my seat, Lou's signature written on the bottom.

The ride to the hotel was long and I napped some more, startled awake when the car gave a blood-chilling jerk. My first thought, groggy and half-aware of where I was, was that we hit black ice and skidded or were still skidding. But the window showed a lake outside, frozen and glistening in the light and my parents were standing together at the shore. Something was in front of them with a hand on each shoulder, faceless and shimmering. My parents raptly stared at this mass and I watched as the blackness split into two equal clouds and slid slowly into my parents.

They stayed by the shore for another moment, their limbs jerking lazily, and then they turned back toward the car. They were smiling, but they weren't good smiles. It was like their flesh was clay and someone shoved their fingers in and molded it into a forced smile. I could've made something similar in art class, though it wouldn't look nearly as creepy as my parents.

The locks forcibly clicked, locking every door. I tugged on the handle, but it wouldn't budge; if these doors locked, dad had hit the button. He was the one who was driving, and he would be the one who had the keys. I crawl into the front seat, my knee slamming into the gearshift painfully, and search for the set of spare keys mom never remembered to put in the house. But she must have gotten around to it because it wasn't here, and I had run out of time.

Both were on the driver's side, that same sick smile pasted on their faces. And then they shook the side of the car, practically shoving it up on two wheels, and it got far enough that it began to roll. Dumbfounded, I looked at the gearshift that should be in park but noticed I had bumped it into neutral. Or that mass thing that hijacked my parents made it shift. Either way, I was on a slope and careening for the lake.

I crawl back into the backseat and search through my carry-ons. There was a paint scraper in my case and when my fingers latched to the blade, I swing the handle into the window. It bounces back, my panic growing, and then I do it again and again. The front wheels splash into the water and I jolt forward, the scraper slipping through my fingers.

I turn to the back window, pounding on it ineffectually with my fists. "Mom! Dad! Come get me, get me out of here! Please, don't let me drown!"

Water gurgled up over the trunk, splashing up onto the window, and their forms distorted. But when the water came completely over the window, I made out three distinct forms waving to the car. I sat back on the seat and kicked at the window, but it was still no use. Water was engulfing the car by the second and I could only sit here and watch the bubbles break for the surface. I wished I was in one so I could drift up to the surface.

By the time the water pressure had grown high enough to break the glass, I had already shoved the paint scraper into my neck. If I was going to die, alone, I wasn't going to suffocate. When someone found my body, weeks later, I was left alone in the mortuary. No one thought to monitor a dead teen's body.

The black mass found me. And then I found you.