The House Across The Lake

Have you seen me?

Have You Seen Me?:

Lucy Gardner:

Age:19

Race: Caucasion 

Height: 5'3

Weight:115 lbs.

Hair: Auburn 

Eyes: Hazel

Last seen October 31st, 2019

Reported wearing a Dark Blue Sweater, Jeans, and a Cat-Ear Headband.

Anyone with information regarding Lucy should contact 278-532-6674 or 1-800 Lost

                                                                                                    *** 

A room filled with the epileptic clashing of green and purple strobe lights welcomed us and my suspicions were confirmed. Students meshed against one another on the make-shift dance floor, an ugly linoleum space. The disorientation of the dancing student body reminded me of the stripes of a zebra or school of silverfish. The repeating "Monster Mash Song List" the title the DJ repeated fervently as if the crowd paid attention to his witty lead in's and spooky puns shook my teeth and hurt my ears. The party already raged as if fearing indolence.

The regular couches and tables clustered against the walls as a sort of social space bare of its socializers; a sad contrast the bustling center of the room.

Even before the five minutes ended, panic tickled the soles of my feet. Had Evan not pulled me into the horrid dancer's current along with her friends, I would have left almost immediately. I clutched onto this book until my palms scratched from lack of circulation. Still, I did not lessen my grip. Bodies squirmed against my mind, constricting my personal space, crushing my chest so that I couldn't breathe. In the chaos, I clung to the sight of Evan's white cocktail dress and shimmering halo as if she were the only boy in a sea stretching of rampant grey.

That room reminded me of a chasm before civilization, a primitive place where neither time or structure existed, animalistic.

I could imagine how much electricity pumped into the circuits of the room, working with desperation to keep the lively atmosphere alive. At one point, a fuse must have blown, for in an eerie sense of foreshadowing, the world around me darkened, and though the constraint of the crowd multiplied by a communal confusion. I felt loneliness different than the comfort of my solitude.

The general muttering of the crowd stirred somebody into action I think, for the door welcomed in a brief sliver of silver light. It was gone almost as soon as the idea fluttered in my throat, jump-started me into action. The stage quo was signaled, my much-welcomed exit was in sight. Even better, I could slip out without being noticed at all. I slithered my way in-between groups of people I hoped would not remember my face the next day. I trudged through what I thought was a straight line toward the phantom light.

I couldn't help but think of your face distorted by the shadows and yellows of our dollar store flashlight. Don't you think I would forget how you would sneak into my room by the green-go signal of our parent's snoring; you would carry that same flashlight with you and would tell me scary stories for hours. I would have nightmares for a week afterward and mom and dad would ground you almost every single time. Which never stopped you, naturally. Quite frankly, I was glad it didn't.

In my mind's eye, you turned off the flashlight with a familiar click and at the same time, the click of the overhead strobes shocked me back into that present.

The disappointment ringing in my ears was louder than the cheering of the crowd. The door was nowhere in sight. What was worse, I seemed to have accidentally pushed myself even closer to the center of the crowd, where the space between bodies was more constricted, the smell of cheap wine and overused body mist overpowering, stuffing my nose with a growing sense of panic. I looked for the white halo, signaling the location of my roommate, but any trace of her had disappeared when the lights flickered out.

I continued to search anyways, with my eyes at least, either for her halo, or the lost door, something to ground my anxiety. Until then I was frozen, I could not will my legs to move, my body scraped at the inside of my skin with an increasing chill, I wanted to crouch down right there, covering my head as if that would decrease my visibility. I wanted to be unseen just like when you and I used to play hide and seek. You always volunteered to seek first even though you knew I would hide in our bedroom closet. Every time, you searched the entire house first, upturning every cushion and exhausting all of the closed doors, until the very last moment. I could always feel it inside me, whenever you were near. I could always sense that my discovery was imminent, and only then would I crouch, covering my head, wishing not to be seen.

There I would remain, frozen, even after you had found me and our game would end.

Isn't it funny? How your body senses danger before it arrives? 

(To be Continued)