Can You Hear the Stars Calling?

Night Terrors

I wasn't listening anymore. My mind was caught on that last word. Safe. It meant everything to me. Safe. I repeated to myself over and over again. Safe. 

***
The rest of the week went in a slow haze, each day blurred together. Every day was the same. Get up, eat, stretch, and lazy about, waiting for my stitches to heal. A few days more and they could come out Sam told me. 

Some days Sam was here and some she wasn't. I didn't know where she went, but she was gone from the time I ate in the morning to the time dinner was finished.

Milo never left like Sam did. And even ever if he would, I doubted that both he and Sam would ever be gone at the same time.

Over the days, when Sam was at the house, her eyes were glued on me. I swore I felt heat marks from the way her stare bored into the back of my head.

"I'm not going anywhere." I joked with Sam one afternoon. We sat on both of the couches across from each other. I'd chosen a book from an extensive bookshelf I found hidden under the stairs in the basement and tried my best to find entertainment in the boring words. People are always saying how a good book and a rainy day are the perfect combination after all.

But after a few minutes of not being able to focus on one paragraph, I was on the verge of giving up. Reading never clicked in my brain. The idea of 'getting lost in a good book' was beyond me. How anyone found joy in sitting for hours at a time and staring at a page was incomprehensible.

Sam's stare eased suddenly and she smiled, leaning back into the couch. "I can't help it if I'm worried about you. Can you blame me?" She fiddled with the loose strand from the worn couch looking occupied by something else.

I sighed and rested my temple on my palm, setting the open book on my lap. She was right. Even if the last few days had been easygoing, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread in my stomach. I had to people here to protect me, but thinking back to the night in the hospital...

What he did to Sam. To my mom. And almost to me. Fear flooded my brain just thinking about it. But I pushed the thoughts out of my head. 

I lifted my head. "Don't worry, I'm here, Sam. With you and Milo," I put the book down next to me and switched couches to sit next to her. Grabbing her hand, I assured her, "I'm alright."

Her returning smile didn't reach her eyes. "Right," She stood up. "But it doesn't hurt to be safe. I'm going out again. Tell Milo I won't be home for dinner tonight, okay?"

I shook my head slightly, but still answered, "Sure. Please be careful, Sam. Wherever you go. I want you to be safe, too."

She only squeezed my hand one more time before walking out the front door into the cloudy day.

I didn't see her that night. Nor the next day. Milo tried his best to distract me with dusty board games and stories of his harrowing adventures, but I couldn't shake the sinking feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach.

I slept restlessly the next night, tossing and turning in the bed until the sheets wrapped themselves tightly around my body and I woke up in a cold sweat.

I looked out the window and saw that it was still dark outside.

Too dark.

Clouds covered the sky, hiding away the moon. The small patter of raindrops sounded on the window. The sound used to calm me, but right now it made me uneasy.

I looked at the open door anxiously. The hallway light was on when I'd gone to bed, I was sure of it.

A sheen of sweat covered my forehead. My clammy hands reached toward the lamp drawstring and tugged. Nothing.

I pulled harder, but the light refused to turn on.

What's going on?

Heart pounding, I slowly drew back the covers and slipped out of bed to creep toward the door. I poked my head out the door frame. The hallway was pitch black. No moonlight found it's way through the thick layer of clouds and out into the hall.

Slowly making my way across the carpet, I crept down the hall to Milo's room. His door was open slightly but there wasn't any light coming from his room either.

Pushing the door open, I peeked in. His bed, barely visible over the maze of his treasures, was empty.

My heartbeat skyrocketed. Where is he? Did something happen to him? Did Mateo come back? Suddenly the vow I'd made to myself about being ready for him seemed very, very foolish.

Breathing became harder. It felt like there was a weight pushing down on my chest. Ragged breaths shook my body's frame and I struggled to keep upright. The sound of thunder ricocheted throughout the house. Loud. Too loud! Stop the sound! Stop. Stop.

I gasped and fell against the open door. The fall slammed the door against the wall and caused a loud sound to echo down the hall.

He's here. He's coming. He's going to get me. To take me away and kill me.

I gasped in shallow breaths wanting to call for Sam. To call for Milo. To do anything to make everything stop. But I just slumped to the ground wheezing.

A shadowy figure appeared at the end of the hall from the kitchen.

He's here. He's here. He's here. He's here. He's here. Oh god. Oh god. I couldn't stop the thoughts from pouring out. Help me. Help me. Help me, please. Over and over again they came. 

The shadow rushed toward me. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Please! Make it all stop!

I turned my body over onto my stomach, trying to crawl away. Bile suddenly rose in my throat and a panic shook my frame. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. I-I-...