Powering OFF

7

Trapped
——-
My parents are supposed to be visiting today. Since the last time we've spoken, mom told me the break-ins have slowed down. The last report was at the beginning of October.

WGR says not to stress over the occurrences that have been happening around the house.

The pharmacy doesn't even return my calls anymore. When I try to talk to someone in person, they say my name and records aren't in the system and that they'd have to enter it all again manually.

As I load this week's groceries into my car, my head fills with possible reasons why my AC unit could've malfunctioned. I still don't understand how it managed to drop thirty-five degrees all by itself.

I'm so tired of things not making sense.

When I turn onto my street, I notice a car in the driveway. My mom's car. They've come earlier than they said they would.

I still haven't told my parents about the strange things that have been happening around the house. I hope that I don't have to.

My faith in the company is still there. That these "glitches" are only temporary and there wouldn't be anything to worry about.

After all, my parents don't know that I've run out of my pills. If I ramble on about a creepy security system, they'll know something's up.

Mom grins and waves at me when my Jeep pulls up next to hers. All three of us exit our cars at the same time and greet each other.

"Surprise!" she shouts. "We're here earlier that we said we would be!"

"Yes, I can see that." Dad drags his feet closer to me. "Let me get a good look at my snowflake."

"How about we exchange our looks inside." I point to the door and motion them towards it.

Ignoring the keypad, I use my key to open the front door. My parents are chattering behind me.

We all take a seat in the living room.

"It's a little toasty in here, don't you think?" Dad pretends to wipe sweat off of his forehead while mom chuckles.

"I'm fine actually. I'm always cold," I tell them.

"But, I could turn down the heat for you guys, if you want?" Before I jump up to change the thermostat, Dad waves for me to sit down.

"No, it's fine. Stay right there."

The two of them survey my house, while I sit uncomfortably on the recliner. The Tylenol must be wearing off. I can feel my back tightening up.

"I see you've decided on a security system," Dad chortles.

"Yes, I felt like it was necessary to go ahead and choose one." The two of them nod. "Understandable," says Dad.

"I remember when you were younger. You would need us to calm you down whenever you felt unsafe and started panicking. Now, look at you!"

"You have your own house, job, and you're making your own decisions effortlessly! You're growing up and becoming independent. My precious snowflake."

Dad gave me this nickname because he says it describes me perfectly. 'Fragile to the touch, but as beautiful and unique as ever.'

Mom takes my dad's hand and grins. "Did you ever hear anything back from the pharmacy?" My jaw clenches.

"Yeah. It's all taken care of." The sentence starts off as strong but ends in a whisper.

Mom pushes herself forward on the couch before speaking again. "Are you sure?"

I nod a little harder than I should.

"Well, I have been informed that there is something called an emergency drug supply which may help if you ever get yourself into a situation where you can't get your prescription on time."

"If I'm not mistaken, you'll just need an old prescription bottle or confirmation from your doctor."

"Wow, that's great! Thanks for telling me!"

Mom smiles, taking a side of her shawl and wrapping it around before it can slip off of her arms.

We go on talking for an hour until I realize that all of my grocery bags from earlier are inside of the trunk. "Hey, I forgot to bring the groceries in. I'll be right back."

Dad once again waves for me to stay seated.

"We were just about to leave anyway." They both stand up and get ready to give their 'goodbye hugs.'

Although I hated lying to them, I'm really glad my parents came today. Mom definitely saved me by telling me about the drug supply.

Hopefully, my life can start making sense again.

***

A full week had gone by without any mysterious surprises from the security system, but my back is still unimaginably sore.

My spinal cord is lit on fire. The only thing that can put out the flames is the pain relievers I stocked up on after work.

I take mom's advice by checking up on the emergency supply. When I call the pharmacy this time, I'm told that my name and records are now back online.

My suspicions rise when they tell me that my prescription is available. 

That means all I have to do is slip on my jacket and come get the medicine I've been needing for almost a month now.

Yet, when I get to the front door, I struggle with opening it.

Am I really this weak?

I tug on the doorknob again, this time with more effort. It still won't budge. Whether I turn the manual locks or punch the buttons on the keypad, I'm unable to unlock the door.

That tingly butterfly feeling I get before having a panic attack, it's happening. I hold my hand on my chest, taking deep breaths.

Scanning the rest of the room, my eyes stop on the patio door. I can't believe I'm thinking about this.

The only exit I have left is through those doors. I may have to circle around the house from the backyard.

This is ridiculous, but I don't have any other options. I promptly make my way over to the doors on the other side of the living room.

The patio doors won't budge either. After three tries, goosebumps form all over my arms.

I hear a voice. A thunderous, terrifying voice that sounds like both a machine and human merged together. The voice penetrates my ears and echoes "POWERING OFF."