Page 21 of Under the Bed

In my darkest, loneliest moments, I’ve been thinking of him. How he could’ve hurt me and didn’t.

That maybe he would’ve, had I done the wrong thing. Like he killed Lee and Connor for hurting me. If I’d hurt him, he could’ve taken his anger out onme.

Shaking my head, I go back inside my home. Where it’s warm. Safe. I’ll have to focus on my studies, then I won’t think of anything and anyone.

I slide the glass door shut behind me, padding on my socks across the living room. Past the white couches and the glass coffee table.

My footsteps are silent on the oak wood floors, then the patterned white rug, as I make my way to the kitchen. The cupboards are just as white as the rug, the couches, and the marble countertop.

White, the color of his mask.

Dad hated my obsession with him. The endless questions.

When will he be back? Are you sure he would’ve hurt me too? I miss him, Daddy. I know it’s wrong, and I don’t understand it. Help me. Help him. Please, Daddy. Help us.

He wouldn’t.

Instead of helping, I was beaten up during the fall, spring, and summer breaks I spent at home.

No more.

Just when I set my mug in the dishwasher, my phone rings. I screech and hate myself for it. For being jittery.

“Everything’s fine,” I tell myself. “Your head is a mess as always. That’s all there is to it.”

My phone flashes from the coffee table, the name on it relaxing my tense muscles altogether.

Val, one of my two remaining friends from when I lived here.

The few video calls with her and Marina were my last tether to this place.

I appreciated Val for trying. I respected Marina for joining our calls, even though I could tell she never liked me. I was demonized at my old school, blamed for the two kids’ deaths. I also understood why I wasn’t her favorite person.

“Hey, Val.” Emotionally drained, I drop onto the couch. My classes ended at noon today, but this month has been exhausting. And it’s not even nine. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um…” For a long, tense beat, she’s silent. “I take it you haven’t watched the news today.”

She isn’t asking. She isn’t saying it, either.

She’s whispering. Her voice trembles. It never does that.

Instantly, I’m on high alert, my spine straightening.

I hate the news. Hate everything about it. My stepbrother’s face was splashed on every channel before Dad contacted the press and killed every report on us a day after.

He runs a tech empire, holds patents in multiple fields. He’s always on the lookout for new companies to acquire, and his connections run deep. He’s everywhere.

Before he managed to do it, they put Kaleb’s photo next to mine. They called us freaks. Monsters.

“I’ve been…” My hand trembles as I reach for the remote. I don’t grab it. Can’t. “I’ve been catching up on reading school material.”

“You’ll need to watch it. In a minute.” Val sucks in a long breath. I imagine she’s at home, her hand brushing through her long blonde strands. Her green eyes must be blinking rapidly. She does that when she’s nervous.

My hand closes into a tight fist, nails digging into my palm. My eyes are on the three deadbolts on my door. Locked. I locked them when I came home. Checked they’re set in place three times.

“In a minute?” A thought crosses my mind. If something terrible happened, wouldn’t Dad call me? Probably not. He hasn’t so much as messaged me since I blackmailed him last summer. I shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t care if I live or die anymore. “What’s going on?”

“Fuck,” she hisses. “Fuck. Okay. There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just going to come out with?—”

---