Page 42 of Under the Bed

I won’t?—

I have this.

Whatever comes, I have this.

I’m not scared. I asked for it.

In a rare act of courage, I forced my father’s hand to let me come back here. I asked to be close to Kaleb.

Now that I have what I wanted, I can’t lose my shit.

Dying won’t be the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through.

My fingers curl around the door’s side, and I slide it open. Gray light shines into my eyes. I squint, searching for Kaleb in my room.

No one’s here.

No formidable man taking up the entire space of my bedroom. No cleaver wielded in a big hand. No one hauling me out of the closet, towards my would-be killer.

I’m alone, and yet the strange feeling intensifies. A lasso cinching around my midsection, dragging me forward. The pull is strong. Undeniable.

Where is he?

The phone’s alarm has stopped ringing. It’ll start over in a few minutes. I go over to the bed and turn it off. Sneaking a glance out of my bedroom and then the rest of my empty apartment.

It’s possible that he left. That this is just part of a mind game, a different form of revenge.

He isn’t here to tell me what the finger means. What this silence means.

He has plans for me. Cruel ones. Painful ones.

Later. I’ll take his punishment piece by piece when he makes himself known.

Until then, I have to get ready for the day.

The pit of my stomach is covered in lead as I head back to my closet and pick the finger off the floor. I carry it to the kitchen, storing it in the same ice pack where the other two, smaller ones, rest. The gifts Kaleb gave me forever ago.

In another lifetime.

I sigh, treading back into my bedroom and from there, my bathroom. My nose scrunches, picking up a clean scent.

He showered here.

The lead at the bottom of my stomach weighs me down further. I grab the doorframe, fighting to stay upright. Fighting to catch my breath.

What else did he do while I was out of it?

Did he stand there, listening to me fucking his mask?

My reflection stares back at me from the vanity mirror. My wide eyes. Pale complexion. Slack jaw. I thought I was ready for what he had planned for me.

Laughable. Look at me. Hyperventilating. A mess.

I have to get out of here. Need to get outside, get some fresh air. Rearrange my thoughts.

But first, shower. I can’t show up to school looking like I’m two steps away from a meltdown.

Ten minutes later, I’m wrapped in a towel, crossing the room.

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