Page 19 of Claimed by the Fallen
I rub my chest, recalling the Monday three months later when Zeke stopped showing up to kickboxing class. The new instructor took over our instruction, and I never saw Zekeagain.
I think my heart may have broken a little that day. I can’t explain why, but I felt like Zeke and I had a connection. Maybe it was the draw of two quiet, introverted souls to one another, or maybe it was something more. Whatever the case, I’m destined to never find out. I asked the studio owner and workers what happened to Zeke, but no one could tell me anything. Apparently, he just disappeared without saying a word to anyone. It was the strangestthing.
Shaking my head, I clear my mind of the memories. Zeke is gone. I don’t even know what caused me to dwell on thoughts ofhim.
I plop onto my bed and turn on the T.V. I feel cooped up, and I hope I can find something to distract me. The pain in my body has dulled to a low cadence. With any luck, it will be gone by tomorrow so I can take my dad up on the offer to go to the studio. I drink another glass of ginger ale and swallow six crackers. I switch the channels until I land on a rom-com, petting Peri who is content to nap on my bed, and will time to flyby.
Eight
Iendup having the most tedious Sunday afternoon ever. I spend hours watching cheesy movies and dumb reality T.V. shows. There really isn’t anything interesting on cable before sixo’clock.
Bored of television, I attempt to complete a Sunday school lesson. Annie had texted me the lesson details after I missed church. She and I had been going to the same church since we were five, and she knows how much I like learning about the bible in Sunday school. That is not to say I don’t like sermons, just that I get more out of reading and analyzing biblical text on my own. The insightful lessons feel more rewarding than simply sitting in a pew and being talked at. But that’s just myopinion.
I read through Daniel: Chapter Ten twice before I tell myself I will complete the lesson tomorrow. I’m feeling better, but I’m too distracted to decipher the cryptic, prophetic words archangel Michael delivered to the son of David. My chest chooses that moment to clench again, and it takes several steadying breaths before the muscles return to a relaxedstate.
I’m browsing through the shows on the video streaming app when my mom raps on the doorframe. I’d opened the door a while ago when Peri signaled she wanted out of the room. She’d been back and forth a couple of times, so I figured it was smart to leave it open rather than waste energy climbing out of bed every time shewhined.
“Knock, knock.” Mom enters. “Up for anothersnack?”
On cue, my stomach grumbles. Mom smiles brightly. “Well, that’s a good sign!” She moves closer and hands me a bowl of soup, positioned on a plate with aspoon.
Normally, I’d say it is too hot to enjoy the warm meal, but a slight chill still lingers in my body. The aroma of tomato and basil fills my nostrils, increasing my hunger. On cue, Peri trots inside. She lifts her snout towards my soup. She probably followed the scent all the way from the kitchen. I tell her to sit as Mom hands me thebowl.
“Thanks, Mom.” I lift the spoon and stir the soup, accelerating the process of melting the cheese ontop.
“Still feeling better?” She sits on the edge of my bed, watching as I put a spoonful of soup into my mouth. Peri, also, watches. She licks her chops, eager for me to spill some soup on the floor. She knows that’s the only way she will get any human food without stealingit.
“Yes,” I reply after swallowing. This time, I’m being one-hundred percent honest, and I have no ulterior motive. I almost feel normal, aside from the lingering chill and sporadic muscle contractions in mychest.
“That’s great, honey.” Mom runs her hands over my quilt, smoothing the fabric. “Your dad and I are going to run to the grocery store really quick. Is there anything you want us to get for you while we’reout?”
I chew my lip as I think. “Chips and salsa for a snack this week? The hot flavor if they have it.” I love spicyfood.
“Will do.” She pats my leg and stands. “Want me to leave the door open forPeri?”
“Yes, please.Thanks.”
Mom leaves and I resume eating the soup. Dad pops his head in to check on me, too. Minutes later, I hear the front door close when they leave for thestore.
Finished eating, I put the bowl on my nightstand. I reach for the television remote to switchchannels.
Right as I click the button and the volume goes silent, I hear a thump that sounds like it comes from downstairs. I stiffen. My first thought is Peri must’ve knocked something over, but one glance confirms she is laying on the ground beside mybed.
Fear threatens to take hold, but I attempt to reason with myself. The noise probably came from the icemaker or some other innocuous household item. Still, I mute the T.V. and hold my breath, straining to hear anythingelse.
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear another thump, followed by a muffled curse, “Damn”.
My hands fly over my mouth to smother my gasp.Someone is in myhouse!
Peri lifts her head and growls toward the open door. I shush her, holding out the hand signal which supports my verbal command. I scurry out of bed, and I have to balance myself against the nightstand before feeling returns to my immovablelegs.
My breath comes in short spurts. I continue to listen for movement as I creep into the hallway. I am almost out of my room when I reach back to grab the softball bat standing against my dresser. I’m glad I didn’t throw the aluminum bat away when I quit the sport more than five yearsago.
I adjust my grip and keep my back against the wall, moving towards the staircase. I peer over the wooden banister and lean forward when I don’t see anything rightaway.
There.
A shadow moves across the living room wall, but I manage to keep the surprised cry from passing my lips. I bite my cheek as my chesttightens.
