Clarissa shook her head at her sister’s insistence to talk again. She couldn’t keep clamping her hand over her mouth. The longer they hid in the closet, the more the terror ran through her. Each time a tiny tremor of fear slithered into her veins, she wanted to squeeze harder on her sister. She’d suffocate her before the night was over if she didn’t control her own panic. Marybeth was just a child—only five years old. She needed to put on a better brave front. She couldn’t let her fear overwhelm her.

“Shh, Marybeth. We can’t worry about it now. You know how Papa gets when he’s drinking.”

“But, Clarissa, he hasn’t been drinking tonight. I saw Momma pour the last bottle down the drain this morning.”

Clarissa rolled her eyes at her mother’s stupidity. No wonder he was in such a terror. He needed his liquor to control his rage, which was rather ironic to her, because the liquor also fueled his rage. In plain words, her papa was just a mean man. “Stop talking. If we have to spend the night in the coat closet, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Marybeth nodded, then whispered in a terrified voice, “Where’s Momma?”

“Calming down Papa. Now stop talking before I shut your mouth again.” Clarissa squeezed her eyes closed as she tried inhaling a bit of strength. She shouldn’t take her fear out on Marybeth. But it remained difficult, especially with the day she had. Why couldn’t anything ever go right for her? Two more years. Two more years in this frightful house before she could hightail it out on her own.

Then she felt Marybeth shiver in her arms, knowing, in that moment, it didn’t matter she only had two years left. She couldn’t leave Marybeth here alone with her parents. One drunk papa and a dumb mother to boot. It never used to be like this either. Nope. It all started when they moved into this house five months ago. Her papa lost his job, and then the drinking started. Funny thing, she didn’t blame it on him losing his job. She blamed the house.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream ripped throughout the house, zapping Clarissa straight to the bones. She wrapped her arms tighter around Marybeth as they shook together in horror.

“What was that, Clarissa?” Marybeth whispered so softly Clarissa almost didn’t hear her.

“I don’t know, Marybeth. Something not good. Just be quiet. And don’t make any more sounds.”

Clarissa scooted farther into the closet, hitting the wall without moving two inches. She couldn’t scoot any farther if she tried. They had nowhere to go. Her papa rarely raised his hands to them, only starting that in the last few weeks. His rage mostly entailed rapid hollering and spit flying. She could only assume that screaming was her mother, enduring a beating she never endured before. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t let her papa act like this anymore. If her mother wouldn’t do the right thing, then Clarissa would do it for her.

Shuffling her hand silently around the closet, she felt the baseball bat she knew would be in the corner not far from where they sat curled into a ball of panic. She gripped the handle of the bat with an intense fury and blew out a breath. “Stay here, Marybeth. No matter what.”

She pushed her sister into the corner and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound either. Just stay here.”

She started to reach for the handle when Marybeth whispered, “Don’t leave me, Clarissa.”

“I’ll be right back. I have to check on Momma. Just be quiet.” Clarissa twisted the knob and slowly opened the door, carefully going inch by inch to avoid the loud creaking sound the door liked to make. She flinched when a small screech perforated the air. But to her horror, another loud scream belted throughout the house. With no concern for herself anymore, she dashed out of the closet, closing the door with quiet ease, and made her way to the foot of the stairs. Taking them two at a time, the bat dangling from her hands, she rushed to the bedroom where she thought the scream came from. Gripping the bat harder, she walked inside, ready to defend her mother.

* * *

Marybeth crouched into a small ball, wrapping her arms around her knees as she waited for Clarissa to return. She tried really hard to keep her small cries inside, but she couldn’t help it. The minute Clarissa left, another loud scream rang out. She couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. She’d never been so scared in her life. She was afraid she would wet her pants. And she hadn’t done that for a whole year, and the pride every time she woke up with a clean, dry bed made her feel like a really big girl. She needed to be a big girl now.

She screamed slightly when she heard a loud thud and another scream echo throughout the house. She tried to scoot farther back, almost as if she could melt into the wall, but her back hit resistance. She clamped her own hand over her mouth when she heard heavy footsteps descend the stairs. Her tiny cries muffled through her fingers, the sound impossible to stop.

A tiny shriek left her mouth when the closet door whipped open. Her papa stood with a smile on his face and his eyes…his eyes glossed over in a madness she’d never seen before.

He held his hand out to her. “Follow me, sweet darling.”

* * *

October 15, 2015

Bowman’s Residence ~ Now Stratten’s Residence

The lightning flashed across the night sky. Emerging without notice, ominous shadows danced with the rain heavily pouring down, disappearing just as suddenly as darkness descended again. The thunder roared in unison, creating a perfect scene from a horror story.

Sarah could hear the thunder knocking on her door. The constant booms made her jump, yet she remained oblivious of the terror swirling around her. If she knew, the slight tremor in her hand would be far worse than simply losing power. Blocking out the thunder as best she could, she continued frantically searching her kitchen drawer for her flashlight.

“Finally!” She grabbed the flashlight as another loud boom shook the house. Jumping from the sound, a hand dashed to her chest in fright. The flashlight nearly fell from her other unsteady hand.

Why did it have to storm tonight? Daniel should be here celebrating her new promotion, but he decided he would rather be with his secretary filing reports. Their relationship had been rocky for the past few months. Why was she surprised?

She hated storms since childhood. She couldn’t precisely pinpoint when the fear started, but her whole body would convulse into panic anytime a storm passed through. Her mind didn’t want to think about Daniel. But concentrating on him made the storm brewing outside not seem as terrible. Taking short, even breaths, she tried to clear her mind of everything and attempted to turn on the flashlight.

“No, please work.” When no light illuminated, she started rummaging through the drawer.

Thump!

A loud noise from upstairs made her hop in place. Glancing at the ceiling, her fingers nearly dropped the flashlight again. What was that?

She tried taking a few more deep breaths to calm down, but it wasn’t working. Her mind started to swirl, almost making her dizzy. And she had no light. The darkness held the unknown. Vivid pictures of monsters lurking emerged as the slices of fear sparked within her. She hated the dark, just as she hated storms. The night had felt peculiar the minute the storm whirled in an hour ago.

Stop scaring yourself silly! She went back to her task. After a few more seconds of digging, she finally found the small plastic container that held her batteries covered by all of her paperwork she had meant to file all week. She needed to organize better, but she had been working late nights due to her promotion. Perhaps it was for the best Daniel decided to move on. She wouldn’t have much time for him anyway. The obvious was staring her in the face—they just weren’t meant for each other.

Opening the container, she sighed in relief when she saw she had just enough batteries. She quickly unscrewed the flashlight, and with shaky hands, pulled two batteries out.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Her eyes shot to the ceiling again. This time it sounded as if someone was shoving heavily at her dresser. It was big, handmade out of oak, with eight drawers. She had a difficult time moving it herself.

A deep worry formed, routing its way to the pit of her stomach. Someone was in her house. But how did they get in?

She shuffled the batteries, and after three attempts, she had light.

She should check upstairs. She needed to know if someone was here.

No. No, she shouldn’t check. She should be getting the hell out of the house if an intruder was with her.

A mystifying sensation wrapped around her, calling to her. Go check upstairs.

She had the odd feeling to turn the light back off, thinking she would be safer, but her finger made no move to the switch. The feeling swirled inside, making her feel unnatural. She took a few deep breaths, unaware that she had started to move with the light leading the way.

“Ok. Nothing’s there. It’s just thunder.” She jerked in surprise when she noticed she had made her way to the foot of the stairs.

That didn’t sound right coming out of her mouth, but her feet made no attempt to turn around. As she climbed the stairs, the thunder cracked madly as a door slammed. She jumped, almost losing her footing on the steps.

“There’s nobody here. I’m sure I left a window open. It’s just the wind.” She paused. “No, wait. I’m sure I didn’t do that. This is crazy.”

She turned to make her way back downstairs when that nagging feeling whispered to her to keep climbing.

Go check upstairs.

Forced to ignore the warning bells, Sarah made it to the top, then turned toward her bedroom.

Wait. Why didn’t she call the cops? This was stupid. She couldn’t be imagining this, could she?

Tickling her ear, whispers kept urging her forward. Go check it out.

Although she kept trying to stop, she had no control. She knew this was wrong.

Slowly, she opened the door, inch by inch.

A dark hand from inside the room grabbed her arm. Her scream pierced the night.

Copyright © 2015 Amanda Siegrist.

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