The wind mournfully moaned through the treetops against the backdrop of a silent winter's night, punctuated periodically by the frantic rustle and hard breath of the girl and her pursuer. Tammy Jensen ran through the remnants of thick underbrush, stumbling over roots and rocks. It was far removed from her 7th grade classroom, her friends, her pets. Aside from the blood pounding in her ears, all she could hear was her pursuer panting hungrily, angrily, as if muffled through a pillow. A sinewy hand reaching for her hair as she plunged ahead was all Tammy could see out of the corner of her eye as she turned her head to look over her shoulder.
Tammy's mind raced frantically to her Mother's admonitions to beware of strangers, to her vacation bible school teacher's assurances that angels watched out for, and protected children. She ran and ran, branches whipping her cheeks, hot breath exploding from her mouth in plumes of steam. Tears streamed down her face as she forged ahead, somehow realizing she would never have a boyfriend, never be given away by her father, never have that last, happy, tearful dance with him, never have children to love and care for, never. The only thing that existed was fear, cold fingers clutching inside her belly, a pit whose cold heat burned in her center.
Dad, she thought, why are you doing this to me? Frank Jensen had always seemed to care for his children. He would come home early from work on Friday's to help Tammy's mother Stephanie clean the house, would play with Tammy and her brother Joe. There was laughter, joy, trust. But something had happened to Frank and he became sullen, vindictive, mean. Tammy and Joe became wary of Frank, as did their mother. They tried to placate him, to act as he wanted them to, yet the more they tried to acquiesce to his demands, the angrier he seemed to get. His suggestions became demands, then commands. Attempting to proactively please him became a punishable offense. "Manipulation", he would call it and would say things, terrible things, that he had never said before.
Today was the worst yet. Frank had come home from work and pushed her mother to the floor when she leaned in to kiss him. She had left the house crying, probably going to her sister's house. She did not know that Tammy was home because Tammy was just pedaling up to the back of the house that Friday as Frank returned home. Tammy had just locked the bike to the rack when she heard her Mom greet Frank at the door. She had just rounded the corner to see the shove, and then her mother running out of the house in tears. "Dad?" she had asked quietly. "Stupid bitch", Frank muttered under his breath and then "What are you looking at? Go clean your room." About an hour later, as she was going through her collection of CD's and straightening everything up, she heard the phone ring and Frank angrily answering it.
"No, she is here, where she is supposed to be!" A pause, then, "What? Come on, don't be so dramatic, bring Joe home so he can clean up too." Another pause, a bit longer and then in a low, dangerous tone "Because I am their father, your husband, and you'd better get here. She is fine for now..." Tammy didn't like the way that sounded and began thinking that this time would be different, that Dad would not calm down, that there would be no uneasy peace in the house that night. "Tammy! Come here, I need to talk to you." Tammy shuddered and then steeled herself as she walked down the hall. Images of her Dad quickly flickered through her mind. Pushing her on the swing, laughing as they raced together, as family, to the car. Dad kissing Mom and Tammy and Joe being grossed out by the "old people love". She wanted her Dad back, and wanted the person who was here now, to leave.
"Yes Dad?" She asked quietly as she rounded the corner into the kitchen of the unremarkable, single level house that had been home as long as she could remember. "Your mother is going to go shopping with her sister." He spit out the last word contemptuously. "They have picked up Joe from school so he will not be able to help us clean. I want you to clean Joe's room, and scrub the bathrooms that your Mother should have. She'll have to make it up to me when she gets home." That last statement had made Tammy very uneasy for reasons she couldn't fully comprehend. Tears beginning to well in her eyes, Tammy made her way down the hall to Joe's room and began picking up with dread filling her. Tears flowed freely as Tammy picked up Joe's action figures and straightened his comics. All of the toys she put away were a bitter reminder of how "normal" their life used to be. When she had finished with straightening Joe's room, she went to start on the bathrooms, when Frank came down the hall for her.
Growling, he spat out "get over here, little flower, I need to talk to you about Mom." Her mind began racing as her feet rooted into the floor and her body froze. "Your mother is loosing her damn mind and I need to know you are not on her side." "Who loves you?" Frank asked. "You do Daddy." Tammy responded timidly. "Good glad that you.." Frank began. "...and so does Mom, and she loves y..." Tammy tried to continue, wanting desperately to somehow resurrect her "old" family. "You filthy little manipulator!" Frank roared and raised his hand to strike.
Suddenly, Tammy's feet seemed to think on their own, as she was whisked back down the hall, around the corner and out the back door. It was as if Tammy were watching the whole scene from elsewhere, since she was thinking of how best to obey Frank to placate him, as her feet carried her quickly away. Somehow, her flight took Frank by surprise so she managed to get her bike unlocked, even with severely shaking hands, and pedaled off down the street towards the park that had always been a happy place for her family, before he could reach her.
Tammy had pedaled across the field and into the woods as far as she could before dumping the bike and continuing on foot. Unfortunately, Frank also knew of this "happy place" and figured she would come here. It was he after all, who had shared his love of the outdoors with his children, and in days gone by, had helped make the park seem like a home away from home.
So that Friday evening, as the sun set, usually a time of peace and rest and happiness for Tammy's family, became changed into a horror. Everything was turning upside down, Dad the protector, finishing his transformation into a monster. The magical place, made into a hunting ground, a field of fear. Tammy, the beloved, changed into prey.