A/N: Oh my god...people are still reading my trash? I mean, story, ahaha. Honestly, I feel proud of my work today, I've improved much from the past. I'm so happy that you have reviewed! (I'll reply to Guest reviews in the end of each chapter)
Sydney (Guest) - Haha, I know, I've abandoned this story for quite awhile, haven't I? Well, my obsession for ROTG has been rekindled, so hopefully I can stay with this story for long! Thanks for reviewing old friend!
~Chapter 4~
Amara has grown to live with the monsters hiding her bed. She had to.
They were waiting for her, the very moment she stepped into her first foster home. Recalling the uncomforting shade of blue that served as the house's skins, its window-eye like eyes that stared down at Amara when she stepped out of the car, and the two bare naked trees that stood at either side of the yard that reached into the sky like skeleton hands, Amara knew that it was a monster's house.
At the time, her six year old mind couldn't comprehend the fact that her mother was gone for good, or that the monster house she was supposed to live in was temporary until she had to move into another one. She didn't understand why the men-in-black who drove her to her 'new home' never told her where her mother went.
She didn't know she was destined for a life of never-ending change.
The men in black left her with a simple elderly couple and their many cats that roam around making it a secret cat society. She didn't like the couple. Whispery voices, beady eyes bulging through thick rimmed glasses, wrinkly faces that hide their every expressions, and worse of all, not Mommy, Amara wondered where her mother went that was so much more important than her.
That was also the first night where she had to sleep alone, in the creeky and cobwebbed attic, full of shadow monsters clinging to the corners, the antique furnitures, peering into the thinly glass paned windows. The couple ignored Amara's claims of the monsters living in the attic, waving it off as imagination.
So there Amara lay, wide awake in the darkness.
Many things were missing from the room. The comforting orange glow of the smiley jack-o-lantern shaped nightlight, the absence of Amara's stuffed animal army that she and her mother would place around the bed to defend them from the monsters, and most heart-wrenching of all, the lack of her mother's warmth besides Amara in her Spiderman-themed bedsheets.
All Amara had was Lopsy, her stuffed koala bear with fuzzy red fur and an oversized head that always looked lopsided on his body, earning his namesake.
"We're gonna have to wait for mommy, right Lopsy?" Amara whispered, cupping her small hand to his non-existent ear.
Lopsy only stared back with his wide beady black eyes.
And then They came. He came.
All the way across her bed, there is a huge wooden wardrobe, dusty and unused, hoarded by the elderly couple. Unbearingly, the door is ajar, revealing a crack of the neverending darkness. No matter how many times Amara attempted to shut the door, it always bounced back open. All Amara could do was stare the wardrobe down, Lopsy in her tight embrace.
The dreaded golden-orange eyes Amara came to dread so much ever since the dawn of childhood, popped open in the depths of the wardrobe.
Don't talk. Stay close to Lopsy. An unsaid childhood code was ingrained into little Amara's head. As long as she could be brave like Mommy taught her, to not be scared of the Boogeyman, than he would never hurt her!
Her knees curled close to her chest, and crouching behind Lopsy's oversized head for protection, Amara silently watched a shadowy figure step out of the wardrobe. The shadows casted from the moonlight clung to the figure, as if a cloud was forming around the very stranger himself. Willing herself not to scream because Mommy would have never wanted her to, Amara with heavy breathing, could only watch the Boogeyman wander around her room.
The way he walked was confusing to Amara's eyes. His body twitched and spasmed, moving in odd ways little Amara never witnessed a person moved. His movements were quite sloppy, as he wobbled uneasily through the attic. Particularly, the Boogeyman did everything he could to avoid the moonlight piercing through the single open window. All the while, there was no sign he noticed Amara.
Thinking she was about safe, Amara began to slowly uncurl out of her protective ball.
He turned to her, golden eyes flaring in the darkness.
This time, Amara cried out.
A new color spreaded on the Boogeyman's face - white. She saw his horrible too long teeth, almost looking sharp, yet still somehow retaining human quality. His being moved forward to Amara's direction, until he was right beside her bed side.
Pounding. Pounding overran Amara's little head, her heart just about to burst. No Mommy present, thin blanket sheets, and shaking racketing through her body, she realized that it suddenly became very, very cold. She ducked behind Lopsy, her only defense left. However, even her beloved furry friend wasn't able to defend her.
Easily, it was plucked out of her weak grasp by the Boogeyman. Carelessly, he threw it to the side. A sob rose out of Amara, one she held back for so long, watching her stuffed animal bounced uselessly on the floor. With all of her might, she wanted to close her eyes, so, so badly, but they only stayed open as they gaped at the towering Boogeyman.
The shrouded darkness masking his face, melts away, revealing a deathly pale face. His sickly golden eyes - reminding Amara something of the color of a rotten colored banana, stared down at her with an unplaced greediness. Greasy black hair is slicked back on his head, glossy and spiky. His lips are bared back still revealing his terrifying smile. Quivering, Amara did not say a single word, she didn't dare to. The Boogeyman leaned down slightly, hands clasped behind his back. The only feature visible were those glowing eyes.
"All alone now, are you?" He grinned, almost teasing.
Amara stayed silent.
"Come now, you know that your mommy dearest is gone."
Amara's eyes snapped to him. Feeling red hot anger surged into her head, and she straightened her back. "N-no," She heard herself argue. "She isn't you big fat liar!"
"Liar, am I?" He chuckled. He shook his head as if he were a know it all, the Boogeyman raised a pale finger. He twirled it around, something forming at the tip of the finger. "She left you. She left you because she doesn't love you anymore. Isn't that sad? Your beloved Mommy no longer loves you."
"Liar!" Amara repeated, clenching the folds of her blanket. "Liar, liar, liar!" A defense mechaniscm to combat against his words, Amara knew that it couldn't be true. But doubt, doubt like a worm eating away at an apple's core, nibbled away inside her. It was a strong, annoying itch, one Amara couldn't reach.
A sneer took up his pale face. Clucking his teeth, Amara saw strange black like sand forming above the Boogeyman's still twirling finger. "Stubborn. Annoying." His palm opened up, revealing a handful of fluid, sleek, and glossy black sand. They looked somewhat pretty, but Amara's child instincts knew they were vibrating with something sinister. "It is way past bedtime for little children like you. How about you go to sleep, little one." His hand lowered to Amara's face.
The sand slithered all over his hand like a snake on the prowl, alive and pulsating.
Amara backed away, a survival instinct honed into her mind that she had to get away.
But she was trapped. The Boogeyman released the sand into Amara's eyes. Coldness sank into eyes, as it wormed its way under her very eyelids. This time, Amara really screamed, and tried desperately to scratch the deadly sand out of her eyes. Shadows only visible at that point, Amara heard the echoing laughter of the monster. The coldness wasted no time digging into Amara's head, a cold and unrelenting grasp. The cold forced Amara to feel sleepiness.
The monster hushed Amara of her terrified screaming, his bony hands ran through her hair. "Shhh, go to sleep." He sang softly, however it was laced with cruel enjoyment, nothing close to the comforting words of her Mommy's. "Sweet dreams, little one. Oh! But there won't be anymore…." Five, ten, fifteen, a high number that six year old Amara couldn't even count up to at the time, spoke all at once from the monster.
In unison, the many voices from the monster all laughed at once, as Amara faded away into dreams of darkness.
In present day, eleven year old Amara wonders at this point of something like the Boogeyman was ever real.
There are things worse than the Boogeyman. Things scarier than some creeper hiding in your closets. Amara tells herself, sitting wide awake in bed. Unconsciously, she grabs her ever loyal Lopsy that stayed by her side for all of these years. Patches of his fur were missing, and the stuffed animal was worn from years of love and hugging. No matter how ugly Lopsy looks at this point, Amara never considered the thought to throw him away.
Hugging Lopsy close to her chest, she ignores the fact that if this were true, then why was there still some underlying dread when it came to sleeping? A deep, untouchable pain of hunger roils around inside her stomach, from lack of eating. Wincing, Amara turns to her right side.
Although sleepiness tugs at her eyes, Amara fights to stay awake.
Sleeping meant never waking up for her. Sleeping meant being put into a fancy box and being buried in the ground. Sleeping meant God taking you away when you least expected it.
Her eyes trail over to the single digital clock sitting in the pitifully bare desk from the right rise of her bed. Its glowing green digits shows the time near midnight. For a few minutes, Amara engages in the mindless activity of fooling around with her loose tooth in the back of her mouth. It's been there for weeks, a painful presence. But telling her parents about the tooth equals going to the dentist. And they're going to tell me to give it to the Tooth Fairy or something. Stupid.
Once the activity of wobbling her aching tooth became too unbearable, she props herself up, taking out out a magazine from Best Buy. She didn't need to rely on some stupid made up Santa Claus to bring her any gifts - her parents are there to give her the presents. Scouring through various pages filled with the cameras of Amara's dreams, sleep is more protesting.
Slapping her cheeks, Amara shakes her head violently. She absolutely can't sleep!
I don't want to end up like May...she went to sleep.
A foreign burning sensation flares up behind Amara's eyes, something annoying yet hurting at the same time. Rubbing her eyes, Amara stares out of the window. She wonders. What did 'dying' feel like? Wincing from the memory of the disastrous dinner she had with her parents, Amara felt the subject was forbidden by the grown-ups. May went to sleep, and that was that. But did she feel pain? Why did she have to go to sleep? Is it because of the Sandman?
A gnarled place growing in Amara's heart clenches, recalling yet another magical figure.
Not real. Not real at all.
The calling of sleep that is an essential need calls out to Amara, as her head nods up. She now knows what it felt to be Lopsy - an extremely heavy head that keeps on rolling to the side. I wanna watch TV. Encouraged by this new mission, Amara throws the covers off her legs. Her feet landing on the cool wooden floor, Amara creeps outside the hallway, as quietly as possible.
A childish fear still tugging at her heart from the fear of darkness awaiting her in the hallways, to Amara's secret relief and surprise, she sees the familiar lights of the dining hall shining from the staircase leading downstairs. Voices - voices of her parents - are heard in spouts of shouts and trying-to-be-quiet whispers.
Glad that she didn't need to bear through the night alone, Amara walks to the staircase, full of eager. However, as she got closer, Amara hears its-and-bits of pieces of her parents' conversation from below the dining hall.
"...what is the matter with you…"
"Isa...don't think...can't handle this anymore!"
More inaudible or undescrible murmurs being exchanged. From the tone of her parents' voices, it sound anything but the two of them having a midnight snack. Longing pangs in Amara's heart. If May and Amara happened to ever wake up in the middle of the night as well as their parents, all of them would go to the living room in their New York apartment, heating up their father's homemade caramel popcorn, and watching re-runs of the family's favorite show, Full House. Gripping the railing, Amara stays quiet, listening as hard as she can.
"I'm taking this just as hard as you, Al! Why can't you be strong!"
"I can't, I just…with Amara not eating or sleeping properly for weeks ever since...and then we're struggling with the move enough already...this is too much. I can't handle this. I didn't ask for this."
"You didn't ask for this? How more selfish can you sound? I didn't ask for one of my daughters to die! I didn't ask for my other daughter to be living in an unstable household! I didn't ask to quit my job just so that we can run away from our home! Yes Al, yes, of course you didn't ask for any of this you self centered - !"
Amara leans her head in, cocking it. Her mom said an extremely unfamiliar word she couldn't form in her mind. It sounded like a curse word her mother always warned her and May to never, ever say to other people.
"I…"
A pause full of heavy breathing.
"...I think we need a break."
"A break?! You mean you want to leave us, is that it?!"
"A separation…"
"How dare you! How could you leave us like…!"
Hearing enough, Amara, trying to control the shaking of her body, walks to her room. Closing the door behind her, Amara crawls into her bed, burying her face into Lopsy's soft belly. Separation? What did her father meant? The word repeats in her mind, until she finally has a grasp of its grown-up meaning. Divorce. Back in New York, in her school, Amara recalls one of her friends. Benny Blue, always needed to be addressed by full name, had his parents separated.
"I think my mom and dad don't like each other anymore," Benny Blue announced unceremoniously to Amara and May, who were all eating at their local Ben N' Jerry's.
"That's silly. Moms and Dads always love each other." May said, a frown puckered on her freckly face. Amara found herself immediately agreeing with May, more concerned slurping her Rocky Road flavored ice cream out of the bottom of her waffle cone.
Benny Blue shook his head slowly, and stared off deeply into his vanilla ice-cream. At that point, it was nothing but cold and murky soup. Weird enough for Benny Blue, he had not eaten a bite of his ice cream at all. "I-I think," Benny Blue said, looking up to both sisters. "They're getting 'separated.'"
"Who's separating them?"
"Dunno. I think they want to get away from each other. They don't love each other anymore."
"Then you're only going to have one Mommy or Daddy? That's lame."
"..."
The rest of their ice cream meal, Benny Blue never brought up his parents again. A month later, Benny Blue unexpectedly and without announcement, transferred out of the school and out of New York City. At that time, Amara thought he ran away to the circus like he always boasted, and was extremely cross at this prospect. However, their parents patiently explained to the girls why he really went away.
"His parents didn't love each other anymore" explained their mother. "So Benny Blue's parents 'divorced.' Which means that the parents separated. Which means only one of them can take care of Benny Blue according to the police men. Understand?"
Rolling over to her side, Amara hugs onto Lopsy harder. "Divorce," She whispers, finally pronouncing the weird sounding word right. Mom and Dad...don't love each other anymore? Amara holds her breath when she thinks of this. It's impossible. Not after the incident where her mother jumped into a lake to save her drowning father and ruin her prom dress in the process. Not after her father spun his bicycle around, going against a tide of racers when he was about to win just so he could be present for the birth of May. Not after her father stranded himself in the deserts of New Mexico for three days just so her mother could fit into the bus and make it back to New York.
Could it be…?
Her mind recalls her name being mentioned in her parents' heated arguement. Heart sinking, Amara clutches either sides of her arms. Could it be her parents are fighting because of her? Is it her fault? Is all of this her fault?
Denial. Wow, you're so stupid Amara. Of course it's not your fault. The more Amara denies, the more she finds herself believing this possibility.
Maybe...maybe she's just a bad kid. A bad kid that her parents no longer loved anymore.
Vrroom! Jumping out of her thoughts, Amara sneaks a peek out of the window. To her sinking horror, she sees her father just ducking into the minivan. With another whirr of the car engines, he drives off into the frosted, nearly empty roads. He...he really is separating from Mom, isn't he? "It's my fault." Amara tells Lopsy. His head rolls to the left side, as if he were nodding away in agreement.
Something wet almost escapes out of Amara's eyes - but she easily blinks it away.
Maybe there's one way to fix this.
But…
Can she? Can she really do it?
Amara considers the possibility for another minute. Then she nods, heading to one of her unopened packaged boxes.
She should run away.
Jack disheartedly kicks some snow over. Digging is staff into the ground, he breathes out, a definite wisp of frosty air escaping him. He glances around the familiar settings of Burgress. His lake. His home. His everything. A full moon is peeking from behind the smoky clouds, moonlight dancing and bouncing off of the many grand icicles Jack decorated the great and thick oak and hemlock trees. They look almost of diamonds, glittering silently in the moonlight.
A soft dusting of snow covers the forest, looking like sugar dust. Easy to be blown away and melted, but beautiful nevertheless. His familiar, comforting lake is glossed over with a thick coating of ice - Jack always made sure to keep it thick. Always. He grins proudly at the many dents and figure-8's carved into the surface of the frozen lake. People are finally warming up to the idea of skating in the lake of Burgress, seeing it oddly thick for some reason.
Once taking his fill of admiring his old home, Jack turns back to the other Guardians, who are surrounding the lair to Pitch. A homemade sign is dug besides the hole, thankfully, by a considerate adult reading, Danger! Very deep hole! Certain danger! Yellow almost glowing caution tape covers the perimeter, marking authority over the seemingly bottomless pit, unluckily touched by the children of Burgress who are wise enough to not mess with certain danger.
"No offense Manny," Bunny says, glaring at the full moon. "But you're chockers full of the Groundhog's waste."
"Bunnymund!" Tooth scolds him in an ushered tone.
"Man in Moon always have good reason, no?" North says, yet his sentence sounds more of an expecting question, directed at the other Guardians. Jack only shrugs at North in answer, uneasily looking past the caution tape that only presents the muddy darkness. He shudders from the memories forever burned into his mind, when he so recklessly and stupidly jumped into the hole, that only lead to a path of misery and dread.
Baby Tooth, who is hovering besides Tooth's shoulders, zooms over to Jack. With big, dewey, baby like violet eyes, she coos, calling out softly to Jack for reassurance. Finally tearing his gaze away from the hole, he manages to smile at Baby Tooth. Extending his thumb, the small hummingbird like creature flutters on top of his finger, resting on it. "Don't worry," He whispers. "I'll be okay."
Nodding slowly, Baby Tooth chirps, glad to see the pearly whites of Jack's smile, even if it didn't look so sincere. Giving a quick peck on top of his nose, Baby Tooth zooms straight back to Tooth's side. Jack laughs softly at the gesture, feeling a bit invigorated. However, his mind could only run through the many possibilities of what awaits from the lair…
During the quiet debate among the Guardians, Jack notices Sandy staring - no something much more intense than that, into the entrance leading to Pitch's lair. Ever since all of them arrived at the site, Sandy isn't as talkative as he usually is. The whole entire time, he either glanced between the Moon, or the hole leading to neverending pitch black - wakka, wakka, unintended pun! - darkness.
Just when Jack was about to ask Sandy his problem, unexpectedly and wholly out of character - without saying a word, the Guardian of Dreams leapt into the hole.
"W-what!" Is all Jack could say in a moment of dumbfold.
"I just don't get why we can't deal with the Nightmares while we're still at it - aw, crikey, Sandy?!" Bunny notices their fellow friend's unexpected action, breaking off from his heated rant that he was giving to Tooth and North. "We didn't even decide if we'll go into the lair like a bunch of bloody blueys!"
"Why would Sanderson do such thing?" North says, a puzzled look etched into his bushy eyebrows.
"Nevermind that - Sandy's diving into certain danger all along, and we need to be there to fight off whatever's waiting down there for us as soon as we can!" Without any warning, Tooth jumps into the lair as well.
"Buckley's chance that Pitch is willin' to sit down with us and talk about how to defeat his Nightmares! This could be a bloody trap that we're walking right into!"
"What choice do we have? We must trust the Moon!" North points to the sky. He jumps into the engulfing darkness as well, leaving Bunny and Jack.
Bunny shakes his head, paw on forehead. "Aw, crikey. Either this will lead to something stupid that could hurt us or something real jacked up." Vibrant green eyes meeting Jack's, Bunny shakes his head seeing the decision made by the Guardians already. "See ya on the other side mate." And jumps into the hole.
Standing on his tip toes, Jack peers into the darkness. A pit feeling of dread tugs at Jack - but what's the fun in being the last one joining the fight?
"Well! Gerominoooo!" Jack yells, taking a leap of chance into the hole.
The full Moon above glows brightly in the night skies than ever, no longer hiding behind the clouds.
After hearing the signal of her mother doing her nightly check on Amara and the soft click of her bedroom door, Amara knew it was time to go. Grabbing a duffel bag packed full with essentials, the girl slips into her Day-Glo Green sneakers, slipping into a jacket and putting on a pair of red mittens. Zipping up her jacket that is now a size too big on her skinny shoulders, Amara creeps into the hallway. Money...I'm gonna need money…
Tiptoeing downstairs, a re-enactment of James Bond from his series of films, Mission Impossible theme music orchestrates in Amara's head. Seeing the familiar blue purse of her mother's sitting carelessly on top of a box in the dining hall, Amara slowly unzips the bag. Each time, she furtively glances over her shoulder, an unconscious fear of seeing her mother standing there, catching her in the act.
The binds of her parents' teachings not to steal almost had Amara backed out - but the sight of finally seeing a wallet full of cash eased her guilty ridden mind. Taking out about three twenty dollar bills, Amara stuffs it into her pocket. Just as she is about to close the bag, she sees something familiar.
A picture of a smiling May and Amara in a small golden framed picture.
The most recent one at that, with both sisters sitting on the supposed "Santa Clause's" lap.
A scowl forms on Amara's face, resentment strong in her heart at seeing how stupidly happy she was when she believed. The resentment vanishes, when Amara sees the sight of her sister's smiling face once again. Although she looks paler, skinnier, and less healthier than usual in the picture, adorn by clad bandages from the treatment of the hospital, it was still the closest May looked to what Amara remembered her when she didn't went to sleep. You're already taking money. Don't take that. Amara barely hears the voice of reason, as she reaches for the small picture frame, and tucks it away neatly in her top right pocket.
Quickly rummaging through the cupboards, Amara half heartedly stocked up on food - though she knows she's never in the mood to eat lately - and manages to stuff everything in the remaining cramped room of her backpack and duffel bag. Before running into the night of the door, Amara knew she had to abide by the rules when 'running away' of writing a note to her parents.
Grabbing a sharpie and notepad, Amara scribbles this:
Mom, Dad,
Gotta run away. Sorry I caused you problems. I don't want you to separate. Don't bother to find me, cuz I will either join a circus or went on the lam. Or lamb? Is that how you spell it? Okay, well, bye, love you.
Amara
Carefully placing it on the table where her parents can see it, Amara backs out of the door, with her bulky baggage. Taking one last of her home, she escapes into the night.
A/N: And thus, the madness starts spinning into play. This chapter is OC-centric than the others - unlike the last version of 'Agoraphobia' I wanted to give more depth for Amara and her motivations to run away, as well as her grief dealing with the loss of her sister. I probably won't be able to update on next chapter till next Saturday. I'm procrastinating on summer homework as it is, and I need to prepare on my move to boarding school. Hope I did well - stay tune for the next chapter!
