It had always been a nervous habit of hers. To find something on her and just fuss with it. Today it was her necklace, her birthday present her mother gave her only an hour or so ago. But since that morning, with the car, her head, her hand, it hardly felt to Joanna like her birthday at all.
[i]Where is Mom?[/i] Joanna thought. [i]She should have been home by now.[/i] She was making her 50th lap across the living room carpet. She had answered all the phone calls that came in, hoping it was her mom, but it was always one of her miscellanous friends or relatives to give her some birthday wishes. She had dismissed all the calls hurriedly, not wanting to tie up the phone lines. She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care. Something was going to happen that day. Her mom was in trouble.
Her father, John, who had always paid little attention to his daughter in inconvenient times, was beginning worry about Joanna himself. [i]Acting so weird? On her birthday? Something's not right.[/i] John stood in the doorway to the living room and paused there for a few minutes watching his daughter pace and twirl the chain around her neck. He wanted to say something, but he never was very good at talking to his kids. Especially his teenage daughter. [i]Best to let her mother handle it.[/i] He concluded and left to go search the pantry for something to eat. Joanna never even noticed he was there.
Her legs grew tired of all the pacing and she plopped herself down on the overstuffed couch. She flicked through the television channels, turned the pages of a magazine, tried to finish a jigsaw puzzle, but nothing was working. That feeling sat boiling in her stomach. It wasn't going away. She had to know.
Joanna leapt from her spot on the couch to reach the phone. As her hand hovered over the receiver, a high pitched ring came from the base. Joanna's heart sank. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be something. Her fingers trembled, but the phone kept ringing. She knew she had no choice...but to answer.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded broken.
"Hey kiddo! Did you get my card this morning?" It was only Roger.
"Yeah, it was great. Thanks." She hadn't even thought about opening yet. As far as she knew, it was still sitting in the foyer covered in dirt and a few drops of blood. Or maybe his was still in the driveway.
"Well, did you get what was inside?" His voice sounded very excited. As much as she loved Roger's presents, now was not the time.
"It was great. Thanks. I'll use it everyday." She said into the phone almost as fast she could think. "Listen Rog, I'm expecting Mom to call. I have to get off the line. Bye." She slammed the receiver down before her brother could get a word of argument. John listened closely to conversation his daughter was having. He dismissed the whole situation again. It wasn't any of his business, including the conversation between her and Roger. All he was concerned about was where his dinner was. He grabbed a box of crackers and made his way up the stairs to his office on the second floor.
The room was quiet. In fact the whole house was quiet now. What had happened since that morning? When her mom was leaving to head to the grocery store, the house was cheery and bright, and birds were singing. All she heard was silence now, and it was too dark in the house. [i]Light. I need some light in here.[/i]
The angle that she was at on the couch made it impossible to turn the lamp on, but she tried anyway. She didn't look at the table while she twisted her hand around and over to reach the knob on the far end. Her elbow twitched as hit the light, and knocked the phone and the receiver off the table. She huffed at her clumsiness and climbed off the plush sofa to pick it up.
She hopped on to the floor and picked up the receiver first, since it was the heaviest and placed it back to it's normal space on the table. She bent down again to reach the phone -
Another blinding flash filled her eyes in a split second from touching the phone. She heard sirens, and screams in the background. The crush of metal, the sounds of it twisting out of shape and into unknown forms. Joanna arched her back and writhed in pain. She felt as if her spine was being broken in every place. Her legs were numb at first and then, not there at all. And her head, it swam in colors, blurring together. She could make out some objects, like the red car, a few figures standing around and a few items smashed on the ground, but she couldn't focus on the faces or the objects. All she felt was pain...and sorrow.
From upstairs, where John was enjoying his crackers and a game of Snood, he could Joanna screaming. The most awful bloodcurdling sound he had ever heard. He pushed himself out from behind his desk and practically fell down the stairs trying to reach his daughter. "Joanna!" He kept yelling, as her ran from one end of the house to the other. "Joanna!" But the screams kept coming, and as her came closer to the sounds, thuds came against the floor, as if someone was throwing his daughter, wrestling her to the ground.
He slipped down the last couple of steps. And by the time he reached the entrance to the living room, Joanna's face was balled up in her hands away from view, crying and wailing. And she had completely enclosed her body so it didn't take up more room than the table lamp. "Joanna!" John yelled again, louder than before. He ran to her tried to shake her out of it but she wasn't responding. "Jo! Talk to me sweetie!"
Joanna's body began to quiver as she slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her skin was so pale, it looked translucent. "Daddy." She moved her arms away from her chest and opened them for an embrace from her father.
But John couldn't help but back away. The cut on Joanna's hand was open again, and dripping bright red onto the carpet. But there was a new cut, an even deeper one, across Joanna's chest, right above where her tank top stop starting. Blood was pouring out, changing the white terry cloth material into a sickening shade of red. The gash had appeared right where the pendant of her birthday necklace from her mother laid. "Daddy." Joanna whispered again, and she fell over forward slightly, catching her weakened body on her elbows. "Something awful's happening to Mom."
The phone, which still lay on the floor, covered in blood in the shape of a handprint...started to ring. Joanna and John knew, at that moment, exactly what the call was about.
[i]Where is Mom?[/i] Joanna thought. [i]She should have been home by now.[/i] She was making her 50th lap across the living room carpet. She had answered all the phone calls that came in, hoping it was her mom, but it was always one of her miscellanous friends or relatives to give her some birthday wishes. She had dismissed all the calls hurriedly, not wanting to tie up the phone lines. She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care. Something was going to happen that day. Her mom was in trouble.
Her father, John, who had always paid little attention to his daughter in inconvenient times, was beginning worry about Joanna himself. [i]Acting so weird? On her birthday? Something's not right.[/i] John stood in the doorway to the living room and paused there for a few minutes watching his daughter pace and twirl the chain around her neck. He wanted to say something, but he never was very good at talking to his kids. Especially his teenage daughter. [i]Best to let her mother handle it.[/i] He concluded and left to go search the pantry for something to eat. Joanna never even noticed he was there.
Her legs grew tired of all the pacing and she plopped herself down on the overstuffed couch. She flicked through the television channels, turned the pages of a magazine, tried to finish a jigsaw puzzle, but nothing was working. That feeling sat boiling in her stomach. It wasn't going away. She had to know.
Joanna leapt from her spot on the couch to reach the phone. As her hand hovered over the receiver, a high pitched ring came from the base. Joanna's heart sank. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be something. Her fingers trembled, but the phone kept ringing. She knew she had no choice...but to answer.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded broken.
"Hey kiddo! Did you get my card this morning?" It was only Roger.
"Yeah, it was great. Thanks." She hadn't even thought about opening yet. As far as she knew, it was still sitting in the foyer covered in dirt and a few drops of blood. Or maybe his was still in the driveway.
"Well, did you get what was inside?" His voice sounded very excited. As much as she loved Roger's presents, now was not the time.
"It was great. Thanks. I'll use it everyday." She said into the phone almost as fast she could think. "Listen Rog, I'm expecting Mom to call. I have to get off the line. Bye." She slammed the receiver down before her brother could get a word of argument. John listened closely to conversation his daughter was having. He dismissed the whole situation again. It wasn't any of his business, including the conversation between her and Roger. All he was concerned about was where his dinner was. He grabbed a box of crackers and made his way up the stairs to his office on the second floor.
The room was quiet. In fact the whole house was quiet now. What had happened since that morning? When her mom was leaving to head to the grocery store, the house was cheery and bright, and birds were singing. All she heard was silence now, and it was too dark in the house. [i]Light. I need some light in here.[/i]
The angle that she was at on the couch made it impossible to turn the lamp on, but she tried anyway. She didn't look at the table while she twisted her hand around and over to reach the knob on the far end. Her elbow twitched as hit the light, and knocked the phone and the receiver off the table. She huffed at her clumsiness and climbed off the plush sofa to pick it up.
She hopped on to the floor and picked up the receiver first, since it was the heaviest and placed it back to it's normal space on the table. She bent down again to reach the phone -
Another blinding flash filled her eyes in a split second from touching the phone. She heard sirens, and screams in the background. The crush of metal, the sounds of it twisting out of shape and into unknown forms. Joanna arched her back and writhed in pain. She felt as if her spine was being broken in every place. Her legs were numb at first and then, not there at all. And her head, it swam in colors, blurring together. She could make out some objects, like the red car, a few figures standing around and a few items smashed on the ground, but she couldn't focus on the faces or the objects. All she felt was pain...and sorrow.
From upstairs, where John was enjoying his crackers and a game of Snood, he could Joanna screaming. The most awful bloodcurdling sound he had ever heard. He pushed himself out from behind his desk and practically fell down the stairs trying to reach his daughter. "Joanna!" He kept yelling, as her ran from one end of the house to the other. "Joanna!" But the screams kept coming, and as her came closer to the sounds, thuds came against the floor, as if someone was throwing his daughter, wrestling her to the ground.
He slipped down the last couple of steps. And by the time he reached the entrance to the living room, Joanna's face was balled up in her hands away from view, crying and wailing. And she had completely enclosed her body so it didn't take up more room than the table lamp. "Joanna!" John yelled again, louder than before. He ran to her tried to shake her out of it but she wasn't responding. "Jo! Talk to me sweetie!"
Joanna's body began to quiver as she slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her skin was so pale, it looked translucent. "Daddy." She moved her arms away from her chest and opened them for an embrace from her father.
But John couldn't help but back away. The cut on Joanna's hand was open again, and dripping bright red onto the carpet. But there was a new cut, an even deeper one, across Joanna's chest, right above where her tank top stop starting. Blood was pouring out, changing the white terry cloth material into a sickening shade of red. The gash had appeared right where the pendant of her birthday necklace from her mother laid. "Daddy." Joanna whispered again, and she fell over forward slightly, catching her weakened body on her elbows. "Something awful's happening to Mom."
The phone, which still lay on the floor, covered in blood in the shape of a handprint...started to ring. Joanna and John knew, at that moment, exactly what the call was about.