GROWING UP Chapter 4
The day had ticked away in a slow march of minutes. The Fenton house was left quiet since the parents were working in the lab, Jazz had left for her friend's house, and Danny was napping on the couch.
The muscular man who'd shown up just two days before disappeared just as he arrived: unexpectedly.
Outside the storm clouds were gathering and a large thunderstorm threatened the small town. Danny stirred from his nap. The little boy looked around for the large man who he'd gotten accustom to seeing. The only proof that the man had ever been there was the food in the fridge and the freshly washed sheets that were put back on his bed. Danny raced around the house hoping that he just over looked where the man was. His search turned up fruitless.
After sitting around the house for a long time worrying, the boy decided that the man had just gone to his hotel room for the night and that he would be back tomorrow to spend more time talking and playing. In a feeble attempt to ward off boredom, the child tried to count to fifty again.
One, two, three, four. The house stood mute as if the dead dared not make noise.
Five, six, seven eight, nine. The world morphed into a cold electric night.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. The ticking of the clock grew louder with each passing second, grating on the boy's ear drums.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. Water started to fall from the sky. It was not a gentle summer rain, but a harsh storm. The noise the drops made pounded on the large empty house.
Twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty- what was that! A loud boom came from outside and shook the house. Danny hid himself in the couch pillows, waiting for the worse.
Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five. The crashing sound came again. It was as if a giant had decided to rush through the small town of Amity.
Twenty six, Twenty seven. Another loud noise accompanied this frightening one. It was as if an army threatened to break down the door. Raping came from the walls and ceiling. The whole house came alive shrieking in pain and horror.
Twenty eight. The lights flicked off. The house was plunged into darkness. The air felt thin and the atmosphere was filled with unknown things that wished to claw at the lonely little boy.
Twenty nine. The knocking sounds got louder. The small boy was frozen in place, too scared to move. Never before could he remember being caught in a storm this bad. On second thought, he couldn't remember any storms short of the friendly warm summer ones from last year.
Thirty. The door flung open and the harsh winds from outside trampled the house and angrily flung objects around. Paper blew about as if it were a giant snow globe. The cold gripped at the boy like corpse hands clawing at the living.