Fly By Night

He's here. My only safe refuge is the dark closet amidst the clothes and other random things in there. I whimpered silently. My ship isn't coming because he knows. He knows my horrible secret. My secret, so horrible, that I now fear for my life. My precious life. I have so many things I want to accomplish in my life time; so many things I want see and hear with my own eyes and ears. The darkness of the light voided room covered my eyes like a veil. All I could hear was my own raspy, yet hushed, breathing. He'd eventually find me and I'd eventually... No! No! I don't want to think such thoughts. Happy thoughts... Happy thoughts... I... I could fly by night. Fly by night away from here. Fly by night away from here to change my life again.

Hello?

Oh, god... I felt the hot tears stream down my cold cheeks. My ship isn't coming. My ship to safety is lost at sea and I'm stuck at port, like a dunce, with my belongings, standing out like a sore thumb. How did he find out? How did he find out about my secret? I told no one, yet he's here. Here. In my house. Scaring me to death. My breathing fell silent as I heard soft footsteps down below me. He's searching, questing, seeking to find me out; hoping to rend my being into something unrecognizable; to rend me fucked up beyond recognition. I silently whimpered again. He's gonna find me. He's gonna find me. He's gonna find me! My hot tears fell faster, like a raging torrent. I want to fly by night; fly by night away from here and change my life again. But... I can't...

Look, I just want to talk.

My ship isn't coming, and I just can't pretend that everything will be all right. I squeezed myself even deeper into the corner of the dark, quiet closet; the rustling sounds even louder than they really were. My heart was pounding in its confinement; pounding so hard I thought it would explode. Please, God, let that happen and save me from his wrath. His wrath is something I wish not to face. Not now... God, please, hear me; let this end well. I beg of you. Creak. Oh, god... He's coming up the stairs... Creak. Coming up the stairs to find me. Creak. To find me in my closet. In my hiding spot that was the negative of Heaven. Creak. The closet that will be the last place I see with my own eyes. Creak. I couldn't stop my tears from falling. I couldn't stop myself from whimpering. Creak. I drew a hand from underneath what felt like a hard-bound book and clamped said hand tightly over my mouth. Creak. I drew breath from my nose. It was quieter and less of a chance to reveal myself to him. Creak. The closet is now my fear filled Hell. I need to fly by night...away from here...and change my life again.

Please, don't make me search for you...

He was in the hallway now. I could hear the soft thud of his footsteps against the carpeting. But my ship isn't coming. A dark storm had come and stranded it out in the vast sea. And the vast sea is near impossible to navigate in a storm. I could hear him in the other rooms trying to lure me out with false claims, like a Siren would lure sailors to an untimely death. Claims of happiness. Claims of forgiveness. Claims of togetherness. Claims of being my ship to safety. I quickly and quietly began to hide behind the vast amount of stuff I kept in my closet. My ship isn't coming, so I need to find another way. Books, stuffed animals, a pile of clothes; I did my best to completely cover myself. In the complete blackness, I heard something fall. A book maybe? My breathing stopped then and there. Not another sound was heard, not from within the closet or from without. He knows. He knows I'm hiding. Now he knows WHERE I'm hiding. God, please, help me. Help me to fly by night away from here. Help me to fly by night, away from here, so I can change my life again.

Don't be scared...

Thud. I tried not to cry. Thud. I tried so hard, but my tears fell silently anyway. Thud. He was in my room now. I could hear his soft footsteps as he slowly walked. Thud. How did he find out about me? How does he even know? Thud. How- How is he even here? He was taken away after- I jumped like a mouse when the footsteps stopped. My ship isn't coming. Oh, god... My ship isn't coming... I'm stranded like a rat on driftwood; with nowhere to turn. I shirked back into the darkest corner of the closet, where not even the darkest demons would dare go. But I know- I know that he would. He'd do anything for me. He'd kill...for me... It scares me...to know that someone would take the life of another...for me. Stan... Why? I'm not special enough for you to have flown by night to change your life again.

Wendy, please. I need to talk to you.

I'm not special, Stan. I knew about your feelings for me, and I played you. I played you so I could get to Kyle. And in the end, he rejected me because of you. I'm sorry, Stan... I don't deserve your adoration. I hugged and kissed you the other day to say goodbye to you, not because I want a relationship with you. I don't deserve you, and at one time, you deserved someone better than me. I heard the knob on the closet door jiggle. I'm almost found out. My cheeks were hot from tears, hot from frustration, and hot from the pile of shirts I had covering my head. I feel like a stowaway on a ship, hiding for my life. But I'm not a stowaway, nor is this a ship. I'm Wendy Testaburger and this is my closet. I'm nine years old and I played a boy to get to another one. I'm afraid; afraid for my life. The closet door opened when I realized that my left foot was uncovered. I need to fly by night, away from here, and change my life again.

There you are...

My right hand gripped an object of some sort and... I can't remember what happened after that. It's like my mind went blank. I stood over the downed Stan. I was covered in his blood, my blood, and I think I may have wet myself at one point. I cried. Tears fell even harder than they did when I was in the closet. My sobs were loud and I wanted someone to hold me. Kyle... I killed him. Do you hate me now, Kyle? We parted on such peaceful terms, but now... I killed your best friend, out of fear for my own safety. He killed his own mother...for me. Who's to say he wouldn't have killed me...for me? I looked down at Stan again when something caught my teary eyes. A bloody toy boat was laying on his chest. My ship had come; had been there the entire time, I just hadn't seen it. I was blinded by darkness, by fear. If I had known that Stan would die by my hands, I would've stayed away. I would have stayed to my own devices. I would have flown by night, away from here, and changed my life again.

[FIN]