Chapter Three

The Planning

Something was wrong. He had expected Laura would be here by now. He looked down at his watch. It was a quarter past one o'clock, the following day. Had things gone awry? Had he failed to protect her? The clock was ticking, and he was seeing red.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Little did James know, Laura was planning a trip. she had been deep in thought all day long, and had suddenly felt a strong pull. She had to go to Silent Hill. She feared for James's life. She didn't know why, but she couldn't just ignore it, the feeling was so strong. She would leave under the blanket of night and find the answers there.

x-x-x-x-x-x

She didn't pack much. She used her knapsack that had so well served her through her last year of high school to store an extra change of clothes, a flashlight, and her prized charm bracelet that she was sentimentally attached to but by tenth grade had refused to wear. James had given it to her almost a month after he had brought her home with him to raise. He said it had been Mary's. Should she break it, or should anything else happen to it, she would be devastated. It had been sitting in her jewelry box for almost three years, safe.

She had dinner with James at a nearby McDonald's. She didn't talk much and he had asked her what was bothering her.

"Nothing," she had answered. "I'm just really tired."

The short ride home with unnaturally quiet as well. Laura checked the gas guage as James drove. Thankfully, the tank was full. It was then that Laura conspired that she would have to take the car to Silent Hill. Walking would take a week or more. She didn't feel as though she had that kind of time to spare. No, she would drive, and she would get there within three hours.

It was nine before they got home. Around midnight, Laura double checked the contents of her knapsack while James watched Conan O'Brian on the living room television. She hoped that he would go to bed soon. If she was going, she needed to do it within the hour. She was beginning to have doubts. The events from the night before seemed so far away, so insignificant.

She searched her bedroom, looking for anything else that would come in handy during her excursion. And then it hit her. She would need money, for gas, for provisions. She didn't know how long she would be gone, although she did know that it wouldn't be too long. The problem was that she had quit her dull job at Chic-a-Roc, a fastfood chicken eatery, shortly after graduating. She was penniless. For the first time since ten o'clock, she was grateful that James had not gone to bed yet. He had left his wallet on the dresser in his bedroom. She left the confines of her own and started for his.

She beratted herself as she opened his bedroom door. How could she take money from him? He had shown her nothing but unconditional love and support. Yet the conflict at hand was that she needed it. He would understand in due time, he always had before.

She strode up to the dresser. His leather wallet lay on its surface beside any age-old framed picture of Mary. Laura stared at the picture, at Mary's beautiful face, her eyes, her lips. Had Laura been the biological offspring of the beauty in the picture, she would have been a shade or two fairer complected, prettier even. Mary had been absolutely gorgeous. A deep longing ached inside of Laura as she stared at her could-have-been mother. How she wished, oh, how she wished...

Laura looked away, listening for any sounds of footsteps, and she was suddenly digging into James's wallet. She no longer heard Conan O'Brian's dumb joked leaking up the staircase. The television had been turned off. James would be upstairs soon.

Laura pulled out six twenty dollar bills. She put one back. One hundred dollars would be more than enough, she was sure. She quickly put the wallet back where she had found it, and turned to leave. James was standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Secret," he said, and Laura's heart skipped a beat. Did he know? He didn't seem mad. But did he know?

"Checking email?" he asked, and Laura nodded without hesitation. She felt the crisp twenties, fresh from the bank, against the palm of her right hand. She tried to keep them out of his sight.

"Are you not feeling well?" James asked, having developed an acute fear for sickness. "You haven't said much all day. You aren't brooding about last night, are you?" He secretly hoped that that was all it was.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired," she answered, just as she had at McDonald's, not knowing whether she sounded genuine or not. "Abby emailed," she lied. "She says Europe is beautiful."

James bought it, hook, line and sinker. "I'm sorry that you couldn't go with her," he said, shaking his head. "We just don't have the money." Laura felt horrible.

James waved his hand through the air as he settled himself into his computer chair. "Run off to bed," he told Laura. "You look like Death."

Laura laughed nervously at the joke. She bade him goodnight and left the room, feeling as horrible as ever. She was just outside her bedroom door when James yelled after her.

"Hey!" he called. Laura froze, the twenties now growing damp with sweat in her theiving hand. She turned, reluctantly, to look. James was grinning. "No more sleepwalking, hear me? I need my sleep, too!" he said, and laughed.

Laura sighed with tremendous relief, covering it up with a laugh of her own.

"'Night," James said, and disappeared back into his room, closing the door in his wake.

Laura sighed again, feeling troubled. She was not familiar with stealing. She would most definitely pay him back, and she wouldn't do this to him ever, ever again.

will update later