I cannot believe I'm doing this. Out of all people, I had to help this man out? I almost believed it was nothing but a nasty joke my aunt and him came up with. Except it wasn't a joke, it's an actual thing I have to do for what I had done last night. The thing I'd done last night is trying to save Hannah from this wicked demon who treats her like an object. To be honest, she should have a better dad than this dude. No, dude isn't the right word for him, it's... I have no idea what to call the man. All I can say is he is a liar, a creep, and a total brute in the whole neighborhood. In the whole universe. What's worse, I forgot to grab my phone in case I needed to call the cops.
I would go get it if this freak isn't glowering from his porch he's standing on, leaving me to keep my distance from him, my arms folded over my chest, making sure my eyes are off of him by keeping my head turned away, eyes closed like I'm a spoiled lady.
It isn't fair, I say. There's no need to help him around the house. He can do stuff on his own like how can do the garden on his own after hearing him tell his offspring that when I was under the bed to keep my sight out of his vision. If he was friendly, I wouldn't mind giving him a hand.
Grounding me for what I did sounds better, about a week or two. No, instead I have no choice but to do this.
I hadn't moved at all when I came to the middle of the walkway, making my focus away from him. Unfortunately, from my peripheral vision, he came his way where I'm at when I opened up my eyes.
Not wanting him to get near me, I went to walk away when he stopped me. "Don't think about going back home when you hadn't started anything, young lady," he said, a hint of warning leaking out. "You don't want to help around the house for the rest of your life." The tone from him can make a brave person's skin crawl. "You should be lucky I told your aunt about this instead of the police for what you did."
"I'll have the cops take you away!" I cried out, whipping my head to face him. "You're unfit to be a father." Shivers - or Mr. Creep is what I would call him - frowned deeply, messing with his glasses. "Hannah should have a happy life." I faced away, making sure to keep any tears from coming out. "...Unlike me..." I waved my head left to right. "I'm not going to help you out with anything; you can do the things on your own," I right away refused, about to make my leave when I felt my arm being grabbed. "Let me go!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping someone heard my cry. "Let go of me!" Shivers, being the full grown man like he is, had no problem making me walk, ignoring my pleas for freedom. "I said let go!" I demanded, doing all I can to get myself out of his grip.
Shivers looked like he wanted to laugh at my struggle by the time he got me to the porch. "Fight all you want; we know who's gonna win," he eerily allowed, pulling me up to the door. He took a hold of the doorknob grinning his scary grin, reminding me of a creepypasta about an animal with a human smile. "I already know what you can help me with." I rolled my eyes, trying to pull away from him. "The first thing you can do is help me clean up the mess in the basement you made last night," he started off, taking me inside. "Once we're done with that, you can help me with the chores I do everyday-"
"Why can't Hannah do them?" I said, finding myself at the door where it led to the basement I used last night.
"Because she was in bed. I always make sure she's in bed every night before I do," he answered, finally letting go. "If it were her, I'll ground her."
I scoffed. "It's difficult to believe what you said, considering how you are around her."
He went to protest when our ears caught the sound of my friend. "Ezzy? Dad, why is she in our house?" There stood Hannah, her facial expression all questionable when she saw me with no confusion whatsoever. A few seconds went by when a smile, something I've been unable to do, came to her when she thought she had the answer. "Finally," she said happily, coming up to us. "You get to let me be a normal person-"
"Go to your room," Shivers cut her off with an order, stopping her from saying anything further. "She isn't here to see you. She's responsible for what she did last night," he explained grimly.
Stopping in her tracks, she glanced at me then at her dad. "...I don't follow. No one comes into our house due to the security alarms you put up to keep others away from us..." She pointed at herself. "...to make sure I stay in at all times," she responded, the secret of her going out not being revealed.
"We wouldn't have anyone in our home if this girl here hadn't cut the cords," he replied, glaring at me, making me look away. "She made a mess in our basement and she's the one who broke your window." Hannah looked down with Shivers catching on quickly. "I know that look...you knew she-" He pointed at me. "-broke your window." She doesn't look at her dad who doesn't take his eyes off of her, like he was waiting for her to say something, except she was unable to. "I asked you who did it. You explained some kid did it, stating it wasn't this Ezzy girl." I frowned, not liking how he's speaking to her, especially calling me Ezzy girl. "I should've known it was your...friend," he said, acting if he failed a mystery of some sort. He rubbed his eyes after taking his glasses off. "You know one of our rules..."
"You shouldn't keep me from making friends," Hannah shouted, stomping her foot like a small child would do. "I've been inside all the time. Let me at least have one friend or two. I'll someday have a boyfriend."
Shivers didn't like what he's hearing, going up to her, taking her by the wrist, tugging her to the stairs where I followed them. More likely him since he's practically forcing her to move, listening to him speak to his daughter in his frightening tone of voice.
"My own daughter isn't going to have any friends, let alone a boyfriend. I'll be sure to keep you away from anyone, along with them staying away from you and I. We don't need anyone befriending you. My daughter has no wish to have a boyfriend in her life. If I see you with Ezzy or with any guy or both, I'll put you back where you belong."
Back where you belong? I wasn't sure whether my ears were messing with me. No one can put someone back where they belong.
It's like he'd made her up the way he said it, like she wasn't born; completely bizarre because no one can make someone up. It doesn't make sense coming from him. Though to him it makes sense, his daughter having the look of utter fear, like she knew what he's talking about, like he had told her this before.
Shivers released his grip. "Go in your room until I tell you to come out." Hannah went to argue, then gave up, her attitude changing in a snap. She looked at him, going up one step at a time. Soon, her bedroom door is being heard, the sound of it closing satisfying her father. "There, we can get started with her there." He turned, almost bumping into me. "I didn't tell you to go with us," he spoke bitterly.
"I was following you," I told him. "You shouldn't tell her what you want her to do; it isn't nice, depending on what it is. Commanding her to go to her room-"
"I didn't command her to go to her room," he interrupted. "I wanted her in her room to make sure she's out of our way while you are lending me a hand."
"I would rather give her a hand then give one to you," I responded truthfully. "I'll go see how she's doing..." I was about to go upstairs when he got in my way. I huffed, not wanting to yell. "I'll be down in the basement," I promised, wondering if it would work on him.
He thought about it, stepping out of the way. "Don't be too long; I don't want to tell your aunt that you were slacking."
"You actually tattled on me," I corrected smartly. "You didn't tell on me."
"Same thing. Go check on my daughter before I change my mind." He walked, heading to the basement. "Kids..." he murmured disgracefully, disappearing.
I waited for a few seconds to make sure he hadn't changed his mind before proceeding up the stairs to Hannah's bedroom who I saw is laying on her bed on top of the covers, a hardcover book in her hands, opened, titled Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, published back in eighteen-eighteen when she was alive, published during that year. I would say that I hadn't read the book since I probably won't be interested in reading it for myself. The same might be for other books - horror books - by authors who wrote that genre who are deceased, not living anymore like the woman who wrote the book about a gruesome monster at the age of eighteen.
The sound of a page was heard when it was turned. Her eyes are locked in the book, immersed by the story. From where I'm at, it looked like she may have been reading it for a while, for she's halfway through the book. She's unaware I'm at her doorway, scanning her eyes at the page she's on, continuing to read. Her eyes jumped to the next page when I stepped in, and it was enough to get her attention. "Yes?" She placed a black bookmark with a blood-red ribbon between the book, marking her spot to not lose her place. "Is there something you want to say? Because it seems like you have something in your mind," she stated the obvious.
"I do have something to say..." I rubbed the back of my head down to my neck, feeling the chain of the necklace. "Actually...I wanted to see how you're doing..." I explained my reasoning on why I'm in her bedroom.
"I'm fine; don't worry," she waved off like what her dad said to her hadn't happened.
"Doesn't look like you're fine..." I said carefully. "It's like you're hiding."
"What do you mean by that?" she wondered, sitting up from her bed, standing up.
"I mean that..." I sighed, dropping my hands to my side. "I mean about your dad when he said he'll put you back where you belong," I told her. "I don't get it."
"It's nothing to worry about; he can say things he doesn't mean to say," she wiped off. "I do wish to have freedom, to make friends, to get a boyfriend," she said frowning, going over to a bookcase I hadn't seen until now, similar to the one in the study, though it was a half shorter and wide. "Have you ever wanted a boyfriend?" she asked, putting the book on the third shelf, replacing it with another book that is also halfway through. She looked at me, smiling. "I'll have no doubt that a high school boy will ask you out."
"No guy would want someone like me who is always feeling pathetic to be their girlfriend," I told her, watching her smile disappear. "Part of me does want one, except..." I took a deep breath, releasing it. "...let's change the subject." I seriously wanted to talk about something else. "You got a lot of books here..." I observed, taking one off the first shelf. "The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow..." I read the title. "By Washington Irving..." I added the writer's name.
"It's one of my favorites," Hannah grinned. "These were my dad's until he passed them on to me."
"You're dad lets you read scary books...?" For being a jerk to his daughter, my mind couldn't believe he'll allow her to read scary books, though not let her be outside. "I thought he..."
"Wouldn't allow me to read these?" I nodded when she finished what I wanted to say, and she laughed a little. "My dad does allow me to read scary books."
"Just scary books?" I studied the book I have in my hand. "Nothing else?" I'm not being negative on her reading tastes since everyone has one - some like poems, romance, sci-fi, fantasy, horror, etc. I read Goosebumps, although my aunt does encourage me to read other genres, except I would refuse.
Maybe I should go with other genres...
"I have other books that aren't horror." She directed to a wide shelf that's on her wall. "I'm also into romance and fantasy." She strolled over there, pulling a book out from the middle of the other ones. "I like to read the Twilight Saga books." She put the book back. I don't reply, looking at the book I still have in my hand, reading the synopsis written in the back of this work of fiction. "You can borrow the book," she said, getting my attention. "It seems like you want to read it."
"No, no. I'm... I'm not interested..." I put the book back when she came over, taking the book where I placed it, handing it to me. "Really," I insisted, taking a step back. "I would rather read the books I have."
"What books do you read?" she inquired, placing the book back.
I rocked back and forth on my feet, digging my upper teeth on my lower lip. "...Goosebumps..." I said self-consciously, praying she wouldn't judge me...like what happened when I was a kid... "It's what I read... yeah..." I put my hands behind my back, waiting to get mocked or laughed at.
"You're a Goosebumps fan?" My eyes had been looking at my shoes before flicking them straight ahead from her, seeing her surprised look on her face, leading me to be a bit confused by it. "I never knew you were a fan," she said, discovering something about me she hadn't known. "How many do you have?"
"All of them," I answered, not feeling the same bubbled-up feeling evading from her. "I take your one, too...?" I guessed unsure, messing with the charm of my necklace.
"I don't read those books," she straightly responded. "No offense," she added, sitting down on her bed, placing the book she picked on the top of her blankets.
"You said you like scary books," I replied with a raised eyebrow. "Along with romance and fantasy..."
"It doesn't mean I have to read books that others enjoy," she said, picking the book back up. "I bet you heard about this book." She held it up in front of her. "The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson."
"I hadn't heard of it..." I mentioned. "I hadn't heard of any of these books."
"It's no problem. I would say the same thing if I heard of a book I hadn't heard or seen before. Not everyone has heard of gothic horror, comedy horror, fantasy horror, Lovecraftian, also known as cosmic horror, paranormal stories, post-apocalyptic, psychological. There's also slashers with other names, sci-fi horror, supernatural, folk horror, thrillers..."
"That's a lot," I complimented, wide eyed before she could finish the list. "I always thought horror is just horror. Nothing else."
"Nope, different types. I enjoy gothic horror the most," she stated, hugging The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde hardback. "I hadn't gotten to continue this one since I started reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein." She was about to say more when our ears caught the sound of footsteps from the staircase then in the upper hallway. My eyes looked towards the doorway, hearing the footsteps getting closer. I glanced at Hannah, seeing that she is looking at the doorway, too. I couldn't tell if she's fearful or anything.
My mind raced, my heart beating a mile a minute. I saw her dad about to enter - and quickly slammed it in his face.
"What the-?" A surprised, yet an angry, cry was heard from the other side. "Open this door!" Shivers demanded, the knob turning, with him trying to push the door open as I kept my back on it. "Open this door!" he yelled louder, pounding on it. Like a psycho... A sick psycho. "I'm going to tell your aunt you aren't helping me," he made a threat.
"Go ahead!" I yelled back. "Go tell my aunt for all I care, you big psychopathic being!"
"Ezzy, he isn't a psycho!" Hannah cried, tossing the book to the side.
"Then explain the yelling." I pressed my back harder.
"Would you yell if someone slammed a door in your face?"
I blinked when she refused to explain. However, she does make a good point. I took one step forward - when the door ran into me on my back, and I sprawled onto the floor.
"Ezzy!" Hannah knelt down to check if I'm okay.
"I'm fine..." My back ached, my eyes shooting a distasteful look at her father.
He came over, taking a hold of Hannah's arm, getting her on her feet, his eyes piercing down at me. "You said you're up here to see how my little girl is doing," he said, taking her over to her bed, making her sit down. Hannah lowered her head, listening as her dad continued to glare through his glasses. "I waited for you for half an hour in the basement. I think you lied to me."
"I didn't lie." I sat up, rubbing my sore back. "Hannah and I talked about other stuff."
"Other stuff, huh?" he scoffed a laugh. "Name them. Name the other stuff you two are talking about."
I wanted to swipe the leering smile off of his face badly. "She brought up wanting a boyfriend..."
"She will never have a boyfriend!" he exclaimed. "If I catch her with a boy, I'll...!"
"You'll do what? Beat her to a pulp?" I questioned.
"I wouldn't hurt my own kid!" he responded rather loudly.
"Lair!" I accused, pointing as I managed to get off the floor. Hannah doesn't say anything, staying out of it. She doesn't look up, either. "You won't admit to anything. You keep building the lie up to cover up the truth."
"I'm no liar," he snarled. "I hadn't lied in my life."
"Then why are the books locked up in your study?" I suddenly blurt out. "Tell me why they have locks on them. Tell me why the Goosebumps manuscripts are locked up like secret diaries. Tell me why two men got out a book."
His facial expression changed from madness to fear, then narrowed his eyes. "We need to get started on the basement," he avoided my demands. Taking my arm, he looked towards Hannah. "Stay here."
"Yes, dad..." Laying down, she opened up her gothic horror book, looking at me with sorry eyes. "I can help..." she offered when her dad held up his hand to silence her.
"You...just stay in your room, don't go anywhere." The tone within the volume of his voice, it sounded rather dull, tired, like he doesn't want to hear a complaint from her, not wanting to deal with any arguing. His eyes don't match his voice, searing through his glasses. It was enough to keep Hannah's mouth shut, hiding her face with the help of her book, her personality switching from happy to downright complete fear, even though her dad hadn't yelled, hollered, cried, screamed, or anything to make his voice raise.
It seems she's scared of her dad no matter how he acts, even though she won't tell me the truth. I have a dreadful feeling that he made her not talk about what's going within this home, and he may have kept telling her to keep that secret during each town they lived in. It truly makes me up-feel sorry for her for what she goes through everyday.
She doesn't take her eyes off the book as her dad took me away from her room, taking me down the stairs to the doorway that led to the basement. I peered down from the staircase, already seeing the bear traps I've encountered from last night. I turned to Shivers. "Since you don't want to tell me the truth, you can at least tell me why you have bear traps down here," I said.
"You don't need to know why those things are down there," he replied. "Besides, we need to get started."
"It's like you use those bear traps to keep people out of your home," I couldn't help but to assume.
"No one can get in the basement because the other door is locked," he told me. "On the other side," he needed to add in. "The more we stand here, the more we won't get anything done."
Part of me wanted to protest, but I didn't want him telling on my aunt again. I looked back down at the basement, then back at him. I do it several times before I let out a heavy sigh as I trudged down the stairs. Behind me, I heard the heavy footfalls from Shivers when he followed me.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, my feet hit the floor. I scanned the basement, seeing the stuff that got knocked down by me from last night from the shelves. I sniffed. "Achoo!" The dust particles tickeled the inside of my nose, causing a sneeze to come out. "You should've dusted your basement for once," I told him, watching him pass by to a door on the left side of the door I hadn't noticed before. "This is your house, not mine. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess." He doesn't say anything back, opening up the door. "I don't like it when you're ignoring me," I said, coming over there, feeling like he's treating me like I'm invisible. "You could at least say something - like how you don't want to admit about beating your daughter." I was hoping he'll respond to what I stated, except I heard some rummaging in the small room, turning out to be a closet. I folded my arms over my chest. "See?" I kept on talking, shaking my head. "Everything I say goes from your ear and out the other one. You don't care about your kid. You don't care what she wants in life. I was trying to free her from you and your abusive-"
"I'm not an abuser!" He got tired of my mouth, yelling. "I wouldn't dare lay a finger on her. I love my daughter to not do such a thing." I remain quiet, uncrossing my arms, picking at one of my nails. "I take care of her, home school her, give her food to eat, anything any parent would do. I'm not a monster."
"Yes, you are!" I couldn't help but screech in pure anger. "Stop lying! I know who you really are! Quit making things up! You refuse to tell the truth unlike what my parents would do, the same thing with him! I know what an abusive parent looks like! You're one of them-"
Bang! A loud sound came, making me stop, getting my entire self to flinch, my eyes tightly shut. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing a red-faced Shivers who was shaking in frustration. His breathing became more elaborate, sounding like a wild animal, his teeth pressed tightly together.
I backed away, scared, almost regretting what I was saying. I had to fight off the tears, forcing them to not leak out. I knew what would happen if I did start to cry... I know it all too well... The sound he made triggered memories that keep flooding back...no matter what...
He...he is like one of my parents... The way he stares down at me...the way...the way he speaks... The way his eyes pierce through me like a sharp knife would do...
I can see how Hannah would be petrified of this man, not blaming her on this. She does cover up things, afraid to tell the truth about her own dad.
It's like she's forced to not tell anyone what goes on inside this very house, all thanks to the one who continuously scowled in my direction, his eyes not blinking. My upper teeth bit my lower lip - when I tripped over backwards. I could care less at whatever made me fall as I scooted on the floor, cold to the touch of my hands.
My back made contact with the wall. I was unable to get my own eyes off of the stout man in black where I had to force myself to look away.
He's so much like one of my parents... even though both of them are horrible beings, including... him...
I wasn't sure what made the loud sound and I didn't want to know, either. A voice in my head suggested I should leave, but I knew it would result in something I wouldn't want to find out.
To be sure I make sure to keep my own direction away from Shivers, I turned over, my right side touching the wall this time. My head was down, my hair dangling like a curtain, blocking my vision. I wasn't going to let myself look towards him.
He's too scary...
The tears I've been battling are starting to win because a couple of them slid down my face. I quickly got rid of them. More came where I had to press my fingers over my eyes, to keep the tears from flooding like a waterfall.
Why can't he admit he's a jerk? It isn't hard to miss.
I took my fingers off me, then put them back in the same area. Come on, I upbraided myself, irked, the tears refusing to stop filling my eyes. My top teeth which are still on my bottom lip dug in way too deep to where it felt like I cut into it. At first I thought my lip was bleeding until I figured out it was a bit of saliva running down my chin, as I wiped it off.
I don't get why my aunt doesn't see who the real Mr. Shivers is claiming I shouldn't judge people for the way they act. I'm sorry, she shouldn't say he isn't a bad person due to him locking and yelling at Hannah, especially when he made an excuse when he said his anger got the better of him. Yeah...sure... It's what every horrible person would say. Hats off for them.
And this one who kept his cold look gets a gold star.
I'm being sarky... he doesn't deserve one. He could get a trophy for being the worst parent in history.
...It'd be a lot better if his daughter had a mom...
Besides, I don't believe when he said his wife left, pretending he hadn't done anything terrible to her.
He needs to admit the truth...
I wanted to speak, but my mouth wouldn't allow it. I don't think I could say something thanks to this guy who can create a chill down my spine. I wasn't sure about looking at him now, fearing he's keeping his glower non-stop when he breaks the absence.
"Look," he started, finally getting me to look at him, this time his glare gone. "Part of me feels sorry for you...but what you're saying is downright hurtful and false. I don't go around claiming your own aunt is hurting you, do I? No, because I don't lie..."
"Yes, you do..." I sort of mumbled. "And if you are telling the truth, tell me why the manuscripts have locks on them..." I said sorrowfully.
His face turned a bit pasty. "I like keeping locks on those books," he replied a little too fast. "You don't need to be concerned about it," he advised, coming up to where I'm at. "It isn't your problem...it's mine." He paused for a moment. "We may loathe each other but we need to get things done. In fact, you sitting there isn't going to make the mess down here disappear."
I wanted to snap but decided to suck it up instead. Even though he makes me tick, he is right about this, about me sitting here when nothing could get done when I'm not doing anything.
At least I'm not doing this on my own...
I stood up, drying my eyes to the best of my ability to make sure he didn't know I was almost on the verge of sobbing. I don't want him to think I'm a cry baby, straight off the bat that he doesn't care. In spite of that, it seems like he wouldn't be honest for a long time. Why he keeps Hannah inside, why the books are locked, why two men got out of one of them. Why Hannah had to hold a book down when it started shaking when she talked to it like it was a person.
But I asked this instead while going into the closet. "Why did you tell your kid that you're going to put her back where she belongs? You can't put someone back at all." I found a broom and dustpan, walking out the small area. "She isn't an object...even though you treat her like one..."
"She's my concern, not yours," Shivers countered, hauling what looked to be a dusty metal trash can.
"You don't need to be rude about it," I riposted bitterly.
"Then you shouldn't bring my daughter up!" he shouted, yanking the lid off the trash can. A few spiders crawled out, though he didn't seem to worry about them as they scurried off. "It'll be a lot easier for her to have never met you when you and your aunt moved here. She shouldn't have seen you - ever. Clearly, she has to see you and wants a friend."
"And you forbid her to have one!" I went over to where the mess is at, dropping the dustpan. "Keeping her from making friends is an awful thing to do!" I roughly began sweeping.
"It isn't!" he almost cried out. "I have a reason!"
"By bullying her!"
"I'm not mistreating her!"
"Leave off the fabrication and tell me the truth!"
"Oh, my Lord, I'm not lying!"
"Then spit out the truth!"
"I am..." Shivers took in a breath. "...NOT MISTREATING HER!" he roared, throwing the lid aggressively, heated up. "I don't hit her - at all! What? Did it happen to you? Is that why you think of me as a monster!? You tell me the truth! Then we'll see who's the jerk!"
"No!" I stomped my foot on the hard floor. "I don't want to talk about it!"
"You did say I remind you of them," he called back.
"You are like my parents," I said, not hollering anymore.
"How!? How am I like your family?" My hands gripped tightly on the handle of the broom. "Say it!" he ordered. I shook my head. "You're going to tell me why you think I'm like your parents." Again, I don't respond, my knuckles turning white. "Did they beat you?!"
I swore my heart stopped for a split second, turning to him. "...one of them did...but it doesn't matter. Both of them, as well as him, have been terrible towards me..."
"Why?" he seemed to force out.
"I don't know why, okay!? All I know is they belittle me! I'm not ready to tell anyone about my past!" A lump formed in my throat, leading me to quickly swallow it. "Besides...you don't seem to care."
His eyes widened a bit. "What makes you say that?"
"Because you treat Hannah like yesterday's old trash!"
"For the love of..." Taking off his glasses, Shivers rubbed his closed eyes. It's like he was containing his anger. "Do I have to spell it out for you that I'm not hurting my daughter?"
"I already know the truth; you just don't wanna say it."
"Rrrrr!" A rumble came from his throat, sounding like an angry dog. "You-"
"Is everything alright down there?" Shivers and I turned to see Hannah at the top of the staircase before going down half way. "It sounds like you two are fighting about something," she said.
"We are fighting," I answered, picking up the dustpan with all the broken pieces on it. I made my way to the trash can. "Your dad doesn't want to admit he's a bad man-"
"I'm not-!"
"Shut up!"
"Don't tell me to keep quiet!"
"I don't care; you're still an awful person!"
Fueled by anger, Shivers kicked the trash can, the loud clang causing his daughter to let out a short startled cry, having it roll away, with me standing there with the dustpan not dumped out.
Grabbing both the broom and dustpan, he yanked them out of my hands, stunning me.
"Dad..."
"Get out..." he spoke coldly towards me, like he didn't hear Hannah.
"I thought you wanted me to give you a hand."
"Get...out..." he repeated slowly.
"Gee, did you suddenly change your mind?" I ended up saying with an attitude.
Like I triggered a bomb, Shivers dropped the items, the mess I swept up in the dustpan getting all over the floor once again. "Get out!"
I tsk-tsk. "Poor you, not wanting to confess. You won't confess why the books are locked up, you won't confess on why you treat your daughter unfairly, why you won't confess on why she can't have a friends-"
"I said, get out!" It's like he was about to explode. "Get out and never come back!"
"Aww, thank you so much for letting me help you," I returned scathingly.
"Get out...!" he sizzled. "Now...!"
I huffed. "Fine, at least I can tell aunt Sarah you decided to change your mind - and I totally appreciated it when you brought up memories in my head after the loud sound you made from whatever you used." I went to the staircase until I looked directly at him. "I hope you're proud."
"Ezzy-" I walked past my friend who called out to me. "Ezzy - wait," she said, yet I ignored her again, heading to the front door. "Ezzy." I grasp the doorknob, seeing her coming my way. I turned the knob, opening up the door, stepping outside and off the porch. "Hang on, wait-" she started, when she yelped, having me look over from behind me.
I saw her father clench his fingers on Hannah's shoulder, forcing her back. Hannah tried to pull herself free, yet she couldn't.
I watched as her dad went close to her ear. "Don't you think about going outside," he said in a warning tone. "Are you asking to be put back in your place?" It looked like he was challenging her, for he got a vigorous shake of a head from her. "Hmph...thought so. Now..." He took his hand off of her. "...go back to your room."
"I want to talk to my friend-"
"No, you're not. And you know you cannot have any buddies."
"But-"
"In your room!" he snapped, cutting her off. "Go or else you'll be locked up for the rest of your life!" His threat had me wide-eyed while I could only watch as Hannah helplessly moved away from the front door, her attitude switching from concern to...fear...
Locked...up...? I still cannot understand what this horrid man is talking about. I guess he doesn't see her as a daughter - more of an object then a human being. He isn't making any sense. What's worse, is that I won't get the truth - from both of them, Hannah being in the shadows at night during a cloudless night, too afraid to tell me what goes on inside her dad's house, why her dad has books with locks on them, and her dad not wanting to confess he's a bad father.
I need answers... I don't want to wait any longer... I've done enough waiting...
Shivers was still standing at the doorway, eyeing at me. "Well?" He broke the short silence. "Are you going back home?" he less than pleasantly asked.
"I would - unless both of you give me answers," I replied with authority.
He snickered, messing with his glasses. "Answers, you say...?" I firmly nodded my head. "Well, here's one..." A loud slam was made, along with the same lock on the other side of the door.
I was left with a dropped jaw. "You-" I gave up, annoyed, marching back to my home.
By the time I got inside, I flung my shoes off, my annoyance replaced with...sadness...
My aunt came to where I'm at. "Done already?"
"Shivers told me to get out," I explained depressingly.
"Why?" she asked worriedly. "You didn't make the poor man angry - did you?"
"No..." I went by her. "...he and I had an argument..."
"About what?"
I let out a sigh. "He still won't tell me the truth about abusing-"
"Ezzy..." Aunt Sarah frowned deeply.
"I'm telling you he's hurting Hannah," I protested. "He...He said to her he'll lock her up for the rest of her life!"
"He really said that?"
"Yes! Now do you believe me?"
But aunt Sarah shook her head. "This is nonsense." I opened up to protest again when she raised her hand. "I'll go talk to Mr. Shivers about this."
"No, you can't-" I started, getting stopped again.
"I'll even ask him if I can come into his house this time," she said, putting on her sneakers. "I want to know what it looks like from inside."
"His house is nice - really...nice..." I mumbled, loud enough for her to hear.
I'm not wrong, when I was forced into the house by Mr. Creep - yes, I'm keeping the name - does indeed have a nice home from being a disgusting guy who doesn't love his offspring. He may have a nice home both inside and out, it doesn't match his personality.
I stood there, watching my aunt walk out of the house. She told me she'll be back in a few minutes or so.
When she shut the door, I went to my room. I grabbed my phone, opening up Messenger, went onto Hannah's name, and texted her.
You okay? I sent it. It doesn't take long for her to respond.
Yes, I'm okay, she returned. I'm sorry about my dad.
You don't need to be sorry, he should be in jail-
He isn't a bad person once you get to know him.
I rubbed my eyes when she didn't let me finish, having me erase what I was going to say. I already know who he is...
Ezzy...please...
He treats you horribly, he has books locked up, two men came out of one of them after I unlocked one of them before you put them back in, another almost opened by itself with you holding it down, speaking to it, and I still want to know why you refer to nights that are cloudy. From my text, it seemed I was getting embitter, and I was...a little... Hannah... All I want is the truth. From you and your dad. What is going on?
After I sent her this one, it took some time for her to respond. I cannot tell you...
Why?
It's a... you know what? I'm sorry, but I won't tell you. And no, my dad won't tell you either. She wasn't being rude, she's too scared to speak up about the truth - with all my unanswered questions.
I rapidly messaged her back. Please, I pleaded urgently. I...I want to help you.
If I tell you, I'll be in major trouble.
Like your dad threatening to lock you up? The hell is he talking about? He's treating you like a slave driver.
There was a pause - a long pause - until she typed back in return. How about we throw this conversation away? We need to talk about something else.
Reading her wording, it took me a minute to think about it.
She wants to avoid the topic, to avoid being...hurt... Letting out a defeated sigh, I gave her my reply.
Okay...we can throw this subject in the trash. I really don't want to, but I guess I have no choice.
Thanks... I still wish you could smile. I want you to be happy.
For what?
You know, for having a friend. Do I make you...happy...?
It's enough to... I dunno... I don't know what to say, Hannah.
Nah, it's nothing to worry about. So, when are you starting school?
Honestly, I have no idea. I wish my aunt wasn't going to be a Math teacher.
I think you should be proud of her for picking a new job, even though you lack a smile. You know my dad once had a job but he retired early.
What was his career? I was curious.
I don't remember. Looking at her sentences, it was difficult if she's lying or not. It was before I was around.
...I see... I stopped typing for a second and went on. Before you were born, huh?
You could say that.
...what?
Never mind. So...uh... Anything new?
...Not really... the same boring stuff... I went to the park yesterday...
Nice. I haven't been to the park yet.
How come?
You know...because of my dad.
Oh... Part of me wants to pressure her to come clean about her dad's behavior, but I'd rather avoid an argument. Like, I want to know what's going on in the household, except I know I wouldn't get any answers.
Especially why there are locked up manuscripts in Shivers' study...
Exhaling, I carried on. It's too bad you don't have a mom...
However, after I sent that to her, I felt my heart pinch with regret, knowing right away it wasn't a good thing to give to her.
I'm such an idiot...
I was about to apologize when she gave me her text.
I know. I wished I did have a mother. Although, having a dad isn't bad either for all of his strictness.
Uh huh... Truth be told, strict parents are horrible parents since it reminded me of my own parents. Will your dad EVER let you have any fun? He knows he cannot keep you forever, I texted, knowing how right I am.
We do fun things together, Hannah typed back.
Like what...? I was starting to get anxious about what their 'fun' is.
We watch movies together.
That's it?
No, we play board games. I win all the time. Like I said, my dad isn't a bad person once you get to know him.
I wanted to get mad, but my depression kept me from doing it. ...I don't want to get to know him... My aunt told me I shouldn't judge anyone, but he's...creepy...
He can be scary, but I'm telling you he's a nice guy.
Getting that message, I rolled my eyes in disbelief. Sure...a nice guy who likes to threaten you, I thought to myself. He sounds like my dad when he terrorized me back when I used to live with him, my mom, and...him... leading to violence.
Thinking about it made my body feel achy...as if I got hit...
I know deep down her father is damaging her, breaking her down... I should call the cops, but in the back of my mind, it's saying no. My plan to get Hannah out of the house backfired, so I don't have any other ideas.
I know calling the police would work, except I wasn't sure about it... maybe someone else could? But who would, though? My aunt wouldn't do it, and she'll tell me not to call the cops, either.
I'm not one of those girls who are damsels in distress. You know, the ones who need saving from a terrible situation. I was trying to save Hannah like a friend would do.
Actually, I should fix up what I said about not being the damsel in distress. Her dad does give me the...shivers... The rest of the time, I'm not afraid of him - for the most part that is.
Hannah on the other hand is the same way from what I saw from her. It looks like she isn't afraid of anything as far as I can tell.
Apart from her dad. She's fearful of him. When Shivers is present, her attitude transforms her into a different person. Her grin will be washed off, getting replaced with a scared look, sensing her dad's harshness invading off of him...and I can sense it, as well...
I suddenly got startled when I heard a ding sound, almost dropping my phone. I calmed down quickly when I realized I forgot that I was chatting with her.
Are you still there? she asked, her words sounding like she was concerned when I hadn't responded back. We can talk tonight at our secret hideout, she decided for the best.
Her dad hadn't figured out that she sneaks out at night... I wonder how long it'll take for him to figure it out and not just think he catches her outside in his front yard.
I texted back. I'm here. I was...deep in my own thoughts. By the way, my aunt is talking to your dad.
I know, I can hear him. What are they talking about anyway?
Well, I told my aunt that your dad said he'll lock you up for the rest of your life.
We threw that kind of talk in the garbage. Did you forget? I couldn't tell if she was angry or joking.
I didn't forget. I guess it won't go away... is all I can say in text form. It's lame, I know, but it's true. I mean, why would her dad say that to her?
It's something I need to figure out on my own...
A speech bubble came with the three moving dots, indicating she's texting back like I see every time. I waited until the dots got replaced with sentences from her.
I want you to at least try to forget it, okay? I'm not angry at you for saying about my dad locking me up for all eternity, it's that... honestly, he can say things he does mean to say. He does actually get angry even at the smallest things. We have our arguments like a lot of people have, it doesn't mean he does care for me. The thing he gets mad about is me being outside...and me hanging out with you. He doesn't want me to socialize with anyone out in this world because he fears something is going to happen to me.
Scanning this, I want to accuse her for making excuses, except if I do, she will end up not being my friend.
She's my only friend I have ever had... I recall her dad exclaiming that kids made his life miserable, with her trying to chill him out. It's hard for me to believe when he ranted about his past life, knowingly he made it up.
Or was he making it up...? Ugh... I don't know what to think of him. He's making up things to make Hannah feel like a burden. The burden is Shivers, not her.
I rubbed my head for a bit when I thought I remembered something, so I texted her in return. Hannah...if anything does seriously happen in that house, I need to know. I...I'm worried about you. In fact, to be honest, I never felt worried about thinking of others... I guess It's from the lack of having friends...
You mean...you never had any friends until I came into your life? Hannah's text asked.
...mhm... I rather not talk about it. Just like how I don't talk about my parents and him, I don't want to talk about why no one wants to be my friend.
You can tell your past when you're open enough to do it.
I thought about it then texted her. I won't be open to tell my past.
You don't know that.
I...just don't want to talk about it... I told my therapist back in Maryland about my past, so I guess I have to do the same for my new one - whenever my aunt does find one here.
Then why couldn't you tell anyone else?
I wasn't sure how to respond to this one. She's right, about not telling anyone else my past before I was a teenager. In fact, I felt like it was nobody else's business, although Shivers reminds me of my parents, especially one of them. All I'm saying is...I don't want her to know what happened to me before my aunt took me in.
Still unsure what to say, I came up with something else. When do you want to meet at our secret hideout? And be sure to have back my phone number that I gave on that small slip of paper, my text reminded her. My aunt did say I can use it whenever I go to school if anyone would want my number.
We can meet once my dad goes to bed. And I'll give back your phone number.
Thanks... even now, your dad doesn't know your secret.
Heh, yeah, I get that. I have to make sure it doesn't slip out. There was a laughing emoji. If it does, he'll more likely ground me.
Or beat you up where you aren't alive anymore... is what I want to say. I rabidly tapped on the letters on my cell phone.
It's a good thing you're not grounded for what you're doing behind his back. I thought about what I was going to say next before going back to typing. I wish he wasn't...strict.
Every parent is different from others, Ezzy. See you later tonight.
See ya... With my final message, I messed with my phone, checking out all the apps from Facebook to Snapchat. I even saw a YouTube app on it. This phone literally has a ton of apps I haven't used in my life with the lack of experience with having one of these things.
Fiddling with it, I went onto something called Instagram, seeing I have to make an account either using Google or Facebook.
Fairly, I hadn't made an account. I'm not sure how to do it.
I can probably ask Hannah...? I should but...does she know how to make an account? Does she have any of these apps?
I shook my head. Her dad most likely doesn't allow her to have different apps on her phone, I believed grimly.
Deciding to do this on my own, I found a circle - red on the top, then yellow, then green, with a blue dot in the middle. I tapped it, unsure what it was.
It opened up, showing a few, I guess, sites. I found a letter G with the word Google underneath it, getting me to tap it with my pointer finger.
I saw that I have no account on here. Hmm... I wasn't sure how to make an account... Messing with Google, my eyes landed on something on what appeared to be a profile pic of...nothing... it was blank, no picture at all.
Unsure what would happen, my finger tapped on it, leading me to what seems to be the next step.
Looking at it with a lifeless feeling, it says I have to make an account. Yeah, of course, like I had to be reminded. However, it doesn't look difficult to do, either... I have to put my name and Email address, except... I don't have an Email address...
I got out of the app, scrolled through my phone, and came across Gmail.
Huh... I let my finger touch it, wanting to see what this one is.
It came up, except I wasn't in, stating I have no choice but to make an account. Hadn't made one in my life, I got out of it, tapping my finger on this Google thing. I'm like those types of people who hadn't grown up with the Internet, where they have to use their imagination to get by each day. My mind is a complete utter blank, my eyes bored at the empty profile picture...unsure how to make an account. They landed on the search bar.
Tapping on it, a keyboard came up on the screen, looking like the computer ones. It'll set up like one, as well - almost like one. I had to kind of explore and play around with it to know how to use it.
I wish I hadn't lacked technology...
Managing to figure out the phone keyboard, I tapped on the letters, forming a sentence on the search bar.
How do I make a Google account?
I checked to make sure it sounded correct before tapping on magnifying glass on the same search bar.
It gave me the answer. All I have to do is tap on the profile pic of nothing, tap on create account, make my own Gmail account and create a password.
Easy enough for me...doesn't have too many steps.
I began making my account when I heard someone coming up the steps. Lowering my cell phone, I saw none other than my aunt.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I kept working on making my account when she spoke to me from the doorway.
"I talked to Mr. Shivers on what you told me. He explained that he doesn't mean to say such a thing to his child... It's due to anger. He has been telling me about what he says when he hits his boiling point. We don't need to worry about Hannah; she's in good hands."
I gave her a questioning eye. "In good hands...? He lied in your face."
"He isn't a liar, Ezzy..." she sighed tiredly. "He's a worried father, is all." I rolled my eyes, refusing to believe what she was told by the monster next door from us. "I want you to stop being concerned about what he says to his daughter. It isn't our responsibility to-"
"I know she isn't our responsibility!" I snapped, unable to help it. "She needs to have a better parent, someone who doesn't threaten the life out of her. You don't see it, when Hannah is with me, she's joyful like the sun. During her dad's presence, her mood changes," I went on, all fired up. "All you see is one side of it - refusing to believe me! You need to quit thinking he's a nice man-"
"Knock it off!" I shut my mouth when I got yelled at, quickly placing one of my pillows over my face to keep myself from screaming. "I don't get it," my aunt continued worried. "Ever since I got you out of the horrid ordeal, you have this audacity in mind to think everyone is bad. I...part of me is believing you could have a paranoid disorder of how you're acting..." I moved my pillow, enough to see her eyes water. "I hope someday...someday...you'll see how not everyone is horrible. I understand some are terrible...yet..." She ran her whole hand over her hair. "...you shouldn't say that to everybody..."
Feeling guilty, I sat up. "...you have an open heart...I don't... the only ones I trust are you and Hannah... Shivers - I mean, Mr. Creep - is an awful human being." My eyes narrowed at my own aunt. "I'm sorry to say this, but...you are delusional..."
It looked like she was about to snip until she changed her mind, leaving me alone.
I got up and shut my door. I sat back on my bed and finished my Google account.
Exiting it, I went back into Instagram, making my account. I put my name, username, my gender. I also put down my bio. It says: My heart is torn... my mind is empty...
I would put a profile pic of myself, except I don't want to take a selfie. Instead, I kept it the way it is. Empty like how I am.
Getting out of it, I sat there, placing my phone next to me. I feel bad for what I called my aunt, except she needs to know the truth. She is delusional.
I kept on sitting there, looking at the clock on my phone. I had plenty of time to see my friend... Getting up, I went over to my bookcase, grabbing a Goosebumps book titled The Ghost Next Door. Cracking it to the first chapter, I began to read. It seems like I go from one book to another without finishing any of them.
I think I saw this title on the bookcase from inside Shivers' home, locked like the others.
It's too bad I won't know why they're locked up, even though I unlocked one already but it doesn't answer the question clearly enough.
It's too bad Shivers won't admit he's a monster to Hannah. It's too bad that Hannah doesn't want to tell me the truth of what goes on in the house where she and her dad reside... she deserves better...
As I read, going from one page to another, I rubbed the band-aid on my open scar, recalling how I got it in the first place. I shook my head, getting rid of the dark memory.
Hours upon hours went by when I heard aunt Sarah calling me that dinner was ready.
I put my book away, grabbed my phone, opening up my door. The smell of dinner invaded the air, as I walked out of my room, down the steps, and made my way to the kitchen.
There, I saw we were having pot roast, corn, and mashed potatoes with gravy. Aunt Sarah got her plate ready. Seeing me, she gestured at the food without a word.
I felt like she was upset with me calling her delusional, making me feel like I should crawl into a hole and die. Well, not die...just to go in and don't come out.
I gather my own plate of what we're having. Sitting down at the table, I glued my eyes onto what I have in front of me.
"Sorry for what I called you..." I mustered out. I picked up my fork. "It was wrong of me to say such a thing..." I looked up to see her not looking at me. "I won't understand why you think Mr. Creep is a friendly guy..."
I don't know if it's my dull attitude or what I said, she lifted her head to look towards my way. "Calling him names won't change my mind of how I view him."
"...it's how he is..." I muttered quietly, enough for her to not be able to hear it. I roughly ate my pot roast first.
"You know..." I swallowed when she began to speak. "I should let you get along with Shivers..." I went on eating as she continued. "He could be another friend for you."
I almost choked on my pot roast, forcing it down my throat. "Friend? An adult like him, my friend? I'd rather have Hannah than him to be my pal."
"Give him a chance..." Aunt Sarah seemed to plead. "You gave Hannah a chance to be your friend."
"She isn't a creep like her dad," I said none the wiser.
"Ezzy..."
"I don't care what you say, he won't be my other friend. He hates me like how he hates his daughter. You can be on his side all you want to; it doesn't change my point of view of him."
"I'm on no one's side."
"It looks like you are on one. You believe what he tells you instead of believing your own niece."
Frowning, she came over to me, giving me a hug. "You know what you said isn't true."
It is true... is what I want to reply with. Instead, I had no other option, I had to nod, in spite of what I thought of our neighbor.
She went back to her chair, going back to eating while I ate slowly...
After dinner was over, I helped put it away. Afterwards, I got my phone. "Hannah wants her and I to meet at our secret hideout," I told my aunt.
"No problem," she said, washing one of the pots. "Don't be out too late," she called out as I left the kitchen to get my shoes on.
Opening up the door, I was greeted by a partially cloudy night rather than a full on one. I can see the moon peeking out from the dark cloud before it disappeared.
Maybe Hannah likes partial cloudy nights, too, I thought to myself. I know she refers to cloudy nights for unknown reasons rather than no cloudy nights. There's gotta be a reason why she lives those kinds of nights.
I went onward, reaching out to a secret hideout. Whether I got here first or not, I entered inside the abandoned house.
I called out, my voice echoing. "Hannah?" No answer. "Hannah, I'm here!" I shouted a bit louder. "Hannah!" I received no response, indicating I got here before her.
I wasn't sure where to go inside this dusty home. I decided I'll explore the rooms I hadn't seen yet.
The stairs creaked underneath my feet as I made my way up. A nagging fear came over, thinking one will break off how old these are. I had to be extra, extra careful. The whole house may collapse at any day despite being made out of bricks.
Do brick houses collapse like any old home? I sure hope it doesn't fall - it's the only place where I can be alone with my friend without her dad giving any problems for he is the problem.
I found a room that I believe I hadn't been into. The door was closed, the doorknob covered in rust.
The rust felt rough to the touch. At first, I had difficulty turning the knob. I managed to twist it hard enough, getting it open.
The door squealed when it did, sounding like a mouse looking for food.
It was dark. I could barely see. Carefully, I walked into the room when I felt something brush against my forehead. Startled out of my skin, it didn't take me long to figure out it was a chain.
"Does this turn on the light?" I wondered aloud. "It's an old house...although..." In theory, I pulled the chain.
The light turned on, surprisingly. Not much of how it wasn't bright enough though it's enough to see otherwise.
I saw boxes - lots of boxes - everywhere around the room.
Wanting to know what's inside of them, I went to the first box. Opening it up, I saw old magazines, the pages yellowed with age.
Another one is filled with toys I hadn't seen before.
Good through each one, of each box, I stumble upon an old mirror.
Caked with dust, I used my hand to wipe it away, seeing my unhappy face. Truth be told, there are days where I'm disgusted about my emotion I have - sadness. My meds hadn't worked and on top of it, I doubt therapy can work. My last one back home hadn't done anything to make me feel better... not like it was my last doctor's fault...
Whenever I think about myself, I think about how I hated myself for who I am. I may not be like Hannah who is in a joyous mood - unless her dad's around, I couldn't figure out how anyone can be happy. Life is a miserable rock waiting to be thrown in a deep ditch...where I like to be.
More so - or perhaps the failed attempt - I don't have any idea how to create a fake grin. It doesn't happen to me. My depression wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow me to create a smile that isn't...real.
Dark thoughts invaded, my pathetic emotion slowly turning into wrath. I brought my head back, ramming it onto the mirror.
Whether this mirror is fragile or I somehow found my hidden strength, however, whatever the cause was, I made a crack on the glass. The force of myself banging my forehead on it got my head to spin as I fell to the floor...
My unconsciousness seemed to last for hours when I felt something - or someone - gently shaking me. I heard my name being called.
"Ezzy...Ezzy..."
I finally got my eyes to open up. "...huh... wha...?" I sat up, slowly, blinking. "...I..." My forehead was throbbing. "Ngh..." I went to rub the pain when a hand stopped my own.
"Don't touch it." I yanked my hand away from hers, going to place it on my forehead where it hurts. "You're bleeding," Hannah attempted again. "You may have a glass or two." Carefully, she plucked one out.
I flinched, giving her a disapproving look. "Ow..."
"Sorry..." She went to get the other one, halting. "I should see if this place has a first-aid kit..." First-aid kit? She doesn't say anything else, getting up off the floor while I sat there, feeling the blood start to run down.
I better not cut myself too deeply...
Ten minutes later of me sitting here on the dusty floor, Hannah came back.
"Found it!" she declared. I paid no attention when she opened it up when she sat on her knees. "Let's see..." I felt what could be a rag, drawing back when she got to cut but kept my eyes on the dirty floor. She put the rag back in the first-aid kit, pulling out tweezers used for when someone gets a splinter.
It wasn't too bad when she got it out. She sighed with relief. My guess is she thought it would be worse when it's no other than a small piece, though not as small as the last one.
The next thing I wasn't prepared for was a burning sensation. It snapped me out of it like I got woken up with hot oil dipped onto me. It felt like hot oil. I started to shuffle backwards, standing up before I tumbled over a box.
Harshly landing, I went to get up, my eyes watering, the fire getting worse.
What did she use?! It doesn't feel like the stuff I used on my reopened scar.
My vision got blurry from agony, unable to see. I was like a scared animal trying to escape.
It seemed like this burning sensation wouldn't go away - until I tripped again. I don't know how, but I somehow got tangled up.
It took me a few seconds to clear my eyesight to see that there are some old ropes that are hanging up from the wall by several pipes.
Who has the right mind to have these? The last people who owned this house better not be psychos unless they have a talent for roping.
I began to untangle myself when the ropes got tighter.
"Excuse me!" I cried out when I saw Hannah tightening them more. "I'm not an animal!" I squirmed against the rough material. "Untie me this instant!" I was on my side - my right one like the first time - trying my hardest to get free.
"I can't continue putting whatever this on you when you're moving around," she explained, feeling bad.
I don't care what she's saying right now, all I want to do is get her to stop whatever she's doing.
"Untie me!" I demanded repetitively. I pulled hard. My movements weren't much - the ropes around my chest and midsection, my legs unable to kick, my hands wrapped with the other rope tightened by the other ones. It made it difficult for me to swat at her.
Not that I would do such a thing but I swear I want to this time...
"Hannah - untie me!" My chest tightened with panic. "I don't like it!"
"Neither do I, Ezzy." She went back on her knees. "If I had something less...painful, I would use it." I growled under my breath doing all I can to get free. "I don't think you need stitches..."
"I should've known you were a nurse."
"I'm not."
"I was being sarcastic...ow!" I let out a scream when she dabbed my cut of whatever she was using. "You know, my pain tolerance isn't high - it's low. I think you should - ow! - stop!" I went to move my head away when my friend pinned it down. "...does your dad do this to you...?"
"No," she replied in answer. "My dad doesn't do what I did to you," she said, laughing a bit.
Liar...
I gave up on my squirming, deciding for the best to stay still as much as I could.
...it wasn't easy... "What is that stuff anyway?"
Hannah shrugged. "Beats me. I don't have this stuff at home. I hope - and pray - that this isn't expired."
"Checking the date should tell you..." I advised.
"It doesn't have one, it's been torn off."
"Great..."
By the time she was done, a band-aid was placed on. She got me untied and I sat up.
I sort of want to beat her for what she'd done but I refuse due to her being my only friend in this boring town.
A friend with an abusive father who shouldn't have a child in the first place.
Hannah went through some boxes while I sat there. I was kind of dizzy from the falls I made when I tried to escape from her.
"Look - old books." I watched with silence as she pulled one out. It was a thick leather bound one, the cover slightly torn, the color of a scarlet red. "My dad would enjoy these," she happily stated. She opened it up. Some paper - lose paper - fell out of it. "On second thought..." She changed her mind. "...my dad doesn't like books falling apart." She tossed it behind her. "Maybe there's one that won't break apart..." Going through each one, pages fell out, the book covers coming off when she picked them up.
While she was throwing them backwards, my dizziness went away where I can stand up and join her.
Despite these books being aged, they aren't dusty or dirty - just falling apart.
"You aren't gonna find a novel in good condition," I told her undoubtedly. I got myself to pick one up in my hands. I opened it and, like the other ones, the pages left their binding. "These books could be about over a hundred years old," I stated, flipped towards the back. No date was written. It wasn't written on the front, either. I shut the book, giving it a light throw away from the two of us.
I quit going through more books, when Hannah beamed out in delight. "Aha! Got one." Pulling out a black, hardback book with a golden spine. On the front is a title written in a jagged way. "Creepy Tales To Make You Quiver," she read what it says.
I blinked. "Sounds like it's similar to a book series..." I pondered, looking up at the ceiling. "I believe they are called...
"Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark," she gave the name of the title. "A book series about urban legends, three books only by Alvin Schwartz, the illustration by Stephen Gammell. I have those books - with the original drawings - given by my dad."
A disapproving grim line formed on my lips. I wanted to force her to tell me the truth. There's no way a cruel dad will get his offspring books, even if they are passed down to her.
I knew forcing her won't do anything. I twirled my hair with my finger when I opened my mouth.
"You have to tell me what is going on... being with me, you're in a good mood. Your dad being present..."
"There's nothing going on, Ezz," Hannah calmly reassured, getting back up, the book in her left hand, holding it by the spine. "My dad and I have our arguments; it's normal."
"Normal," I dismissed in stupefaction. "Shivers telling you about locking you is somehow normal to you. It doesn't explain why you act differently."
It looked like she wanted to shout, instead she blew a hair strand. "We agreed on putting the 'locked for life' away from our text messages. Luckily, my dad hasn't known I've been texting you." She smiled like she was trying to defuse the awful situation within her home. "The contact I can have is his - until I included yours - onto it. I swear, he texts me almost every day to check if I'm inside." She put on a discouraging view, removing her smile. "Now the security systems have been ruined, he'll be more likely to do it more. You don't have any idea much he checks on me."
"Makes me wanna sock the dimwit in the nose," I groused bitterly.
"Pardon?" My thoughts on what I want to do to her dad weren't heard since I talked underneath my breath. "You aren't gonna punch my dad." She has heard them...oops... "He's an adult, hitting doesn't solve anything."
Not if it... I stopped my closed thoughts from there. "...Let's go home..." I lazily gave a tiny kick at the box.
"We can go to the cemetery..." I raised my hand, waving it side to side to signal no thank you. "Let's get a move on, shall we."
Letting her lead the way, we got out of the old brick house, the clouds opening up the moon, the light casting down like a curtain.
Like usual, Hannah avoided it like it would attack her. Whenever a cloud covers it up, she resume on the pathway, whenever it moves away, she goes within the shadows making it difficult to see her without any light.
On the point of returning to her and her dad's house, she turned to me, pulling something out of her pocket. "Here you go; said you want this back."
I took the slip of paper from her fingers. "...thanks..." I ungratefully took it with a deadpan expression.
"I want to see you be happy," she hoped, her eyes filled with wonder on why I remained expressionless. "All I see every time is a dead frown."
I wasn't sure what to say... she hadn't thought less of anything about me. My hope is for her to stop worrying about me, but I told her I don't want to talk about it - at least not now.
I can tell her when I'm ready...if I'm ready.
She went to say more when the two of us cried out, her scream louder than mine when a loud bang sound came from the front door.
"Hannah...!" Shivers rumbled deeply. "Get...over here...!" He was seething like a furiousess lion, his teeth tightly together. My friend slowly turned around, the book in her grip. "I said get over here!" her dad enforced, pointing at the porch.
She went over to him with tentative steps, me close behind her. "I got you a book..."
"Inside..." he fizzed, taking her by the arm, practically tossing her in, her yelping in the process. "I swear, I will-"
"Let her be," I spoke up, defending his daughter.
"Trying to stand up for her," he leered. "It's nice to see someone be concerned for her."
"Unlike you," I pointed to him.
Smiling coyly, he pushed his glasses up, his eyes giving out mockingly. "Poor you," he called me. "You won't ever know what goes on inside our peaceful home no matter what is happening," he said, failing to see one of my hands turning into a fist.
"I know what's going on; your daughter is too afraid to say it."
"Hm, hm, hm." I gritted my teeth when he released a few short snickers. "She knows our little secret, knowing what will hap-"
I couldn't take it anymore, ramming my fist - hard - to his nose, his glasses flinging off of him. He cried out as blood rained down him like a waterfall. I glowered with his blood on my knuckles.
"Ah, God! My God! My nose! You broke it!" My eyes didn't stop glaring, the blood continuing to run down his nostrils, dripping off his chin.
"Dad!" Hannah came to his aid. "What happened!?"
"Your precious friend slugged my nose!" he exclaimed, squinting his eyes. "This is another reason why you shouldn't make any friends - because of what she did!"
Unexpectedly, my friend glared in my direction. "How could you!?"
"I gave him what he deserved," I returned, watching as he struggled to find his glasses, the ichor creating a puddle on the porch. "I did say I'm gonna punch him and I did. He needs a lesson-"
"I'll give you a lesson!" Shivers roared aggressively. "Don't punch people!" he screeched, successfully finding his glasses. "I hate you more than ever!"
"I hate you, too!" I screamed back, ready to do it again.
"Apologize!"
"No!"
"Now - say you're sorry!"
"You're a jerk to Hannah - my only friend!"
"Say you're sorry or else I'm going to have you thrown in jail for assault!"
"I refuse!"
An angry cry escaped from his mouth, before he started spitting when his blood got into it. I hadn't known Hannah left his side when she returned with bundles of paper towels.
He took them, cleaning off his lips and chin, then placed them on his nose. He seemed to knife me through his own gaze, cutting into it. He cringed. "My nose..."
"...are you going to be okay?" Hannah asked nervously, reaching to him.
"If you did break my nose, I will make things worse for you," he swore, ignoring her. "Want me to hit you? Huh?!"
"I don't like threats," I spat out. "Especially when they're towards her."
"They're warnings, not threats," he said. I went to make a snappy comeback when he talked again. "I can't believe you did this to me. I bet you actually broke it." Removing the paper towels, stained with blood, more came out. "It won't stop, thank you."
"...dad..."
Shivers pushed his teenage kid inside. "Make sure there's paper towels on the coffee table, I need to try to stop the bleeding. If I'm unable to, I'm going-" He snapped his eyes my way. "-to the hospital to get it checked out."
He walked by, shutting the door, locking it up.
I let out a soft grunt, heading back to my house, the blood from him staining my fingers...
