Spookychild’s writings

“Suzie,” Samuel spoke softly.  And he felt himself choke up with tears. He had thought that she was dead and here she was alive and a prisoner.  No matter how long the last two years and three months felt to him, they had probably felt like a lifetime to her.  He was sure he couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrible things she had been through. He glanced up at the man again, wondering if he, too, had hurt Suzie.

Suzie couldn’t even say Samuel’s name. She tried to blink the tears away to see Samuel’s eyes when he said her name. But she couldn’t. She shook her head and sobbed. Her eyes might as well be closed.

Samuel felt a few tears fall out of his eyes. She was only confirming more and more to him that she wasn’t sick and was a prisoner. He felt frustrated. He would, if she understood, stand up now and knock the man out and take her out of here. But he needed to know if there were babies. And if there were cameras, did Jaxson have someone else that would help him? He could take on one or two guys at a time. But if he knocked out the fake orderly. Would it only be Jaxson who came next, or would there be more people.

 Finally. Samuel knew there was only one way to communicate with her. He worked his hand into his pocket and took the note he had written out, and slipped it into the palm of his hand. She was still crying. Her eyes were closed now. Samuel was sure that she thought that this was their only meeting. No. Samuel would not rest until he saw her again and got an answer to this question. Even if he had to break down the door.

“Suzie!”  He whispered, reaching out his hand towards her. “ Suzie, don’t cry. I’m here for you I will be here for you.”

Suzie opened her eyes, and for a second, she saw his arm outstretched towards her. She suddenly remembered the dream. He was in the dream. This happened in her dream. She hesitated only a second, and then she reached out her hand towards his. She didn’t speak, she only stretched out till it hurt and their fingers brushed. Samuel grasped her hand tightly with his. She looked up into his eyes. He was looking at her earnestly. It wasn’t how he was looking at her a few minutes before. Then he had looked shocked and concerned. Now he looked urgent and determined.

Dixon had been sitting by Kia‘s mother, his head on his paws.  But when Kia entered the room  he had stood up. He had followed her to the kitchen. He was now standing in the doorway, panting, and staring at her. Looking at him one could see the only thing on his mind was food.

Kia watched him while she moved and he watched her. She filled his bowl. She paused and waited as Sandy entered the kitchen. She impatiently approached him, crying. She walked under his head and rubbed her tail along his neck. Dixon never moved but continued to watch Kia. She laughed and put his dish down saying “OK.” If that was Dixon’s que to go to his dish. He proceeded to inhale.

Sandy was a different story. She was fed on the corner table. Can you put her food on the table and step back. Sandy meowed and looked at Kia.” Go on it is on the table.” Sandy meowed again and stood up walking by Kia and rubbing her tail on her legs. Kia let out a snort, picked Sandy up and placed her in front of her food dish. Sandy inspected it and sniffed. Then she looked up at Kia, as if saying “Are you sure this is mine?” Then she turned back and began to eat gingerly.

Kia watched her for a moment. Something had occurred to her. If things had gone according to plan last night Sandy would be an orphan again. Kia would be in the river, or the morgue, or in the hospital at very least. Kia’s mom would not be on the computer, playing around. And neither Dixon nor Sandy would have gotten breakfast.

The thoughts felt so strange to Kia. last night was so distant, it was a dream or a nightmare. She had not jumped. She had wanted to last night, but she had not been able to. There was no regret either way, she did not feel sorry for what she had almost done. She did not feel sorry for her mom or her cat. Well, she did feel a little sorry for her cat. she did not feel sorry that she had not been able to do it, not right now. She did feel sorry at the time. She had been mad, she had been furious. Now she was only on decisive about what should have happened, or even what had happened. It was too unreal, , the night, the bridge, and he,

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He helped me out then; he stood and pulled me to my feet. He had a towel on the sink, and he turned to grab it, but I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed him. He was so warm. My body was going crazy with excitement.

Erik turned back and wrapped the towel around my shoulders, and slowly, he dried my hair and back. I could feel something in his pants poking just below my belly button. I gave him another squeeze and lifted my head. “You are the best.” I breathed. And I pulled back and grabbed the towel with my right hand, slipping it under my elbow and dragging it around my body. I got it over most of the essential parts.

Then he did the same from the other side of the towel. He gave me a toothbrush, and I brushed my teeth. Then he handed me some Tylenol, and He led me to his bedroom and handed me a water bottle and one of his shirts. “Would you like a pair of boxers to wear on your bottom half?” He asked, softly.

I gazed up at him. I was tingling all over. I was going to be fully dressed in his clothes sleeping in his bed with him. I nodded, and he handed me a pair from the drawer. He took my hand then and leaned closer to me, and kissed my forehead. “Sweetie, I will pop into the shower for a few minutes.” He kissed my hand. “Why don’t you dress and get comfortable. We still have to put on the creams and Band-Aids.” He grabbed another shirt and boxers and gave me one final kiss.

I took the pills and dressed as soon as he left the room; I was able to pull the oversized T-shirt onto my arms first and then over my head with only my right hand. I also got the boxers on. 

I sat down, feeling awkward. He had told me to lay down, but he was naked now in the other room, taking a shower, and just for a moment, I toyed with being like Erik’s girlfriend Ann and sneaking into the bathroom to seduce him.

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He was there virtually in the same spot that he had been the first time. But this time, he didn’t wait for me to call Buddy’s name. He jumped to his feet and walked toward me, saying, “hello Carrie, how are you doing today?”

I replied, “fine, thank you and yourself?”. He smiled at me. But I saw him glancing down. I was not sure at what. I told myself, as I turned and walked him to an empty room, that he had not been looking at my arms; he was looking at my scrubs. But my brain thought differently. But I could be wrong.

Ben was as chatty as the first time. He told me that he had given all the medication to Buddy and that he seemed much better. But then he asked me a question that made my stomach flip.

“Do you have a dog?” He asked, changing the subject

I turned from the computer and looked at him, petrified. I remembered suddenly thinking that I had seen him on Sunday walking buddy. “ yes,” I said, hoping my voice was not too obviously terrified.

“What kind?” He asked, still gazing at me.

“She’s a golden retriever,” I said without hesitation, but I was yelling at myself inside my head.

“I think I saw you walking her last Sunday.” He explained, smiling at me. “Buddy is very dog friendly.” He added. “You do not have to cross the street when you see us. He loves you and would love to meet your dog. I would too.”

I was speechless. I stared at him, unable to think of words for longer than it was proper.

Before I knew it he was talking again. “ if you don’t have any plans, maybe we could meet this weekend for a play date?” 

I swallowed hard. “ it’s my…. My birthday this weekend, and I have plans.” I blurted out.

Ben hardly blinked. “ that’s all right. I’ll give you my number, and if you change your mind that way, you  have it.” He took out a small piece of paper and handed it to me. He brushed my freezing fingers again. On it was a handwritten telephone number.

“Call me anytime or text; it doesn’t have to be about a play date.” He was looking into my eyes earnestly.

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Cameron watched Sophia sleep for a while. He had been hoping she could tell him what had been on her mind, but he was not surprised when she did not have the strength. He was disappointed, of course, but not surprised. Cameron removed her fluids and exchanged them for new ones. He went upstairs and went outside to look at the sun and found it indeed late afternoon, by the location of the giant ball of fire. He checked the perimeter and found the bloody pants and an empty backpack by the bathroom window. He moved the bucket back to it is the original location. He took the pants and wrapped them up, and threw them in the garbage can. But he brought the backpack inside and put it by the front door. Cameron checked all the windows and doors, securing them.

 He decided that it had been enough time to give her more pain medicine. He went back downstairs and added some to her drip. Then he checked the number of antibiotics and found it low and added some. He sighed and watched her sleep for a while. He knew she would sleep for a time now. Her sleep before had been fever-induced. Now it was time for her to heal, and that meant lots and lots of rest.

He went to the other bed not bothering to pick the medical book back up. He was tired. He had not been getting much sleep recently anyway. And the stress of trying to heal someone he cared about so much was enough to drain the energy he had. It was time to nap with Sophia sleeping in the bed beside him.

It was not long before he was asleep and dreaming again of Sophia. In Cameron’s dream, Sophia had been injured. He noticed the blood caking her jeans. She was burying a body. Cameron wanted to help Sophia because she was on her hands and knees. But he was transparent and unable to touch her. He watched helplessly as Sophia used all her strength to push and pull the body into the hole. And then he watched as she buried it. He turned away, and instantly, the scene changed.

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Amanda made it through the house without incident. At the door to Mr. Turner’s room, she left her basket on the floor. And she crept inside. To her chagrin, Mr. Turner was sitting at the desk to her right between the door and the balcony. 

She immediately pretended not to see him and started towards the bathroom. But he called her name. “Amanda!” She froze and stood still. 

She heard noises like he was standing up in his voice came closer as he spoke. “I’ve been waiting for you. How are your fingers?” He was standing next to her now, and she did not want to look up at him. So she held up her hand instead. 

Mr. Turner touched her hands and took off the few Band-Aids that had not fallen off in the shower. “They look good. Do they feel better?” He asked.

“Yes,” Amanda said to the floor. 

Mr. Turner still had her hand, her right hand. And he had it in both of his hands. “Will you join me tomorrow for the lunch meal? I know you chose tomorrow as your day off.” 

Amanda was still looking at the floor. But she told his feet, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Listen, I don’t owe my wife anything. At this point, it is a loveless marriage. And if she fires you, I will hire you as my secretary. This dwelling is still mine, and it is still my money used in this household. Sure, she has some money of her own. But this house is in my name. She would have to kill me to take it from me. I would never sign it over to her. I have been contemplating a divorce and have consulted a lawyer. I need to have the papers drawn up and signed.” Mr. Turner was inching in front of Amanda. And now his feet in sandals were in her line of sight.

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