5

This is the last chapter I will be posting on here. Read the full story at: https://www.wattpad.com/story/12893909-adaneene-completed

"Quorraline. Quorraline, can you hear me?"

      "Come on Cor, wake up."

      "She might have a concussion."

      "We don't have a hospital to bring her to, though."

      "She doesn't need one, does she?"

      "I don't know."

      I squinted, listening to all the noise around me made my head hurt. Or was something else making my head hurt?

      "She's waking up! Cor!"

      "Honey? Can you open your eyes for me?"

      "Quorra?"

      I open my eyes to my family crowded around me.

      "What happened?" I ask, I try to sit up, but dizziness quickly returns me to laying down.

      "You don't remember?" My mother looked at me. I open my mouth to say something, but then it all comes back: someone calling my name, the silhouette at the edge of the woods, the creature, hurting my ankle, being inches away from death. It didn't kill me,

      "I should be dead," I realize. "It should have killed me."

      "What should have killed you, what do you mean?" Mac asks.

      "What happened, Quorra, why did you go outside?" Dad says.

      The memories were flooding through my mind. The teeth and the fangs that didn't even scratch me. Why not?

      I remember exactly what the creature said: "Quorraline, I no kill you." Clearly, this creature wasn't from around here. But, what I wanted to know was why it didn't kill me. Everyone who goes into the woods at night dies. Why make an exception for me? I look down towards my foot. It's wrapped in an ace bandage. It reminds me of how vulnerable I was, an easy kill. I would have been so easy to kill. But, that creature, that murdering creature, didn't kill me. And, I didn't know how to feel about that.

      "Quorra, talk to me," my father presses.

      "Michael, she's in shock, let her sort things out first," my mother admonishes.

      "It was calling me...from the house," I begin slowly bringing myself to a sitting position and turn myself so I'm facing my family. My mother and father quickly sit down next to me, while my brother stays standing.

      "What was? What is the it?” My father says, impatiently.

      I look at the faces of my mother, my dad, and brother, then I tell them who it was and watch as their faces almost reflect as much terror as my own. 

      "The creature was calling you, from the house," my mother 's voice is breathy and shaky. I nod.

      "No one else could hear it," I explain. "And then, something drew me to the window, and there was a silhouette calling me from the edge of the woods."

      "You went into the woods?" My father's voice was unusually subdued.

      "No. Not voluntarily, I had no control of myself, the same thing that drew me to the window drew me into the woods. And, the next thing I know I was in the middle of the woods, alone." I pause to look at the terrified faces of my family. They must think I'm suicidal. "I saw it," I say. "It jumped out of the woods, and I tripped. It was inches away from my face."

      "What did it look like?" Mac asks.

      "Like the scariest vampire you could ever imagine. Its hand was on my face, but it told me 'I no kill you,' and then it told me to leave the woods."

      "You were face to face with the creature, and you're alive," my father said.

      "I should be dead," I say.

      "But, you're not, aren't you happy about that?" Mac asks.

      "I don't know if I should be," I reply. Tons of people are dead because of this thing. There's nothing I did that makes me any better than anyone else, I should not be alive. I don't deserve to be alive.

      "Quorraline, you should be very happy. We thought we would never see you again," My mother hugs me under the blanket. I hadn't even realized they'd put a blanket on me until now.

      "Never scare us like that again," my father orders. "Please."

      "I won't, I promise," I say. I would never do something like that again. I don't know what on earth compelled me to risk my life like that.

What did all of this mean, though? The creature called me for a reason. It spared me for a reason. What was the reason? Why me? Out of all those remaining in town, why me?

      Those cryptic words "I no kill you" will haunt my dreams. This whole encounter will haunt my dreams; it's already taken over my thoughts.

All I want to know is why.

 

      I wake up in the safe room covered in a blanket and squished between my father and Mac. My father's arm is very tightly wrapped around me. Mac was positioned in a way so that if I moved he would feel it. I look at my ankle and the ace bandage around it, and I remember exactly why my family is being so protective. Though, I don't even remember coming down here. Pretty much the only thing I remember from yesterday is the woods and the creature. I squirm a bit, to get more comfortable, but my dad's arm tightens.

      "Quorra?!" My father jumps awake and looks at me, tightening his grip even more.

      "I'm here, Dad," I assure him. He lets out a long breath.

      "How are you feeling?" He asks me. That was exactly the question I could not answer. How do you sum up relieved, terrified, traumatized, happy, scared, anxious, befuddled, and in pain, in one word?

      "I'm fine," I say. I can tell my father doesn't believe me; he is a cop, after all. Cops are conditioned to tell when someone is lying. But, he just rubs my arm without saying anything.

Before Mac even is fully awake, he finds my leg with his hand. He sits up with relief on his face.

      "Oh, you're okay, I had a dream that..." Mac's eyes drift to my ankle. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

      "No, it wasn't," my father replies. I don't say anything.

      "Are you okay?" Mac asks, looking at me, scrutinizing.

      "I'm fine," I tell Mac the exact same thing I told my dad. He doesn't believe me either.

      "How do you really feel?" Mac plies.

      "The truth? I'm confused. I guess. And, a bit scared," I admit letting out my breath.

      My father simply squeezes my shoulders, and Mac pats my leg. Though, I'd expected some sort of consoling words. But, what can they really say besides, everything is going to be ok, which everyone knows is the biggest lie anyone can tell you.

      My mother wakes up with a yawn, and looks over at us as if she's doing a head count.

      "Morning," she says. Her gaze lingers on me for a couple seconds, but besides that she doesn't do anything differently.

      The door to the tunnel slides open, causing everyone in my family to jump. It was just the Delmontes, however.

      "Good morning, we were making pancakes and we thought of you guys, want some?" Mrs. Delmonte greets. I would be embarrassed to be seen in my PJ's, if the Delmontes weren't wearing theirs also.

      "That would be great, actually." My father says, surprisingly. "Company is the best way to get one's mind off things."

      That was a good point, though I doubt it would work.

      "We're just waking up, but I think I have some bacon and eggs in the fridge I can fry up," My mother suggests.

      "Bacon, eggs and pancakes is a great idea," Jamalin says. "It's pretty much my favorite breakfast of all time."

      "Good," My mother gives a half smile and heads up the stairs.

      "Why don't you kids wait in the living room while we're in the kitchen, okay?" My father says, but I don't miss his glance at me. He wanted me to be in sight range.

      "Yes, Dad," I say. I wanted to be able to see my parents, probably as much as they wanted to be able to see me.

      I stand up slowly, forgetting about my ankle for a second, that is, until I put weight on it. A sharp pain stabs through it and I nearly fall back down, but Jamalin and Mac each grab one of my arms.

      "Ahh," I hiss taking a sharp breath.

      "Cor, are you alright?" Mac asks. At the same time, Jamalin asks:

      "What happened to your ankle?"

      "I'm okay, really," I assure everyone. "I... fell down the stairs and twisted my ankle."

      "Are you sure you'll be able to get up the stairs?" Cass asks.

      "I'm fine," I say, for the third time this morning. But, I can clearly see no one believes me, even the Delmontes, who don't know what really happened.

      "Maybe it's best you guys stay down here, you don't want Quorraline to fall down the stairs, again," Mrs. Delmonte suggests.

      "And it's probably safer, anyway," Mr. Delmonte adds.

      "Good idea," my father says, but he doesn't look at all as if he thinks so. Before he heads up the stairs, he sends Mac a look that clearly says, "Watch her."

      "Why don't you sit down," Mac says to me as the door to the safe room clanks shut. I sit. "I'll lock the door." Mac goes up to the safe room door and clicks all the locks in place while Cass shuts the door to the tunnel.

      "So, you really fell down the stairs?" Jamalin asks.

      "Yeah, she did," Mac says. "It was a pretty bad fall, too. She knocked herself out, and may or may not have a concussion, we're not sure."

      "That doesn't sound fine to me," Cass plops down in front of me. "Maybe you should have our mom check your over, to see how bad it is. Usually when someone twists an ankle they can put weight on it."

      "No, I'm okay, really, I just forgot about it for a sec," I insist. Mac sits down opposite of Jamalin, so we kind of make a square.

      "Well, maybe it is a good idea to have Mrs. Delmonte check you over," Mac looks at me carefully.

      "No, seriously I'm okay." I insist.

      "If you say so," Jamalin says.

      "You know, last night, we brought our TV into our safe room, we stayed up late watching movies," Cass says. "It was the first family fun we've had in a really long time, it was great and we completely forgot about everything while the movies were on."

      "Wow, must've been fun." I say. My voice is lacking the enthusiasm I'd meant to put in to it.

      "It was; it feels like things are finally turning up. Like we're actually getting used to the way things are," Jamalin replies.

      "That's really great you guys," Mac says with a smile only in his mouth.

      Getting used to things was not something I had on my agenda. Not with some creepy monster that can call my name inside of my head telling me that it won't kill me. Was it a monster really, though? Thinking back, it kind of had the appearance of a girl. But, just not a human girl. Vampires aren't real, are they? They could be. But, don't vampires turn other people into vampires? Or suck their blood? I'm fairly certain that this creature isn't a vampire, but what is it then?

      "Quorraline?" Cass is waving her hand in front of my face.

      "Hm?" I reply, pulled out of my thoughts.

      "I asked you how you managed to fall down the stairs," Cass says.

      "Oh, I slipped on the carpet," I say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Cass and Jamalin exchanged a look.

      "You really should have our mom check you out Cor, it seems like you have a concussion," Cass says. I rub my temple and narrow my eyes in Cass and Jamalin's direction.

      "I told you that I'm fine, would you drop it already," I reply. "Please."

      "Guys, quit hounding her, she's had a rough night," Mac says. Of course, now he's on my side.

The safe room door opens and the parents come down.

      "Hey guys, how's it going," Mrs. Delmonte says as she comes down the stairs holding a tray.

      "Great," Mac says drily. My father eyes Mac and me, but doesn't say anything.

      Jamalin leans over and whispers something in his mom's ear. From the look his mom gives me I know exactly what he told her. She puts the tray down.

      "Quorraline, dear, are you feeling alright?" She asks. I knew she was going to ask that.

      "For the bazillionth time, I'm perfectly fine!" I huff.

      "Quorraline!" My mother scolds.

      "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. But, I'm really okay, and I'd appreciate it if people stopped asking if I am." I say.

      "It's quite alright, dear. But, I think that I should take a look at your ankle, just to see." Mrs. Delmonte said. She was a nurse, so it was reasonable that she wanted to check. That didn't mean I had to be happy about it, however.

      She gently unwraps my ankle.

      "Oh, this isn't so bad. It's not even swollen, just keep off it for a day or two and you should be fine." She diagnoses, then she looks up at my face.

      "You don't look like you have a concussion to me," Mrs. Delmonte says, she looks into my eyes. "No dilation. Can you follow my finger with your eyes?" I do. "Yep you're concussion free."

      "Well, I didn't hit my head when I fell, so I wouldn't know how I would get one," I reply. My mother sends me a Look. "But, thank you."

      "No problem, I'm just making sure, your parents said you were unconscious for quite a while," Mrs. Delmonte replied.

      "I think that was because I was scared." Try terrified out of my mind and confused beyond comprehension.

      "Yeah, seems like it," she replies. "Why don't we eat breakfast?"

      "Sounds good," My father says. I can tell he's relaxed just a little hearing that I was physically okay. But, mentally, I don't think I'd ever be okay again. Questions are racing through my mind that I highly doubt will ever be answered. Even if they could be, I don't think I could handle hearing the answers.

      After breakfast, the adults (reluctantly on the part of my mother and father) go upstairs to put the dishes away, leaving us teenagers alone.

      “So, I was thinking, we should have a sleepover,” Cass says after a few seconds of silence.

      “A sleepover?” Mac repeats.

      “Yeah,” Cass says. “Our parents can sleep in one safe room and we can sleep in the other.”

I did not feel comfortable with that, not at all.

      “That’s not a good idea,” Jamalin says. I nod, agreeing with Jamalin.

      “I think we should stick to sleeping in our own houses for a while,” Mac says. “Stuff is crazy enough as is.”

      “Yeah, I know, but a sleepover would be fun, and it’d get our minds off everything,” Macasey insists.

      “Not really, I think we’d be more focused on everything if we couldn’t see our parents for the whole night,” I say. “I definitely wouldn’t sleep a wink.”

      “I agree with Quorra,” Jamalin says. “Wasn’t it only the day before yesterday that we were freaking out because we hadn’t seen our parents in almost 10 minutes?”

      Macasey sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes.

      “Come on guys. We’re teenagers, we’re not supposed to rely on our parents like we’re babies,” Macasey says. “What happened to your teenager-ness?”

      “It died,” Mac answers simply. “With all the people that the creature killed.”

      Macasey swallows uncomfortably; obviously Mac had put a dim on her festive spirit.

      “Face it Cass, we can’t just pretend that we’re normal teenagers and do normal teenager stuff as if there’s not a creature in the woods outside trying to kill us,” Jamalin says.

      It’s wasn’t trying to kill me. If it had been, I would be dead. But, I still don’t understand why it didn’t kill me. “I no kill you” isn’t very explanatory. Did it mean that it would spare me that night? Or spare me in general? It had called me out there. So, why would it call me out there just to say it wasn’t going to kill me that night?  Nothing makes any sense. A sleep over would just give me hours to ask more questions that I couldn’t get the answers to. I’d drive myself insane. Maybe I already am.

      “Quorra?” I reenter to the real world and realize Jamalin was calling me and poking my arm.

      “Stop,” I tell him swatting his hand away. “What?”

      “Oh nothing, you zoned out for a few seconds,” Jamalin says.

      I rub my arm tenderly. I look at Mac and our eyes meet. He raises his eyebrows inquisitively. He’s asking if I’m was okay. I nod firmly and look away.

      “Maybe you guys are right,” Macasey says.

      “Maybe?” Jamalin replies.

      “I think everyone is still trying to come to terms with the news,” Mac says more tactfully. He doesn’t mean the news they’re thinking about though. He’s thinking about what happened last night. I don’t know about him, but I, for one, will never come to terms with that news.

      Before, I knew the creature was real, there were too many deaths to doubt its existence. But now, I’ve actually seen it, face to face. It spoke to me, actual words. It knows my name. Now, the creature has a form, a voice and a face. It used to be that the appearance of the creature was only in our imagination. For everybody else but me, it still is. I liked that better, because when it was only in my imagination, I could at least pretend it wasn’t real. I can’t do that anymore. Actually seeing it has made everything 100 times more frightening.