Chapter Five: The Daybreak

A Chapter by Not here

When they woke up that next morning, full of disbelief and yet certain of what they saw, she -whoever “she” was- had gone. Where? Well, that’s a question that cannot quite be answered, not then and not now.

“I can’t believe that was real; it felt like a dream,” Christian said, propping himself up on his elbows. Laying on the floor, at their age, did nothing except give you a sore back for a few minutes until you stood up.

“More like a nightmare,” Michael added.

“I go through it every night; you get used to it.” Brandon yawned and fell back onto his sleeping bag.

Crystal, of course, got the bed, despite protests that she did not need it and would be just fine sleeping on the carpeted floor. That was earlier in the evening, though, and after they saw the lady outside, sleeping lower, on the floor, felt safer. If you were on the floor, there was no chance of being seen by anything outside the window, or by anyone. In some ways, sleeping on the bed became an act of bravery, rolling over and seeing the glass rectangle, behind which the nighttime terror waited and leered.

Needless to say, she slept with her back towards that side of the room.

Besides the window, she decided to face the other side because a certain somebody slept over there; Michael, that is. She was not sure why, but noticing him, how peaceful he was while he slept, did a great deal to comfort her. Assuring herself there was nothing behind the momentary feelings, she had turned around towards the window, unconsciously, but quickly rolled back over.

“You alright up there?” Brandon had asked groggily.

“Yeah, yeah; I’m good,” she answered, a little sheepish. Looking at Michael, she thought, Yeah, yeah. Now I’m alright.

This morning, she was woken up from her dreamless slumber by the voice of that same boy. Michael was saying something, a little loudly for the morning, and she was about to comment on it, but realized who the voice belonged and decided otherwise. Even if it was too loud for her at this time of the morning, it was Michael, and she liked his voice.

What? she thought abruptly. No, no, no; I’m just too lazy to answer. I don’t like his voice; I’m not in love with him.

“You awake?” he asked her, interrupting the argument in her mind.

Sitting up and pulling the blankets up to her chin -Why’s it so cold?- she answered, “Yeah.”

“We were just talking about...what’d you call her, Brandon?” Michael looked at the foot of the bed, towards him.

“She. I called her She.”

“She? That’s a weird name,” Christian commented from the left side of the bed.

“Well, I don’t know her real name, obviously,” Brandon said with a hint of annoyance.

“Not sure I want to,” remarked Michael.

“When’s breakfast?” Crystal voiced the question her stomach had been growling since she woke up. “I haven’t eaten since after school yesterday.”

“Changing the subject, much?” Brandon questioned with a sly grin.

“I don’t mind,” Christian mumbled to himself.

“Seriously, though,” Crystal demanded, “I’m hungry.”

Brandon stood up and stretched his aching back, feeling better about the situation. “I wouldn’t say no to a waffle, either. Lemme go ask Mom.” With that, he trudged out of the room, nearly falling when Michael tried to trip him. The others laughed when he made some remark about that “not being funny” as he made his way slowly out of the door.

“I can’t get that face out of my head...and that finger…”

“Don’t worry about it, man. She’s gone.”

“Yeah, Chris. Long gone.”

Crystal was the only one who called his brother that. Everyone else called him Christian, except for maybe Brandon. He occasionally came up with some wackadoo nickname, and Christian was his favorite person to use them on.

They heard Brandon holler up the stairs, “Ya’ll can come down; we got some pancakes, some bacon, some-” but they were already dashing out of the room and down the yellow-painted hallway. “Quite an ugly color, but cheap,” Mrs. Gray had said when they moved into the house.

When all four of them were sat down and nibbling away on the bacon or scarfing down the eggs, Mr. Gray came walking into the room, whistling a joyful hymn probably sung at church last Sunday, though Brandon never payed attention to or remembered the songs. He just sang the words, going through the motions, sometimes literally, and then sat down, wishing he could sleep.

Seeing all of the teenagers sitting around his table, Mr. Gray stopped whistling and a sour, forced smile began to smear on his face, like concrete that has started to dry but the workers still attempt to spread it around. Grabbing a few of the mainly-untouched pancakes, he pulled out a plate, layered on the syrup, and walked out of the kitchen.

“I don’t think your dad likes us,” Christian chuckled to the others in a whispered voice, so he would not be heard by the grumpy old man.

“It’s fine,” Brandon assured him with an amused smile. “He’s always like that in the mornings, but by lunch he cheers up a bit.”

“Is he going to work today?” Michael asked. “It’s a weekday.”

“Yeah, he’ll go into town later. Working third shift this week.”

Michael nodded and returned to his food. Why bother yourself with other’s lives when you could enjoy some good eggs?

“So...about last night…”

They all looked at Brandon apprehensively, worried he might say something and break the silence of the last ten or fifteen minutes. They were a good few handfuls of minutes, where there was no talk about the lady, and one could almost pretend that everything was normal and right with the world. Now, Brandon was testing that barrier, and opening the door to something nobody wanted to mention, or talk about, or even think about.

“What did you all think?”

There it was; the question. What did they think? Well, they thought for one, that whatever had happened was insane, crazy, bonkers, bananas. It should not have happened, it could not have happened! And yet it did, didn’t it? They had seen her, she had seen them. The better question was not what did you all think, but who do you all think, as in, “Who do you all think she is?” That, however was the next question that rolled off Brandon’s lips.

“I don’t know,” Michael answered. “What do I think? Well, I think the whole thing is just not right, and that’s because I don’t know who she is. Why is she watching us? Why is she watching us? Of all people? I mean…”

“Yeah,” Christian spoke up, surprising them. He was the last person you would expect to answer, or say anything except for “yeah.” Instead, he added, “I agree with Michael; whatever she wants, we could answer a lot of questions by knowing who she is.”

“What about you, Crystal?” Brandon asked, realizing her fear. She hoped he would not call on her; all this business of talking over breakfast about such important matters made her feel grown up; too grown up. Adults were supposed to worry from the time they woke up to the time they went to sleep, and sometimes even in their dreams, but kids were not. Of course, none of them were kids in their own heads; they were teenagers, which is a big difference.

“I feel like this is serious, too serious for me.”

Christian stared, expecting her to say more, while Michael nodded as if he knew what she meant. Brandon, however, needed more clarification.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…it’s like this is something adults should deal with. I guess not exactly this, but things like this. Stressing about something over breakfast? Isn’t that what grown ups do? We’re

teens! We’re supposed to laugh, joke, have fun, throw eggs at Brandon; things like that!” Brandon did not laugh, despite her attempt at humor. “I agree with you,” he said, “but sometimes teenagers have to make adult decisions. We’re all growing up, believe it or not, and this is a grown up situation.”

“Some wacko stalker is not a grown up situation! It’s for the police to handle,” Crystal exclaimed, leaning in close to diminish the chances of being overheard.

Immediately, she found herself looking across the table straight into Michael’s curious, compassionate eyes. There was emotion in them, alright, but she could not tell what. Fear? No, certainly not that; he looked too confident, too certain in what he wanted to say. Some might call what he looked like “being in love” or “caring,” but she refused to believe that. There was no way he would like her.

“We all are worried,” he spoke up at last, “but this is serious business. I don’t want to grow up anymore or any less than the rest of you; I want to enjoy being a teenager, and not have to deal with things like this. But it seems we don’t have a choice. If this thing is just watching us, then I guess that’s alright, we need to learn to ignore it; Brandon has already learned to do that. But if it does something else, if it comes at us, I want to be ready. I want us to be ready.”

“What are you saying?” Christian wondered aloud in amazement.

“I’m saying we get ready. If anything comes crashing down on us, I want to have protection. I want to have you all with me. I agree with Crystal, this feels like a grown up decision, a grown up situation. But now, in this situation, that’s what we are. You all know that if we tell our parents, they won’t believe us, or won’t care, or won’t have time. The police, well, I’ve read enough stories to know they want proof, something we can’t give them. So it’s up to us.”

Crystal looked in admiration at the teenage boy, the youngest teenager in their group, who was taking the lead and making plans. Christian felt a similar sense of amazement, admiration, and the overwhelming presence of tension. Brandon just nodded, thinking it all through, and agreeing with every word.

When nobody said anything, Michael added, “I really hope I’m wrong, but I’ve got a feeling something’s about to happen. Something...big. Something bad.”

Christian, inspired by him, broke the silence afterwards and said, “And I’ve got a feeling we can stop her.”

“She,” Brandon corrected, not unkindly.

“She,” they nodded.

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Author's Note

Thank you all for reading and reviewing :) I hope you are enjoying this. If not, or if you think there are things I should do better, please let me know specifically below.

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Reviews

Willard Wells

This chapter came together very well and the story now appears to be a story for teens. This chapter took it to me out of the adult type story. JMHO. This does not take away from a great write and story though.