Chapter 6: Deep Water

My heart pounded like war drums in my ears as I passed our mailbox. I circumambulated the house, checking the windows. The man was clearly stilled trapped down in the basement. I cautiously opened the front door and let it swing open, my eyes glued to the unchanged basement door. Slowly, I glided across the floor and moved the table away from the door. It was hard to control my breathing and maintain focus as I turned the lock on the basement door, but I managed to keep my composure. I sprang backward a few feet and took cover on the stair case. I stared at the door completely motionless, pistol in hand.

“No, mom, I just checked and there’s no one here but me. It must’ve just been Tyson’s imagination. His panicking was making me scared too but I overreacted, sorry to bother you at work. No, I’ll be fine alone until you get home in a few hours. Okay, see you later. Love you too. Bye.” I called out, feigning a phone call. I wanted to make the man think I had opened the door because I thought I overreacted, that I thought it was just my imagination and, most importantly, that I had let my guard down. I remained still with my eyes fixed on the door for at least twenty minutes and heard absolutely nothing, not a sound. I considered opening the door and confronting him, but he was much larger than me and wanted the element of surprise. I had a gun, but I had no idea if the man was armed or not. I made the decision to instead go and wait for him on the third floor. This was the perfect time to investigate. I kept a watchful eye as I quietly walked backwards up the staircase; I was sure to keep my hand away from the splinter-ridden banister. I stopped off in my bedroom to grab my baseball bat and placed the pistol into my front jacket pocket. I closed my bedroom door behind me as I exited and stopped at the foot of the poorly lit staircase. Not only did I have no idea what was waiting for me up there, I knew I’d be trapped once he finally emerged to pursue me. I reassured myself and started up the staircase, taking it step-by-step, expecting trouble at any second. But none came; I made it to the top of the stairs and began to look around. There was a bedroom immediately to the left, a bathroom straight ahead, and a study off to the right. The bedroom proved to be empty, save for some serious signs of neglect, as was the bathroom. The study was a different story. There was a window that lied wide-open overlooking the eerily foggy backyard, an old-style desk with a reading lamp, a china cabinet with no china, and a small closet tucked behind some boards. I closed the window and just as I was about to forfeit my investigation, I spotted something peculiar. Lying directly in the middle of the tacky green carpet was an old polaroid photograph, torn in half. It was a typical posed family photo, I assumed it belonged to the family that had lived here before; I was wrong. I had expected to come up to the third floor and find the answers to this conundrum, but now I was just puzzled with more questions. Has this man been using this window to sneak in and out at his convenience? Was he coming in just to wreak havoc upon my life or was he living up here? And now, why was this photo lying in the middle of the floor, and why was it a picture of Ashley and who I could only assume was her mother? Before I had time to analyze the situation further, it happened.

WHAM! The basement door flew open and struck the wall; I was glad that I hadn’t made the mistake of waiting behind the door again. Every one of his slow angry stomps that echoed through the second floor as the man ascended our staircase sent a shiver down my spine. As my blood raced through my veins faster and faster, I realized how much trouble I was having breathing. Having closed the window, it was becoming rapidly apparent that there was little to no air circulation in this renovated attic. The air was becoming almost too thick with dust and mold that I had kicked up for me to breathe. I noticed in my quickly on-setting panic that I had left footsteps in the thick layer of dust which I desperately wiped away. After a few more seconds of breathing in the air, I began having trouble keeping my eyes open. I had only gotten a few hours of sleep all week and with my allergies combined with the horrible air quality, I was beginning to pass out. What had I been thinking? I knew I couldn’t face this behemoth of a man alone, especially not in these conditions. I knew I was in trouble, I've never felt so afraid, and as I heard the man reach the first step of the staircase leading up here, I thought my life was about to end. In one last desperate attempt to hold on, I managed to crawl across the floor into the small closet on the right-hand wall. I closed the accordion-style door behind me, managing to lean the boards back against the door, and prayed that I would remain undiscovered. I heard the man’s heavy footsteps reach the top of the staircase and begin searching for me. He tore the window back open and I could hear the window sill creak as he leaned out to look around. I was falling in and out of consciousness, but I could tell he was tearing open drawers on the desk, looking for something that obviously wasn’t me. Though I’d never seen him, the man normally seemed to be calm, but he was in a manic frenzy this time. The man yelled in frustration and I couldn’t hold on any longer; I passed out.

 

BZZZZZZ!!! The vibration of my cell phone in my pocket woke me up. I pulled it out and it was a call from Ashley, who I realized I had forgotten to text. It was 11:53; somehow I had remained unconscious for over four hours. I hit answer and heard Ashley’s voice on the other end. Bad idea; in my dazed state, I had forgotten my surroundings. As small of a sound as it was, it was apparently loud enough. Loud footsteps stormed towards the closet and threw the boards out of the way. The man ripped the door completely off of its hinges. In the nearly pitch black room, I randomly swung my bat forward as hard as I could muster. I made contact and heard a groan as he stumbled backwards. I jumped to my feet, feeling triumphant, and swung again as I stepped out into the room. My triumph was cut short as the man caught the bat in one hand and delivered a punch directly to my nose with the other. The force was unbelievable. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, struggling to pull my pistol out of my jacket pocket. I freed the weapon and fired into the darkness. I missed, but the flash illuminated the monstrous man towering over me. I began to fire again, but he kicked the gun out of my hand and I heard it clang down the staircase. As I tried to scramble to my feet, he picked me up by my shirt collar and I felt my feet leave the ground.

“Wh-what do you want?” I desperately demanded. The man yelled something as he launched me across the room, but it’s hard to distinguish words when you’re airborne. My back slammed hard into the nearby desk and I fell to the floor. Amidst the struggle, I heard the grandfather clock downstairs chime and I knew it was midnight. I knew it was only a matter of time before mom and Tyson came home and I had to protect them. It wasn’t just my life at stake, but theirs as well. I summoned the strength to rise to my feet with the aid of the desk. I accidentally knocked the desk light to the floor, switching it on and bringing a small amount of directional light to the dark room. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the silhouette of the man standing on the opposite side of the room with my bat in his hands. I picked up a letter opener off of the desk and pointed it at him. If I was going down, which I was pretty sure I was, it was going to be with a fight. The man took a step forward and I began to lunge but suddenly he froze in place. As I heard the sounds of my family coming in through the front door, I knew I had to stop him. It was strange; he stood motionless with his head tilted like a hunter listening to his prey in the bushes. I committed to my attack and just as I was about to thrust the letter opener into his chest, he vanished before my eyes. The bat fell to the floor and I was alone.

“Mom!” I yelled as I realized where he may have gone. I grabbed the bat and flew down the stairs, picking up the pistol on my descent. My mind raced with explanations of what had just happened, but I had to make sure my family was safe. I reached the top of the first to second floor stairs and saw mom, Tyson, and Bear joyfully heading into the kitchen for a drink. What I hadn’t expected was the addition of Sheriff Raditz going along with them. I scanned my surroundings, making sure the man wasn’t sneaking up on me, and headed down the stairs to make sure they were safe. As I entered the kitchen, Bear lit up with excitement and ran to greet me. “Um…hey, guys. Sheriff Raditz.” I said, trying to keep my cool over what had just happened.

“Your nose is bleeding, ‘city-boy’” Sheriff Raditz barked as he took a drink of the glass of tea my mother had just poured for him.

“Isaac, why is your nose all bloody?” Mom added in, now slightly alarmed.

I held up our stainless steel toaster and witnessed the damage done to my face. I couldn’t tell them that I just went two-rounds with a giant, so I lied,

“Oh, yeah I walked into a support beam when I went to check the fuse box. It only bled a little but I guess it must not have been done.”

“Is that so?” Sheriff Raditz questioned with skepticism rich in his low grizzly voice.

“Yeah, it is.” I replied, already annoyed by his attitude. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Isaac! Don’t be rude. I asked Sheriff Raditz to come back with us to make Tyson feel safe.” My mother chided.

“Well, I can take care of this family fine on my own. Besides, I told you it was nothing that happened earlier.” I snapped back as my temper began to flare.

“Yes it was!” Tyson cried out.

“Let it go, Tyson!” I scolded. I didn’t look up, but I could feel the tension in the room shift. I could feel how shocked and uncomfortable they had become. I rarely ever raised my voice the way my father did, but just then I sounded just like him. And what was I yelling at Tyson for? Telling the truth. My stomach sank. “…sorry, Tyson.” I offered. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Are you okay, son? What’s going on here?” Sheriff Raditz asked.

“We just have a little ‘pest problem.’ But it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.” I responded, back turned to them as I poured myself a glass of milk.

“Well, if you need any help you come tell m-“

“I got it.” I interrupted. I closed the refrigerator and exited the kitchen, back up the stairs. I poked my head into each of the rooms to ensure our ‘pest’ wasn’t waiting to strike. I reached the final room on the floor, mine. I opened the door slowly and turned the lights on. Here I was, feeling terrified to walk into my own room, a victim in my own home. I swallowed my nerves and entered my room.

That night I couldn’t sleep. For once I wasn’t under attack and yet it was no use. Tyson went to bed with Bear shortly after I retired for the night, and I heard Sheriff Raditz’ diesel engine drive away into the night a few minutes after that. I couldn’t stop going over what had happened in my head. Aside from the constant reminder of the throbbing in my face, I couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened to me if my family hadn’t returned home when they did. There was so much to think about such as the torn family photo that resided in the back pocket of my pants and the way that the man was there one second, and gone the next. I had to remain rational if I was going to defeat the man upstairs; he couldn’t have simply vanished. The window was wide open and he was standing right beside it; he easily could’ve dropped the bat and fled through the window when I looked away to the sound of my family. For that matter, why did the sheriff feel the need to come along and interrogate me like a criminal? I had enough on my plate without him trying to get with my mom. I already had one man to protect my family from. Thankfully the man from upstairs only seemed interested in attacking me, but that raised more questions as well. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but what I did know was that whether I was going to survive the ordeal or not, I would find out soon.