Haunting the Night

by Mara Purnhagen

  Zelden mattered. He knew where Marcus was buried, and that information was vital to banishing the shadow creature. I was sure of it. My relentless research had led me to one conclusion: the creature haunting my nights needed me to do something, to complete a task. And that task was to find Marcus, acknowledge his death and beg his forgiveness. If I could do that, I would be free. Free of moments like the one I’d had the evening before.

  I was in my bedroom. Shane was downstairs, assuming his role as my guardian since Dad was spending another night at the hospital. After brushing my teeth and slipping into my favorite pajama pants and one of Noah’s old T-shirts, I got into bed. But I couldn’t sleep. Something felt unfinished to me, and despite trying to deny it, I knew exactly what it was. My day would not be done until I saw it, until I knew how much it had grown.

  It was a horrible routine. I waited as long as I could before creeping downstairs in the dark and pulling back the living room curtain. Each time, my heart galloped and I held my breath. Each time I hoped it would not be there, crouched across the street. And each time, I knew it would be there.

  But this time, I stayed in bed longer than normal. I stared at the dark ceiling. I concentrated on my breathing, tried to slow it down and relax. It was a technique I’d heard on a talk show, and I was surprised by how well it worked. Every once in a while, I would stop and take a deep breath. It didn’t fix everything, but it gave me a moment of calm. And one moment of calm could propel me through the rest of the day.

  Hours passed. I struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing worked. I was fighting the simple truth that I needed to leave my warm bed and walk downstairs to look outside the living room window.

  I could hear Shane snoring from his usual position in the living room. Dad had offered him the guest room, but Shane had declined, saying that it was really Annalise’s room and he couldn’t take it over. So he kept a sleeping bag tucked in our hall closet and brought it out when he spent the night—which was becoming more and more frequent. I felt badly that he was sleeping on the floor, but Shane insisted that he liked it. His contented (and loud) snoring seemed to confirm it.

  Giving up my attempts to sleep, I flung the covers to the side. Barefoot, I tiptoed through the hallway and down the stairs. Shane’s snoring was steady, which told me that he was sound asleep. A quick peek to my right confirmed that he was curled up on the floor. The soft beam coming from the streetlight showed me that the sleeping bag was tucked beneath his chin and his mouth was wide-open. It made me feel better knowing that Shane was there. It meant that a protective force was just a few feet away from me, and a single scream would rouse him from his sleep.

  I stepped toward the living room window. The blinds were open, but the sheer white curtains had been pulled shut, allowing shards of dim light to illuminate the room. The sofa sat in front of the window, so I had to kneel on it and lean forward toward the window. I could almost see through the flimsy curtains, but not enough to get a clear view across the street, where I knew the shadow would be waiting.

  I wanted to be able to speak to it without having to actually stand in front of it. I wanted to tell it that I was working toward forgiveness, that I was trying to discover where Marcus was buried. But there was no way I was going to venture outside. The situation was only slightly bearable with a street and a wall of house between us. Maybe it could read my thoughts. Maybe it would understand that I was trying to complete the task it needed me to do.

  Stepping closer so that I was in arm’s length of the window, I reached out and touched the curtain. Then, before I could change my mind or back away, I pushed it back and looked out into the night.

  At first, all I could see was darkness. The streetlight had turned off, which was strange. Then I realized what I was looking at.

  And what was looking back at me.

  My eyes were not gazing out into a black night. Instead, the creature had made its way to the front porch and was now hunched directly in front of the window. My breath froze inside my chest. Screaming was not possible. Moving away from my spot so close to the window was not possible. The shadow creature had me locked in a terrified paralysis. All I could do was stare at the hulking shape in front of me.

  It had no face. Or maybe it did—it certainly had developed more of a human form—but I could not identify any facial features. No eyes or nose or mouth. And something about this fact made the thing even worse.

  “What are you?” My voice was a hoarse whisper. That I had managed to force any words from my mouth surprised me. And maybe it surprised the thing, too, because it moved slightly to the side, as if getting more comfortable. I knew it had heard me, and I waited for an answer.

  But the answer didn’t come. The creature backed away from the window, drifting down the porch steps and back into the street. It stopped at the streetlight, then seemed to melt inside of it.

  I remained at the window, despite my pounding heart and shaking hands. I stayed because I wanted to be sure it was gone for the night. And a tiny part of my mind worried that as soon as I turned my back, it would come running back up the porch. Finally, I backed away, as well. I took small steps and I didn’t stop until I bumped into Shane.

  “Charlotte?” He sat up in his sleeping bag on the floor.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You okay?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m fine. I came downstairs for some water. Go back to sleep.”

  But he was up now and turning on the overhead light. “Let’s go in the kitchen.”

  I followed him, grateful that I did not have to return to my room and fight sleep that I knew wouldn’t come. I was too rattled, too scared.

  Shane poured me a glass of water and sat down across from me at the kitchen table. “Bad dream?” he asked.

  I sipped my water. “Something like that.”

  He didn’t ask me any more questions. Instead, he let me sit quietly for a few more minutes, then went upstairs. He came back down with pillows and blankets and began spreading them across the sofa. Then he moved his sleeping bag closer.

  “I’m right here if you need anything,” he said. I spent the night on the sofa with Shane a few feet away, and despite his persistent snoring, I actually got a little rest.

  The next day I followed my routine, which now included checking my phone as often as possible to see if Zelden had returned my call. I resolved to leave another message if I didn’t hear anything within twenty-four hours.

  My long weekend getaway was approaching. I would miss Noah, but I was also looking forward to spending time with my sister. In my mind, I was halfway there.

  In reality, I still had to endure two more days of school—and Avery’s relentless badgering. “There’s still time!” she pleaded. It was Monday, and I was shoving books into my locker. A bright orange poster advertising the Prom theme of “Caribbean Nights” hung nearby. I tried not to look at it.

  “Avery, I understand that this is a big deal to you,” I said, shutting my locker. “But I can’t go. I just can’t. Can you please respect that?”

  She immediately softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Charlotte.” She bit her lower lip. “But I wanted us to have a great send-off. I wanted to make a great memory, something good for you to remember the end of our senior year.”

  I smiled. “Thank you for that. But Prom isn’t the end of the year. We’ll still have plenty of time to make great memories.”

  We began walking to class. “I need this,” I said. “I need to get away for a few days. It’s important to me.”

  “Understood.” Avery reached over and gave me a sideways hug. “And you’re right. We have plenty of time to do something memorable before we leave for college.”

  College. It was a huge decision I had been putting off. Deadlines inched by, and still, the forms and acceptance letters sat on my desk, untouched. I had applied to five schools and been accepted to three. My top choice was out of state. But now that Mom
was hurt, was it really my top choice? Priorities had changed, and location mattered more than ever. I did not want to be studying in a dorm room hours away if something happened. I needed to be close by. School in Charleston was an option, which was one reason my visit to Annalise was so important to me. Was it a good fit? Could I belong there?

  I met up with Noah at lunch. He knew about my struggle to make a decision about college and that I had only a few weeks left.

  “How are you?” he asked as we sat down at our table. Around us, the cafeteria buzzed with voices and motion and the instantly recognizable scent of French fries.

  “Stressed.” I lifted the bun on my chicken sandwich and removed the pickles. “There doesn’t seem to be enough time to get everything done, and I’m so far behind. Everyone else knows exactly where they’re going to be in September. I’m clueless.”

  Noah nodded. “There’s still time. Not much, but enough to make a good decision.”

  Across from us, our friends were chatting about Prom. I tried to drown out the conversations about silk clutches and perfectly-dyed pumps so I could focus on Noah.

  “What are you planning on doing in Charleston?” he asked after taking a sip of milk.

  “Tour the campus and spend time with my sister, mainly. Maybe a little sunbathing.”

  Noah swallowed his milk. “Um, do you have a bikini for that?”

  “Yes.” His voice sounded funny to me.

  “What color is it?” His eyes were focused on his carton of milk.

  “It’s red. Why?”

  “Red,” he murmured. “You in a red bikini. Wow.”

  I swatted his arm. “Mind out of the gutter, please.”

  “It’s not in the gutter,” he said. “It’s on the beach, looking at you in a red bikini.”

  I squeezed his knee under the table. “You’ll have plenty of chances to see me in my bikini.”

  He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Promise?”

  Noah and I had been reserved in our new relationship. With everything that was going on, it was difficult for us to find time alone. I wanted to be close to him, but the rare moments we had together were often interrupted by an insistent cell phone or concerns about my mom. It wasn’t fair to him—to us—but he was patient and understanding with me. He knew that I needed to keep my cell phone on, even when we were locked in an embrace on the sofa.

  A week earlier we had watched a cheesy romantic comedy at my house. Dad was at the hospital and our regular chaperones—Shane and Trisha—were on a date themselves, so Noah and I had a rare few hours to ourselves. The movie provided an excuse to curl up on the sofa next to one another. Every time the two confused main characters kissed on screen, Noah would turn to me. “We can do better than them,” he said. It became a joke with us. A great joke.

  But in the middle of one of our kisses, my phone buzzed. I practically shoved Noah off me in a rush to answer it, convinced that it was an update on my mom. When it turned out to be Avery checking in, I was disappointed. So was Noah, even though he tried not to show it.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was worried.”

  “I understand.” He ran a hand through his hair and tried to smile. I wanted to put the interruption behind us and resume kissing, but the movie was over, and so was our opportunity.

  “Great.” I slumped back on the sofa. “Our one chance to be alone and I ruined it.”

  He wrapped his arm around me. “We’ll have other chances.” He kissed my neck lightly, and I wondered if he was trying to tell me that our next chance was right now.

  Then the front door opened and Shane and Trisha entered, holding hands and beaming. Strike two, I thought. I can’t win at this game.

  The lunch bell rang, pulling me out of my memory. Noah took my tray from me and threw away my trash while I waited for him. Then he walked me to class. “We’ll get to see each other before you leave on Wednesday, right?”

  We were at my locker. “Of course. What’d you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed my shoulders. “I’d like to plan something, though.”

  I closed my eyes and sank into his touch. “If it involves an hour-long shoulder rub, count me in.”

  He kissed the back of my neck. “Done.”

  A teacher passing by cleared his throat and Noah stepped back from me. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Watch the PDA,” the teacher growled before leaving.

  “How about this?” Noah asked. “We could go out to dinner on Tuesday. A nice dinner. I’ll wear a tie, you wear a dress and it’ll be like Prom without the dance.”

  “Sounds nice.” I kissed his cheek. “You pick the place, and I’ll be there.”

  It was a great plan.

  Which is exactly why it was doomed to fall apart.

  Chapter Five

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me,” I said to Avery. “Green really is my color.”

  She sighed in mock exasperation. “One day you will realize that I am never wrong.” She brushed invisible lint off the side of my dress as I examined myself in the full-length mirror hanging from my closet.

  It was Tuesday. I was one hour away from my date with Noah, and one night away from my escape to Charleston. It would be perfect: Noah and I would have hours of uninterrupted time together. Dad was home so we could drive to the hospital in the morning, where Annalise would meet us. We would visit Mom, have lunch and then Annalise would take me to Charleston for my long weekend away from the shadow creature, school and all the other stress that had been building walls around my life.

  Avery had helped me select the green strapless dress for the evening. It was a cotton summer dress, but she assured me she could make it look more formal.

  “But not too formal,” I told her. “I have no idea where Noah is taking me tonight.”

  “But I do.” Avery smiled. “He asked for my advice, and I made sure he picked the perfect place for you two.”

  I grabbed her hands. “Tell me.”

  “No chance.” She shook me off and held up a necklace. “Now come on, we need to finish your look.”

  I held up my hair while she fastened the necklace, which consisted of six strands of tiny, multicolored beads. Instantly, the ensemble transformed from summer casual to evening elegant.

  “You could wear this to prom,” Avery said as she handed me a pair of silver strappy sandals. I raised an eyebrow in response and she held up both hands. “I know, I know. You’re not going. You can’t blame me for trying.”

  “No, but I can blame you for being a pest.”

  She smiled. “A pest who knows how to make you look amazing.”

  As always, she was right. The simple green dress looked great against my black hair, and the jewelry elevated it from simple to stunning. I loved it—and I knew Noah would, too.

  “How much time do I have?” I adjusted the necklace so that the layers were arranged just right.

  “Twenty minutes.”

  I turned around to look at Avery. “That gives me enough time to convince you to tell me where I’m headed tonight.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Consider it payback for not letting me convince you to go to Prom.”

  Downstairs, the phone rang. For a second, I worried that it might be Noah, calling to cancel or postpone our date. But when I heard Dad running up the stairs, I knew it was something much worse.

  Dad was frantic. Still holding the phone, he rushed into my room to tell me that there was a problem with Mom. “We need to get to the hospital,” he said. “Now.”

  I shot Avery a panicked look. She simply nodded. “Go. I’ll stay here and explain to Noah. Call when you can.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed the duffel bag I had packed for my trip to Charleston. It contained everything I would need for an overnight visit, and since it was already after seven, I knew I wouldn’t be coming back before morning.

  I ended up not coming back at all.

  The car ride to the care center was a slightly surreal experience. Usually,
Dad played music or one of his books on CD. This time, he was absolutely silent. So was I, and it was because there was nothing I could say to make things better. It was out of our control. What if we got there too late? Worse, what if we arrived seconds too late? Would Dad blame me? He stayed home to make sure that he could drive me to meet Annalise the next morning. What if that decision cost him the chance to be with Mom during her final moments alive?

  Heading toward the center and not knowing what waited for us once we got there was absolute agony. The doctor who had called Dad said only that Mom had “suffered a setback” and that we needed to get there as soon as possible. Did doctors take classes in how to be vague? Or did they know that revealing bad news would be too traumatic for the loved ones? I stared out the passenger side window, knowing nothing could be more torturous than this soundless trip.

  Finally Dad pulled into the parking lot. He shut off the engine but didn’t get out. I waited for him to make the first move. I needed him to make the decisions so I could follow.

  “We’re here.” He stared out the windshield. The sun had set. I knew there was a galaxy of stars beyond the window, but the glare of the hospital lights prevented me from seeing them.

  I reached for Dad’s hand and squeezed. “Let’s go.”

  He squeezed back then opened his door. It was time to face whatever lay inside the care center. I held his hand as we walked across the parking lot. I even scanned the sky at one point. Maybe I would see a balloon, I thought. Maybe I would spot a sign telling me that everything was okay. But there was nothing but a dull dark canopy hanging over me.

  A doctor was waiting for us on the second floor. He told us that Mom had another scare but was now stable, They would need to reevaluate her medication again. I was relieved, but Dad was racked with guilt that he hadn’t been there. He refused to leave her side. We spent the night in her room, curled up on the slippery vinyl chairs.

  The next morning, Annalise picked me up. After a quick breakfast with Dad in the hospital cafeteria, we left for Charleston. I was still wearing the green dress, which was now wrinkled. While Annalise drove, I called Noah to let him know what was going on and to apologize.