by Jon Athan
“Yep.”
“Is he treating you right? I don't have to teach him a lesson, do I?”
“Nope. He's not very funny, but he's a nice guy. He's nice to me, you know?”
“He better be. He can be a real ass–” Isaac bit his tongue mid-sentence, stopping himself from cursing in front of his daughter. He smiled and said, “He can be a real assertive guy. You know, he can be a little strict. Yeah, that's what he is.”
Isaac chomped into his burger, savoring the taste of the fast food. His day was quickly spiraling out of control. His daughter wasn't proud of him and his replacement was actually decent. He considered asking his ex-wife, the mother of Melanie, but he didn't want to be pummeled by more good news. If he couldn't be happy, he certainly didn't want to hear about his ex-wife's happiness.
Those forced to dwell in the darkness did not want to be illuminated by those in the light.
The reality of Isaac's situation was cold and depressing. It was not a simple, cliché relationship. He wasn't trying to win his ex-wife's heart or save his daughter by becoming a security guard. He simply wanted to be part of Melanie's life – a small, insignificant part. He didn't mind fading away, as long as he could do it with some dignity.
If he could make his daughter proud – make her feel loved while fixing his past mistakes – he wouldn't mind disappearing.
Isaac took a sip of his soda, then he said, “Well, now that I'll have a little extra cash, we can do more fun stuff together. We don't have to spend every weekend together or anything like that, but we can, you know, spend some time together every once in a while. I think there's a special day coming up, right? I can't really remember.”
Melanie smiled and rolled her eyes. She said, “Don't act stupid, dad.”
“What? I'm trying to remember. What is it? Is it almost Christmas? No, no, that just passed. Easter?”
“It's my birthday next month,” Melanie said, simpering like a child hiding a devious secret.
Isaac nodded and wagged his index finger. He said, “That's what it is. It's your birthday. Well, since I'll be busy at work for the next few weeks, how about I take you to an amusement park for your birthday, huh? I mean, it won't actually be on your birthday since your mom probably has some plans for you, but maybe a few days before or a few days after. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good to me. I want to go to... to Adventure Planet!”
Isaac puckered his lips and nodded, then he said, “Okay, okay. I think I can make that work. I'll make sure to call your mom and set that up. I'll save a sick day just for you. Remember that, kiddo, I don't use my sick days for just anyone. This is something special.”
Melanie giggled, then she said, “You just got the job and you're already going to ditch... Wow. I hope you don't get in trouble. A lot of kids in my classes get in trouble for ditching.”
“Don't worry about that. You just make sure you stay in school and don't end up like your dad. Go ahead and finish your burger. We need to go to a sandwich shop and pretend like you were eating over there. Your mom will kill me if she picks you up over here.”
Melanie simpered, then she said, “I know.”
Isaac smiled as Melanie ate her burger, glowing with her natural innocence. Although she wasn't impressed with his new job, he found some happiness in knowing she didn't hate him. He had disappointed most of the people in his life, he couldn't live with disappointing the girl he loved the most – Melanie. As long as his daughter remained in his life, he would have a reason to move forward.
Isaac glanced at the sunshine pouring through the window to his left. He smiled and nodded, accepting his new life. Everything will be okay, he thought, I can fix everything.
Chapter Three
A Full Day's Sleep
The bedroom was swallowed by darkness. Only a few slits of sunshine penetrated the closed blinds and curtains on the windows. A creaky floorboard and a flushing pipe occasionally echoed through the apartment, disrupting the silence. The crepitating engines and blaring horns outside added to the obnoxious ruckus.
Yet, Isaac found himself in bed, his face buried in his pillow as he tried to sleep. He only wore a pair of gray boxer briefs. The rest of his lean, unclad body was cooled down by the frigid bed sheets. His eyelids were leaden with sleep, growing heavier with each passing second. He would need a crowbar to pry his eyelids open. Slumber was only seconds away, preparing to whisk him away from reality.
The buzzing sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand echoed through the bedroom. The entire nightstand practically wobbled from the phone's vibrations.
Of course, Isaac could only blame himself for falling for a fallacy. Sleep in the middle of the day? It was never that easy in his life. There was always a roadblock – small or large – in his path. There were always hurdles scattered before the finish line to halt his progress. He grunted and groaned, irked by the call.
As he lifted his head from his pillow, he whispered, “What is it this time?”
He turned on the lamp on the nightstand, then he lifted the phone and stared at the screen – disappointed. The screen depicted the image of a young brunette woman with glowing brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones. Her kittenish smirk was seductive, capable of sweeping men and women off of their feet. The name on the screen read: Tracey Valdez. Tracey was his estranged girlfriend – they were together, but they were having a rough time.
Isaac muttered, “Tracey, Tracey, Tracey... What the hell do you want?” He swiped his finger across the screen, then he held the phone to his ear. He said, “Tracey, I told you I have to start working the night shift from now on. I don't have time for this. Why are you calling me? Huh? What is it?”
There was no response. The room was dominated by an ominous silence – dead silence. Only the sound of husky breathing could be heard over the phone – quavering breaths, like those from someone on the verge of crying.
Isaac glanced at the screen with a furrowed brow, unnerved by the deafening silence. The call was still connected, but Tracey was not speaking.
Isaac said, “I don't know what you're doing, but you need to stop. I have to work tonight. I can't take you shopping or do any of that bullshit if I don't have money.” There was no response. The impatient man sighed, then he said, “Fine. I'm going to hang up. We can talk about this later.”
Before he could disconnect, Tracey responded, “Don't. Don't hang up. I have to talk to you. If I don't talk to you about it now, I know you'll ignore it for the rest of your life. It'll be tossed aside like everything else. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. I'm... I'm standing up for myself. I'm speaking up, so don't you dare hang up.”
Isaac was baffled by Tracey's speech. His girlfriend was usually a passive, soft-spoken person. She had metamorphosed into a strong and powerful woman. It was something to applaud, but it was also out of character.
Isaac turned over and sat up on his bed, placing his bare back on the headboard. He gazed at the open bedroom door beside the dresser on the parallel wall, waiting for Tracey to strike.
The young woman remained mum, breathing heavily as she sorted through her cluttered thoughts. The speech seemed prepared, but she wasn't ready to face her emotions. She whimpered over the phone, fighting to compose herself.
Frowning, Isaac asked, “Tracey, what's wrong? What happened?”
With a cracking voice, Tracey responded, “Another one... Another one is gone, Isaac.”
“Another one? What are you talking about, babe?”
“You know what I'm talking about. Don't play stupid with me, you bastard. I... I lost the baby. I had a miscarriage. It–It's gone...”
How does one react to such a depressing confession?
Isaac glanced at the screen, surprised by the news. He didn't know what to say about the revelation. He was saddened by Tracey's pain. Yet, he couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. He didn't want more kids. Melanie, despite their turbulent family relationship, was enough for him. Still, he unders
tood Tracey's pain.
Astonished, Isaac said, “I'm... I'm sorry to hear that, sweetie. I should have been there for–”
Tracey interrupted with a loud huff. She asked, “You should have been there for my miscarriage? Is that what you were going to say?”
“No. I should have been there for you. I should have spent more time with you these past few weeks. I know you're hurt. We've been through this before, so I know what it's like. I mean, I'll never feel your pain, it's impossible, but I know you're hurt. I know that. I'm sorry.”
Tracey sniffled and whimpered, struggling to contain her pain. She was suffering from her loss and tormented by her boyfriend's ambiguity. At heart, she knew he didn't care deeply about having more children. They had the discussion many times before and the answer was always the same: I can't handle more kids.
Isaac said, “I know you really wanted a kid. I know that. You can always spend time with me and Melanie, though. You know she really likes you. She probably likes you more than her own mother.”
Tracey responded, “Melanie's not mine, Isaac. She'll never be mine. I know she's a great kid and you love her, but... but I'm not her mother. What don't you understand about that?”
“I understand, it's just... I just can't keep going like this. I can't keep doing this with you. Children are great and all, they're our future and they're sweet, but that's not what you want in your life. Trust me, kids can be a handful. Kids consume your life and you might just fail at parenting. You don't know what it's like to disappoint someone that's supposed to look up to you. It... It's fucked up. They'll end up hating you or the world. It's just not worth it.”
Isaac sat in silence, waiting for Tracey to respond. Her breathing and weeping vanished with Isaac's message. Tracey burst into a devious chuckle, laughing deliriously. She scoffed at Isaac, believing he was showcasing a fabricated sense of humanity.
She said, “You're such an asshole, Isaac. I can't believe you can sit there and spew all of that shit without laughing.”
Isaac furrowed his brow and asked, “What? What are you talking about?”
“I know you better than that. You don't care about me, our future, or our babies. You're probably smiling right now. 'Another one gone, another chance at freedom.' Yeah, that's what you're thinking, aren't you?”
“No, it's not like that.”
“It is. It's always been like that. You may not have been around for this one, but I know you were responsible for last time. I know you're the one that took my baby away, you caused my first miscarriage. I know it was you, you sick bastard! I know it was you! I'll never forgive you!”
Isaac held the phone away from his ear, disoriented by the screeching and howling. He stared at the screen, dismayed by his girlfriend's heinous accusation. He upheld his innocence, though. He was simply trying to get through life without another child.
Was that such a bad thing?
Isaac said, “Calm down, Tracey. You don't know what you're talking about. Come–”
Before he could finish, Tracey shouted, “You'll get what's coming to you! You'll pay for this!”
With her threatening message, the call disconnected. Isaac stared at the phone, astonished by the confrontation. He redialed Tracey's number, but to no avail. The calls failed to connect. He tossed the phone on his pillow, then he stood from his bed. The floorboards groaned as he paced back and forth. He constantly glanced at his phone, hoping for a call or a text message.
Although the entire conversation haunted him, a single sentence echoed through Isaac's mind: I know it was you. He sat at the foot of the bed, befuddled.
As he stared at the floor, he whispered, “What do you think you know, Tracey? What the hell are you thinking?”
The mystery stabbed at his mind, keeping him awake and mystified. The seeds of doubt and suspicion were planted in his brain, flourishing like plants in a garden. Sleeping after such a vicious argument seemed impossible.
I know it was you.
***
Isaac glanced over his shoulder and stared at his bedroom door. A groaning floorboard and a scraping sound echoed into his room. The slow, sonorous groan was strangely human, resembling the moan from a man in agony. The ghastly groan could send chills down the most unwavering spine.
Does a home feel pain or does it reflect the pain of the owner?
As another floorboard groaned, Isaac stood from his bed and glared at the door. The pattern resembled the sound of someone walking in the neighboring hall. The heavy steps caused the floor to vibrate under his bare feet. The lamp even shook on the nightstand, causing the bulb to flicker. Judging from the slow and heavy steps, he could only assume a burly, lethargic intruder had entered his home.
The person's intentions did not matter. A home invasion was occurring – and he was sure of that.
Isaac stuttered, “Sh–Shit...”
He grabbed his cell phone from his pillow and started to dial 911. Before he could tap the green 'call' prompt on his phone, a person walked by his door.
The person's appearance was uncanny – unearthly and unnerving. The intruder wore navy work pants and black steel toe boots. He was shirtless, revealing his lean physique. His skin was gray and coarse. The thick blue veins on his shoulders, chest, and forearms contrasted against his skin. He held a sledgehammer in his right hand, dragging it across the floor, and he held heavy steel chains in his other hand.
Yet, the intruder's odd skin and tools were not his most alarming features.
The man wore a cow's head over his dome. A Holstein cow head, dappled with black-and-white spots, was firmly situated over his head. In the darkness, the cow head appeared to be real and it looked like it was actually attached to his neck. It was not a cheap mask – it was a real cow head. The intruder could not be identified – no way, no how.
Isaac was awed by the man's appearance. As the intruder trudged down the hall, Isaac staggered towards the door. He slowly peeked around the corner to his right, protruding his head like a frightened turtle peeking out of its shell. The man shambled into the living room.
Isaac whispered, “I... I know you, don't I? You're... You're not supposed to be here.”
Eyes brimming with tears, he glanced at his cell phone. He could dial 911 with a single tap of his screen, but he couldn't muster the courage to do so.
Isaac shouted, “You're not supposed to be here! You're not supposed to be around me! You hear me?!”
There was no response. The heavy steps stopped. The sound of the sledgehammer scraping the floor and the clanking chains also ended. Once again, the apartment was dominated by an eerie silence. Considering the circumstances, silence wasn't preferred.
Isaac wanted an explanation – he wanted closure. Although the sun was up and the city was busy, the entire apartment was dark and desolate. He felt abandoned by the world. In order to sleep, Isaac had closed all of the blinds and curtains. Of course, the lights were also off. Shadows danced across the apartment, meandering like fog during a chilly morning.
With the light emitting from his cell phone screen, Isaac illuminated the hallway. Splinters protruding from the ground, the floorboards were scraped and scuffed. Blood was also smeared on the floor. Since the cow head didn't appear to be leaking, the young man assumed the blood came from the sledgehammer – a rational assumption, surely.
Isaac clenched his jaw, then he tiptoed down the hallway. He stopped and glanced around the living room. The walls were covered with bookcases, most of which were filled with horror novels and movies. There were two sofas towards the center and a flat-screen television to the left. As far as he could tell, the room was normal. The intruder vanished into thin air.
He glanced back at his bedroom. To his utter surprise, the floor was cleaned and repaired. The blood and the splinters vanished. The troubled man walked away from the living room, baffled by the surreal experience. The entire world seem illusory to him, as if he were walking through a dream. Although he questioned the existence of the intruder, he
was certain Tracey's call was real – unfortunately.
Isaac fell onto his bed. He tossed the navy comforter over his body, pulling the blanket up to his chest. Like a frightened child, he stared at the door and counted the passing seconds. To his disappointment, seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. When fear reigned supreme, time seemed to slow to a crawl.
Isaac whispered, “Bugaboo? Bugaboo, was that you? Are you... Are you looking for me?” There was no response and the intruder did not return. Isaac shook his head and said, “No, it was nothing. It's just my anxiety. I'm just nervous. That's all. I... I need to sleep.”
He tossed and turned on his bed, hoping to catch some sleep – at least a wink before work. His mind, however, refused to quit. Tracey and the intruder dominated his every thought, pricking at his unstable psyche.
I know it was you.
Chapter Four
A Tour Before Work
The setting sun painted the sky with tints of orange, red, and blue. A portrait of natural beauty was painted above the skyline, creating a peaceful aura. A coughing engine occasionally disrupted the tranquility, but the area was mostly calm. Considering its status, the abandoned side of town didn't have many residents. A few homeless people and drug addicts wandered the streets, but it was generally peaceful.
Isaac walked down the sidewalk, strolling beside a towering chain-link fence. He whispered, “Well, here it is...”
The wobbly fence circled the abandoned mall and the surrounding parking lots. The enclosed two-story mall covered approximately 23 acres of land – the largest mall in the county. The mall had four anchor stores at each end of the structure – north, south, west, and east. It was a fairly simple but effective building.
Under better management and with a pinch of luck, Madison Mall might have survived. The shopping center, however, was plagued by accidents and rumors of curses. After an uncontrollable blazed swallowed two of the anchor stores, the mall was permanently closed. The accidents stopped, but the rumors continued.
