by Trudy Stiles
“You need to get some rest,” my father says. “And so do you,” he says to Tonya.
“You’re right, dear.” Tonya backs up and makes eye contact with me, nodding her head. Her eyes tear through mine, sending a chill down my spine.
She disappears through the door, and I exhale.
My father grabs my hand once again. “My God, Noelle, I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so relieved you’re going to be okay.” His voice is calm. Tears roll down my cheeks. “They had to repair your lacerated spleen. You also have stitches behind your right ear along with at least four bruised ribs. One with a hairline fracture in it. My God, if that rib snapped, it would have punctured your lung. Do you know how lucky you are?”
I need to tell him what really happened. Will he believe me?
“Daddy–”
“Shh, you heard the nurse. You need your rest.” He rubs my hair again.
The pain in my chest is dull, my heart slower. Sleep is about to take me, but I don’t want it. I need to tell my father everything.
“Noelle, you’re such a gift to me. You’re everything. Please rest so you can get out of here.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
He settles next to me, relaxing in the chair. “I remember the day we found out your mother was eight weeks pregnant. It was Christmas Eve and we both cried tears of joy. She was able to carry you full term, and you were born perfect and healthy on July fourteenth. Your mother was already so sick, riddled with cancer. But you were a breath of life into our lives. Our gift and Christmas miracle. Christmas in July. When your name left her lips for the first time, I knew it was perfect. Our Christmas angel, Noelle.” His voice drifts as his hand rubs my arm up and down. “You were perfect in every way. You gave your mother so much strength those last few months of her life.” His voice breaks as if he’s fighting back his own tears.
I sink further into the bed as my body fully relaxes, even though my mind is racing with murderous thoughts of my stepmother. What did the nurse give me?
“Close your eyes,” he orders. “Rest and heal. We need you home.”
I manage to nod as I begin to drift off to sleep.
“I love you, Noelle. More than you can ever imagine.”
His words don’t comfort me as they should. He’s my father and I love him, but I can’t help but think how he’s blind to the monster that is his wife. She’s out to destroy him. And she wants me dead. How could he not know this?
“Sleep well, my precious angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
As much as my father claims to love me, he can’t protect me from her.
It’s about time I do it myself.
Heath
Past
Age 18
THE MOON DANCES OFF my ceiling, and I can’t wait any longer. I need to see her. It’s been a rough couple of weeks since Noelle’s attack, and she’s been fighting back every single day, getting stronger. I glance at my clock and it’s after midnight. I’ve been expecting her text for over four hours.
Something’s not right.
Where is she?
I grab my phone and send another text to her.
Me: Hey. Where are you?
Me: If you’re tired, I understand. But I want to see you to at least say goodnight.
A few minutes go by, and there’s no response.
Twenty more minutes and still no response.
My heart pounds in my chest. I’m beyond worried.
She was acting so strangely after I picked her up from the physical therapist’s office today, the memory still fresh in my mind.
I pull up in front of the medical building, Noelle is waiting outside.
“I was expecting to hear from you at least forty-five minutes ago,” I say as she slides into the passenger seat. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. My session just ran longer than expected today.” She fastens her seatbelt, and I notice her hand is shaking.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” she answers quickly.
“Wow, almost two full hours of physical therapy. You must be so sore,” I note, and she nods her head vigorously.
“Totally.”
We turn the corner and head toward the county road. When we pass a parking garage next to a new office building, she cranes her neck as if she’s looking for something. Someone.
“Noelle?” I ask, curious why that particular garage is so interesting to her.
“What?”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Yeah.” She’s now looking over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the building getting smaller and smaller behind us.
“What’s going on?” I ask, concerned.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” She’s wringing her hands in her lap.
“Are you okay? You’re not acting like yourself.” She hasn’t been herself for a while now, ever since the attack. Maybe even longer.
“That’s my father’s new office building,” she says. Now it makes sense why she was craning her neck.
“Oh.”
“I thought I saw his car. Did you see his car?” Her nerves seem heightened, and her behavior seems even more odd.
“No, I didn’t see his car. Listen, you’re not acting right. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just thought I saw my dad. That’s all.” Her voice trails off, and she rests her head against the passenger window.
“That’s cool that your dad’s office is so close to home now. Right?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
I make a few more turns and soon we’re in our subdivision, private, gated homes lining the streets.
“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, and she inhales sharply.
“Nothing. I’m doing nothing. Why do you ask?” Her voice shakes, and she’s incredibly nervous.
“What the hell is going on with you?” I demand, raising my own voice inadvertently.
She exhales, trying to calm herself down. “I’m fine. I promise.” But I don’t believe her.
I place my hand over hers and squeeze. “You’re really worrying me, Noelle.”
She squeezes back. “Don’t be worried. Please.”
She shifts a little more in her seat and winces through some pain. I know her ribs are still badly bruised, and her incision from the surgery is very uncomfortable.
“I love you,” I say, needing to hear her tell me the same in return.
“I love you, too.” A weak smile spreads across her face as we pull into her driveway.
“Do you want me to come in for a little while?” I dread spending any time in her house when Tonya’s there, but I also feel the need to be with her constantly. Protecting her.
“No!” she blurts out, startling me with her abrupt response. “I mean. I need to shower and lie down for a little while. I’ll text you later?”
I’m concerned that she’s really tweaked from all of the pain meds she’s been on. Her behavior is really erratic.
“Okay,” I resign, reluctantly. “I’ll text you in about an hour?”
“That’s good. That’s good. I think,” she mutters.
“Noelle?”
She turns to face me and practically leaps across the seat into my lap, her hands wrapping around my head, fingers tearing into my scalp. Her mouth devours mine violently. Her hips press into mine as moans escape her lips. Moans of excitement and of pain.
Her tongue dives into my mouth as her hands hold my face in place. I carefully wrap my arms around her waist, trying to slow her down. “Hey, take it easy,” I mumble against her lips.
“God, I love you so much,” she pants, her mouth covering mine once again. Her kisses are urgent, desperate. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.”
Her pain finally catches up to her, and she winces in my arms, favoring her ribs. “I’m sorry,” she says, trying to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry.”
“You need to take it eas
y,” I say. “I want to be with you so fucking much, but you need to heal. And we can’t do this here.” She’s folded over me, still on my lap, no room for either of us to move. “As much as I would love to be with you right now, we can’t. You’re still injured.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, surprising me. “Please don’t cry, Noelle. You know I want you so damn much.”
She nods against my forehead and pushes away from me. “I don’t know what got into me,” she whispers.
“We have plenty of time. Give yourself a few more weeks to get better and I promise, when the time comes, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”
Tears flow again and I gently pull her against me. “Just breathe,” I say into her ear, letting my lips linger.
“What if we don’t have time?” she asks, and I stiffen against her.
“What?” I push her away so I can look into her eyes. They’re darting all over the place and now I really think she’s on something.
“Never mind. Forget I said that.”
“No. What do you mean by that?” I press.
“You’re right. I’m not myself. I just need to get some rest.”
“Noelle?”
“Seriously, I’m exhausted. I need sleep. I’ll call you later?” She opens the driver’s side door and gingerly places her feet on the ground. Before she slides off of my lap, she kisses me tenderly on the lips. “I love you, Heath.”
She walks away from my car, and I watch her go into her house. I sit there for several minutes, expecting the front door to open, Noelle emerging. But it doesn’t. And she doesn’t.
I back out of her driveway and drive through the cul-de-sac and pull into my own, all the time watching her house, hoping I’ll see her run across the lawn to my car.
Her goodbye was strange. Unsettling.
I do everything in my power to stop myself from running to her house and busting down her door.
My text messages remain unanswered. Now my heart is pounding harder in my chest.
Maybe she fell asleep? Maybe she can’t hear my texts?
I call her phone, and it goes right to voicemail. Relief floods through me when I realize her phone must have died. She’s probably upset that I haven’t called, and she may have no idea her phone is even dead.
I’m going over there. I need to see her now.
Before I leave the house, I let Gus know where I’m going. It’s still almost a nightly occurrence, but if I don’t tell him or the security team where I’m going or they aren’t aware, all hell could break loose.
Her house is eerily quiet when I approach, and my heart sinks. I realize I haven’t captured fireflies for her tonight when I see the empty firefly house hanging from the hook outside her window. There won’t be any fairies tonight. I’ve broken an almost perfect string of firefly magic for her. I look around to see if I can catch a few before she notices that I’m here, but it’s too late, there aren’t any in sight.
When I tap on her window, I notice the light catcher isn’t there. That’s strange.
That light catcher has been hanging in the same spot for over four years, since her fourteenth birthday. I tap lightly on the window again before I slide it open. Her room is completely dark, and I whisper her name, “Noelle?”
There’s no movement from her bed at all.
“Noelle?”
No response. I push the window open wider and step over the sill into her room. That’s when I see her bed is empty.
What the hell?
I see her phone is on the night table next to her bed, and I walk across the room to grab it. It’s dead.
Her bed is still made neatly, no sign of anyone sleeping in it at all tonight. It’s now after one in the morning, where the hell is she?
The room is completely silent, no sounds coming from anywhere in the room or even the house.
I turn and walk toward her bathroom and notice the door is open and the light is out. I enter the bathroom anyway, my heart in my chest. “Noelle?”
Nothing.
Her bathroom is also empty, no sign of her at all.
The only place in her room that I haven’t checked is her closet. The place where we shared our very first kiss. Our “sticky kiss”. I don’t see any light shining from underneath the door, and my heart burrows deeper in my chest. I slowly open it and immediately turn on the light.
Everything is in its place. Nothing disturbed. She’s not in here either.
Worry rises again as I frantically look around her room, hoping to find anything that will tell me where she is. She wouldn’t ever fall asleep anyplace else in this house; she’s always locking herself in here, waiting for me to arrive. She would have expected me hours ago, so we could have our nightly talk through her open window. Stealing kisses. Talking about leaving for school in a couple of weeks, sharing dreams of our future.
This isn’t like her at all. She definitely wasn’t herself earlier today, and now I’m terrified that it’s all connected.
My eyes fall onto her bed and notice something missing.
Mr. Jingles.
He’s normally propped up against her pillows, sitting like he’s waiting for her to return. He’s always on this bed. Always.
Bile rises in my throat, and I make a mad dash out of her window. So many things about tonight are wrong.
Everything about her room is wrong.
Her light catcher is missing. Mr. Jingles is missing.
Noelle is missing.
I run as fast as I can through her yard, over the fence and into mine. I take the back steps three at a time as I rush through the door, flipping on the den then kitchen lights.
“Dad!” I yell into our silent house. My parents have been asleep for hours.
“Dad!” I yell again as I dash through the foyer and up the stairs.
“Heath?” my father’s groggy voice meets me at the end of the hallway. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
My mother emerges from behind him, fastening her robe around her waist.
“No. Everything is not okay,” I pant.
He opens his phone and presses one button. “Gus, get to the house. Now.” He snaps his phone shut and says to me, “Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
My mother looks worried. Terrified.
“It’s Noelle,” I gasp.
“She’s gone.”
Heath
Present
“GOOD MORNING,” NOELLE says as she slides up my body, her naked breasts pressed against my chest. “I can’t believe you’re still asleep.”
I smile and kiss her forehead. She’s cool, so I pull her tighter against me. “You’re so cold, babe.”
“You’ll warm me up, like you always do,” she purrs. Her lips kiss a path from my shoulder to my jaw as she slowly moves her right leg over me. Her perfect body slides on top of mine as she continues to softly kiss me in the places she knows get me ready for her. “I love you so much,” she says as her tongue trails down the center of my chest. I suck in my breath, anticipating where she’s going, and I can’t speak. “Tell me what you want,” she moans, kissing, sucking, biting her way down even further.
“You,” I gasp. “Now.”
She pulls the blankets down with her body as she makes her way lower, soft sounds escaping her lips.
“Look at me,” she demands as she wraps her hand around my length.
She’s never talked like this before, and I’m suddenly rock hard, her warm breath teasing the tip of my dick. She’s ready for it. I’m ready for it.
“Look at me,” she orders again.
She wants me to watch.
I pop open my eyes and lift my head from the pillow to watch Noelle perform. Suddenly, her hand drops away and her warm breath turns ice cold. When she looks up at me, her eyes are hollow and look frozen. I suck in my breath as I see her once gorgeous hair muddled with seaweed and dead fish. Her body is draped in moss and filth.
What the fuck is happening?
I try to
yell, but nothing comes out of my mouth. This isn’t Noelle.
My heart is pounding in my chest, pain rips throughout my entire body. I hear waves crashing around us, but we’re in my bedroom. None of this makes sense. I’m terrified.
“Look at me,” she says again, her voice sounding further and further away.
I can’t speak. I can’t scream. I’m frozen in place as the seaweed covered corpse writhes on top of me.
I’m gasping for air, trying to breathe. Trying to do anything to get away. My arms are pinned next to me, my legs paralyzed.
I open my mouth to try to yell, but only air comes out. Cold air freezes between us, forming a shield between me and her.
Her face contorts, her wrists suddenly tied in front of her. Her mouth is now closed, eyes scared and pleading with me. She begins sliding away from me, sinking into the floor. Her tied hands outstretched above her head like she’s slipping into the depths of the ocean.
“Heath!” she calls out.
I try to reach her, but I can’t move. I’m fighting to save her. Fighting to break free from the invisible chains that have me tied down to my own bed.
She sinks further and further away from me, eyes wide open and terrified. And there’s nothing I can do to help her. Nothing at all.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
I sit up with a start, covered in sweat. Was that a dream? What the fuck was that?
The sun is shining into my room, and Noelle’s not here with me.
My heart is still pounding in my chest, the vision of her sinking into the ocean is still vivid in my mind.
“What the fuck?” I shout out loud as I try to catch my breath.
I swing my legs around the edge of the bed and realize they’re shaking. I’m shaking all over. I’ve had intense dreams in the past, but this one was insane. What the hell did it mean?
After I got back from Point Pleasant last night, I had a few beers and went to bed. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. Visiting the place where Noelle took her final breaths was more difficult than I could have imagined. I pictured her emerging from the water, completely unscathed and beautiful. Exactly how I remembered her.
