“Okay, Momma,” Janet said.
Sara stared at Janet for a minute. That was twice now that she had suddenly referred to her as momma as opposed to mommy – but then again, John and James had gone through similar stages, trying Ma, Mommy, Mom, and Mama when they were growing up. Lack of sleep was really starting to catch up with her.
"Oh my Dolly, can you tuck her in as well."
Sara glanced around the room and saw 'Dolly' sitting up against the corner of the bed on the floor. She picked up the old ceramic thing and tucked it in between her daughter and her new imaginary friend.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” Sara said. She took one last peek at her daughter before closing the door and tiptoeing down the stairs for a glass of water from the kitchen. Last thing she needed was to wake up the twins as well.
Half way down the stairs the faint sound of knocking caused Sara to pause. After listening for a few seconds and hearing nothing else she continued on her downward path. The knocking was louder this time and she would have stumbled if not for her hand catching the side of the wall.
The sound wasn't coming from upstairs and it sounded just dull enough to possibly not be inside the house. Please don't let it be inside the house. Everything went quiet again and by now Sara wasn't really sure if she wanted that glass of water.
It must’ve been something outside, she thought. I’m sure it was nothing.
But that was when Sara heard the rustling and scratching…coming from downstairs.
There was no mistaking it.
There was something or someone inside the house.
Chapter Five Bumps in the Night
Sara froze in fear. She stood there for a moment, her hand pressed against the wall. Her heart was pounding and her mind was whirring around and around, desperately searching for a solution.
I have to act, Sara thought quickly. I have to protect myself!
Taking a deep breath, she clutched the bannister and darted back upstairs into the bathroom. There was a sharp pair of scissors on the counter – kitchen shears that Sara had used earlier to trim her twins’ hair. She grabbed them and clutched them tightly with one fist, sticking the sharp blade into the air as she walked softly out of the bathroom and made her way down the stairs.
The hair was standing up on the back of Sara’s neck as she made her way into the living room. The air was silent and heavy, so chill that goose flesh broke out all over her body. She swallowed – the noises seemed incredibly loud – and tightened her grip on the scissors.
Snap!
Sara jumped and nearly shrieked in fright. The sound was coming from the back yard, and fear swelled inside of Sara’s heart as she pushed through the dining room, to the rear of the house. Something was outside, rustling and snapping and crackling.
She felt as though she would die of fear as she made her way to the door. Closing her eyes and muttering a brief prayer for help, Sara flicked the porch light on but the bulb was dead.
Sara opened the door just a crack and then kicked the bottom corner so it would swing harshly into the side of the house. She jumped out at the same time brandishing the sharp scissors wildly in front of her like a madwoman.
“I’m calling the police,” Sara called loudly, her gaze shooting wildly around for the intruder.
No one was there.
“So, you’d better leave!” Sara added, fear crawling into her voice.
Sara jumped sideways hard as the door came back to close against her leg. Shit. Okay, maybe her nerves were on edge just a little bit still. She looked around in the moonlight but couldn't see much in the shadows. She tried not to focus on them too long just in case something else decided to make an entrance.
A loud scratching sound made Sara yelp with fright. Someone dark and small moved across the lawn and Sara screamed. The thing skittered towards the light, chirping and rustling in the leaves and grass.
When Sara realized what it was, she sighed with relief. It was a raccoon – a small, furry, innocent little creature covered in banana peels and apple cores.
“Did you get into the trash?” Sara asked softly, frowning down at the raccoon. “You’re a bad boy!”
The raccoon chirped before darting off into the woods at the back of the lawn. Sara sighed with relief and collapsed against the doorframe, dropping the scissors onto the concrete porch with a loud clang.
"If you were a little taller these scissors would have been deadly," Sara whispered into the night. She would have felt better knowing she had given the damn animal a scare anywhere near the size one of the one he had given her just now.
“I’m losing my mind,” Sara muttered under her breath. “All of that, just because of an animal!” Maybe the kids would enjoy a pet of some sort. A guard dog might not be a bad idea sometime this year.
~~~~~
Sara barely slept that night. This continued for days and the days turned into weeks. She was hearing things, seeing things, and wasn't sure what was real and what was not most days anymore.
To add to Sara’s anxieties, Janet hadn’t been doing well, either. She’d been sleepwalking, nearly every night, then spending most of the day in bed. Sara was worried – school would be starting soon for Janet and the twins, and Sara knew she had to find a way to end this.
Maybe Paige would have some ideas, she thought one lazy afternoon, sitting in the kitchen and shelling peas. She’s been in this neighborhood for a long time.
Sara got up from the table and reached for the scrap of paper – when Paige had come over to deliver the casserole, she’d included her telephone number. Sara hesitated for a second before dialing.
Was it rude that she had waited so long to follow up with the welcoming woman?
Paige answered immediately.
“Hello?”
Sara was almost at a loss.
“The phone didn’t even ring.”
Paige laughed.
“Sara, is that you? Is everything alright? You sound tired.”
Sara stifled a yawn. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “Feel like coming over for a cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” Paige said warmly. “I’ll be right there.”
Sara barely had time to hang up the phone and cover the peas with some foil before there was a knock on the door. She walked into the foyer and opened the door.
Paige was standing there wearing the same outfit as before but there was a warm apple pie in her hands. Who was Sara to judge; especially considering how she had been feeling lately.
“I thought you could use this,” Paige said sympathetically, shoving the pie into Sara’s hands.
“Thank you,” Sara said. She resisted the urge to yawn again. She knew it was silly, but the kind gesture almost made her want to cry – when was the last time someone had been so nice to her?
“Of course,” Paige said sweetly. She followed Sara inside and sat down at the kitchen table. Sara poured two glasses of iced tea and cut two large slices of pie, handing one to Paige.
“This looks amazing,” Sara said. She yawned again, holding her fork above the pie. Despite the gorgeous confection in front of her, she felt no appetite.
“You poor thing,” Paige said. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” Sara said automatically.
Paige raised an eyebrow.
“It doesn’t look fine,” she said. “You can tell me, Sara. We’re neighbors now. That means we’re also friends,” she added.
“It’s just…” Sara trailed off, biting her lip and looking down at the untouched piece of pie. “It’s all so much. I don’t know what to do. Janet’s barely sleeping – I keep finding her in the middle of the night, half asleep, stumbling through the halls. And the twins have totally withdrawn! It’s like, I know they’re teenagers…but this is too much.”
“Thirteen-year-old boys can be very difficult,” Paige said lightly. “Trust me, I’ve been there.”
Sara frowned. “And what did you do?”
Paige waved her hand dismissively in the
air. “Oh, you know, the usual,” she said with a little giggle. “He’s with his father now, I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“Oh,” Sara said. She sighed deeply. Emotion swelled inside of her and she blinked back tears. “I wish Kurt were here. He always knew what to do.”
“Your children should be more aware of that,” Paige said gently. She reached out and put her hand on Sara’s arm. “If you ask me, I think they’re being a little ungrateful.”
Sara blinked.
“Ungrateful? What do you mean?”
“You’re a single mother, Sara,” Paige said. “That requires tremendous sacrifice. And you’ve got three children! That would be a lot, even for two parents.”
“It is a lot,” Sara admitted. She felt guilty, but only for a second. Admitting her burden made her feel twenty pounds lighter.
"I mean would you even be here alone if it wasn't for them?" Paige gave Sara a grim but sympathetic look.
"Well... I mean..." Sara was slightly at a loss for words. She didn't remember mentioning to Paige how the accident had happened.
"I'm sorry, did I overstep?" She looked genuinely abashed.
"Oh no. It's just that the boys had snuck out one night and we had to go pick them up when they got stranded. It was in the middle of a terribly foggy night and a storm had just rolled in... and well yeah."
She didn't have the heart to finish the story. Sara had tried not to dwell on the reasons why. She didn't want to blame her kids for her husband's death, but was it possible she did resent them some for the accident?
“Maybe your children don’t appreciate you the way they should,” Paige filled the silence, digging her fork into her slice of pie and taking a large bite. “Maybe they’re taking you for granted.”
Sara frowned. “They’re only children,” she said.
“Oh, Sara,” Paige said, laughing gently. “I wouldn’t say thirteen is so young! And seven is more than old enough to manipulate. Did you know toddlers can manipulate you, just by crying and whining?”
Sara thought for a moment. “I don’t like to admit it,” she said slowly. “But…maybe you’re right.” She sighed, raking a hand through her brown hair. “I wonder if Janet is doing all of this for attention.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Paige replied. “You have to stop giving into her, Sara. And if she keeps doing this, she needs to be punished.”
"No, wait. Paige she has had an imaginary friend almost since the first day we moved in." Sara sighed. "Punishing her makes no sense. Maybe she is just lonely."
Paige sighed around a mouthful of pie.
"Does she ask you to do things with or for her friend? Do 'they' talk about you?"
"Well sometimes but mostly I think she talks to her at night or when she thinks I am not listening. Lily seems to have made her more withdrawn though just when I thought she was adjusting to Kurt's death." Sara pushed the plate of pie a few inches from her. She just didn't have the appetite right now.
"Lily? Well it sounds like she is being extremely unappreciative. I think you might need to remind her who is in charge even if it means getting rid of her friend." Paige patted Sara's hand. "Has anything else been bothering you?"
"There are noises and voices sometimes. I want to chalk it up to Janet sleepwalking and her "friend" but I hear it as well and I am afraid the boys are starting to notice things." Sara sounded crazy even to herself.
"Like I said my dear, kids will be kids. When one starts it is very common for the others to follow suit and then you feel like you are losing your mind because you begin to sympathize with what they say is going on." Paige smiled at her. "This is why you need to start taking charge and putting the children in their place."
Sara nodded.
“I think you’re right,” she said softly. “Does that make me a bad mother?”
“Absolutely not,” Paige said firmly. “A good mother always knows what’s best for her children.”
Sara thought for a moment. She felt as though her burden was beginning to ease away, gently, like a cloud fading into the sky.
“You’re so good to me,” Sara said. “Thank you.”
Paige smiled serenely. “Of course,” she said. “After all, what are friends for?”
Chapter Six A Terrible Mother
After Paige left, Sara felt better than she had in weeks. She busied herself with cleaning the kitchen and roasting a chicken in the oven for dinner. Soon, the house was filled with warm, savory smells.
“Dinner!” Sara called loudly from the bottom of the stairs. “James, John! Janet, come on!”
Tiny footsteps thundered down the stairs. Sara was annoyed to see James and John covered with dust and grime.
“Wash up, boys,” she said sternly. “What have you been doing?”
James and John ignored their mother as they ran to the bathroom, shoving each other and splashing water all over the freshly-painted wall.
“Janet,” Sara said sternly. “Have you washed?”
Janet nodded solemnly.
Once everyone was seated at the dinner table, Sara served up the chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. She was very proud of the hearty gravy she had made from scratch and the mushrooms in it were delicious.
It went very well poured all over the chicken and potatoes. She began to eat, but stopped when she noticed James and John weren’t touching their food.
“What is it?” Sara asked. “Chicken and gravy is your favorite.”
James and John exchanged a silent look but neither child said a word.
"Well, what's the problem?" She snapped, eat your food.
“We hate chicken,” James finally said after a long pause.
Sara narrowed her eyes. “Since when?”
James bit his lip. “Since always, Mom,” he said quietly. “We only like turkey.”
She stared at the boys in disbelief. That couldn't be right. She was sure she had cooked chicken on multiple occasions or had she?
Was Paige correct and the boys were trying to break her down? There was no way she could forget her children's favorite foods.
"Janet, honey, you like the chicken right?" She looked at her youngest for reassurance.
The only eyes staring back at her were Dolly's. Janet was staring down at her plate pushing the food around with a fork. She hadn't taken a bite.
Sara stared for a long moment before slamming her fork and knife to the table.
“Fine,” she snapped. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You don’t like chicken? Fine,” she repeated, grabbing the roasting pan from the kitchen table and dumping the whole thing in the garbage.
James, John, and Janet stared at their mother, their mouths hanging open. Tears started to run down Janet's face as she clutched her toy close to her chest.
“Well?” Sara asked, eyes blazing. “You don’t like dinner, you may as well go to bed,” she said, pulling off her apron and balling it up. She threw the bundle of fabric down to the floor and glared at her children.
All three children leapt up from the table and silently left the room. Sara stood there for a moment, seething with anger.
They’re so ungrateful, she thought as she stared at the steaming chicken carcass in the trash can. I work all day, cooking and cleaning, just to take care of them! It’s like they don’t even notice! Of course they like chicken... who doesn't like chicken!
Sara spent the rest of the evening cleaning up the kitchen. She considered putting together a French toast casserole for breakfast and then thought better of it. They didn't deserve something that took that much effort.
If they were hungry they could make their own breakfasts - cereal wasn't hard. Without even taking a bath and still churning over who actually loved chicken in her mind, Sara climbed into bed and let exhaustion overtake her.
Sara had barely been asleep for ten minutes before James and John rushed into her room.
“Mom,” James said urgently. “Wake up!”
Sara
blinked sleepily, sitting up in bed and rubbing her forehead.
“What’s going on,” she asked. “What is it?”
“There’s someone in our rooms,” John said. “Mom, get up!”
The note of panic in her son’s voice made Sara’s heart begin to pound with fear. She climbed out of bed and pulled a robe tightly around her body before following her sons into the hall.
Sara walked into John’s room and flicked on the lights. She frowned.
“I don’t see anyone.”
James whimpered.
“There was someone there, I swear it,” he said.
She went to the closet space connecting the two rooms and walked through it into the next room. The room was just as empty as the previous one.
"Well where did they run off to?"
"They were in John's room mom," James reiterated.
"Have you boys been sleeping together?" This was news to her. They were so happy to have their own spaces why start sharing again. It was probably Janet sleepwalking. I should go check on her.
Neither answered.
Sara sighed.
“You’re both thirteen years old,” she said sternly. “Don’t you think that’s a little old to be afraid of the dark?”
“I don’t know why you brought us here, Mom,” John said quietly. “We were happy in the other place.”
“You were happy when we first got here. Don't pretend like you aren't now.” Sara snapped. “And get back to bed.” She stood in the doorway and watched as both boys settled down in their respective beds.
Just as she was about to walk towards the room at the end of the hall, the loud sound of a door slamming made her jump in a panic.
“What was that?” James asked fearfully.
"Stay here," Sara commanded. If there was one thing she was getting used to it was all the slamming in this place. She ran down the stairs and grabbed a flashlight, prepared to defend herself. That was when she heard the rustling and scratching.
It was coming from the cupboard near the bottom of the stairs. This was becoming a regular routing around the household and it was getting old fast.
Sara rolled her eyes. “Janet, come out of there,” she said loudly. “I’m not kidding around!”
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