by Tara Brown
Hanna cried wishing it had been her, if only it had been her. She wished for death and wondered why her father had never just killed himself?
Roland rubbed her back softly, he stayed quiet, just as she needed him to. Slowly she became what her father had, a shell of a human.
"I want you to commit me. I need to stand trial for the murder."
Roland took her hand. He led her down a hallway to a room. She shivered as he helped her sit.
He flicked the lights off and walked away.
She heard nothing but her breath as she sat alone in the dark.
Suddenly light filled the room from a projector.
A black and white movie began to play on the wall in front of her. Hanna looked around for Roland, but saw that she sat alone in the room.
The movie was of her father. He stood in a boxing ring with a man. The other man had his back to her. Her father nodded as the man swung out violently and struck her father in the face. He was knocked back. She gasped. The man ran from the view of the camera quickly.
He father staggered slightly and then began to tremble. The camera got closer to him as his skin began to crawl. She felt as if she were trapped inside of a horror movie as his legs began to grow. He fell back onto the mats. She closed her eyes as his clothes began to tear away from his expanding body.
It was special effects, she was certain it was.
She peaked through her fingers, as suddenly where her father had stood, a giant monster took his place. It's face and body was hideous. It bulged muscles from every limb. It looked around, it realized there was a camera on it. It ran after the camera, which dropped instantly.
The movie stopped as it closed in on the monsters face. She looked at the eyes, they were his, there was no doubt.
She sobbed.
Chapter Three: How do you say stupid in Americano
The days turned to weeks before she knew it.
The video had proved it. She had made Roland play it over and over. He was a monster, her father was a monster. He had created her and she had turned out like him.
She felt as if she watched herself withdraw, growing mad just as her father had. She wondered to herself what had brought him back from the brink? Had it been her mother? She recalled him laughing, she recalled him smiling. They were few and far between the memories of such things, but she remembered them just the same. She remembered his face when she lost her first tooth, he had seemed overjoyed in the smallest things.
“You must stop this nonsense, your aunt and uncle have filed missing person reports and are declaring you dead to the police as your friend is. They have filed to have you declared dead.”
She looked up from the oversized brown chair not even realizing she were in the study. She looked out the window wondering when the trees had turned brown?
“I wish that I were.” Her words were as empty as her heart.
“That is nonsense and we both know it. Yes your friend died as you changed. Yes your other you might have been the one to kill her but it was an accident.” He walked to her, kneeling on the ground before her. Worry filled his eyes so deeply she couldn’t see his face beyond them, “Yes it is the worst thing that could possibly have happened. Yes.”
He shook her slightly, “If he had known you were like him even slightly he would have taught you about it. Your blood showed nothing of the sickness. Something has triggered this, don’t you want to know what made you this way?” His eyes filled with something else, anger, “Don’t you want to know who made you the way you are?”
She looked at him suddenly realizing he was right, “Yes.”
He stood, “Your father has tested your blood every year since you were born and never has it shown the slightest mutation. You were normal. It is possible this was dormant and awaiting a catalyst. Honestly though you've gone through the change he feared the most, Puberty. He assumed it would be puberty that changed you. But you've gone through puberty, you’ve grown up, nothing has changed until two months ago. When I brought you here that night I checked your blood. It has changed, it is his blood now. Someone has to have known they could turn you and how.”
She looked at him biting her lip, trying desperately to recall what had happened.
She remembered nothing, the days surrounding the fateful night were still blank.
“Will I change again?”
He nodded, “Yes but it will be slow like it was for your father. We only have him to compare to but his changes were several months apart in the beginning. Then when he started taking the elixirs he never changed.”
“I will shower and we will go see my aunt and uncle.”
His lips tightened.
She frowned, “What aren’t you telling me?”
He sighed, “They will think it was you, whatever happened to her they will blame you. You have been gone a while, missing since the night your best friend died. Not to mention you were the last person to see her alive. They will blame you.”
"I am to blame. I deserve to be sent to prison."
"You will never find out who triggered this from prison. What happens if you change in prison Hanna? They will experiment on you. The government would use someone like you. Your father dealt with this all his life."
She nodded, “You're right. What can I do then?”
He looked sickened, “I have an idea.”
****
Sounds filled the air around her suddenly, as the cold air clung to her. She could see the blue and red lights flashing. She could feel the warmth of something touching her arm, as a voice spoke, “It will be alright.”
She glanced around dazed, her head hurt where Roland had bashed it with his flashlight. Her hand shook as she tried to lift it to her head, to feel where the warm liquid dripped.
The person, lifting her and wrapping her in a blanket, spoke softly, “Miss Holland everything will be alright.”
She felt his warm strong arms lift her up into him. He pulled her close to his chest. She felt everything coming back, Roland's ridiculous plan seemed to be working.
“I’m confused.” She whispered. Something about the man carrying her was making her body feel odd. She leaned into him more, as he carried her out of the woods.
“I know sweetie, its okay now.”
Her voice cracked, “Where is Rebecca?”
“The doctors need to see you Hanna, they need to examine you.” He pulled her back and looked her in the eyes. His piercing blue eyes filled her hazy focus, “Everything is going to be different but I promise you're safe now okay.”
She nodded curling into him. Something about him made her believe the things he said, even though she knew they could never be true. She found herself smelling him, her mind questioned it but her body wouldn’t listen to reason.
He put her down on the cot and she was suddenly filled with the cold air that rushed between them. The paramedics stepped in to examine her. She watched the police officer who had carried her, as the other men strapped her into the cot for transport. She watched as they closed the doors to the ambulance, ending her view of him. In the small gap of the closing doors she caught a last glimpse of the dreaded forest. She wished she never had to see again, but couldn’t help wondering how they had ended up there in the first place. It looked just as it had in her dream. She shivered and tried to relax into the cot.
The doctors examined her at the hospital, everyone was excited about her survival of whatever had happened. She knew they would find small traces of GHB. She knew she looked underfed from not eating. She hated the fact that it had helped her look as if she were truly an escaped captive.
When grilled about the events by the young handsome blue-eyed police officer, she played the part well. She was devastated about her dear friends death and sickened by her lack of memories. She was generally no help what so ever, as she recalled nothing they could use. She didn’t have to lie, she remembered nothing. It wasn’t like they would ever believe she had turned into a horrid monster. She didn’t even believ
e it.
She lie in the bed quietly looking out the window at the city of Portland wondering what she would do to start the search for answers. Lost in thought, she hardly noticed when her aunt and uncle finally made their first appearance.
She felt her eyes watching them, studying them. Her father believed them to be behind it all. He believed them to be evil.
Her aunt's face looked truly relieved. She was genuine, as tears rolled down her grief stricken face. She sat at her bedside and sobbed, “Oh thank god. We thought you were dead. We thought they hurt you like your friend.”
Her uncle squeezed her hand, as his lower lip trembled, “What can you remember love? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head, “Nothing, I remember nothing.”
He looked down at his shoes, he looked sickened. He truly looked upset by it all. She knew her father had wanted them as an easy culprit. After watching them she had no doubts in her heart, her aunt and uncle had not done it. They never even knew a thing about her father, beyond his lack of parenting abilities. They wouldn’t know how to make her become like her father. They had no reason to do it.
“Are her parents okay?” She asked trying to focus on Rebecca.
Her aunt shook her head, “No, first the brother and now her. No.” The words burned her soul, what remained of it.
She nodded, “I will need to see them.” She needed to punish herself, she needed the horrific pain the sight of them would bring. She also knew that if she truly had no knowledge of her best friends death, she would be there for them. She would feel their loss with them, it was her loss too.
“Well when do you get to come home?" Her uncle spoke softly.
"Tomorrow."
Something happened in that moment that caused her some doubt. An exchange between them occurred, she didn’t know what it was but something stood out. His tone and her eyes darting at him. They knew or feared something.
"So soon?" Her aunt asked looking confused.
Hanna smiled sweetly, “Yes I’m very excited to come home.” Again their eyes exchanged a look. It was so subtle that had she not been looking for it she would have missed it.
"The doctors don’t think that maybe you should stay in?"
She frowned at her aunt, "No. There is nothing wrong with me beyond a slight concussion and malnutrition."
Her aunt pasted the fakest smile on her face, it was rigid, "Well you get some sleep sweetie. We will see you at the house tomorrow."
She frowned as they both walked toward the door, "Will you pick me up?"
Her aunt shook her head, "Oh of course. Silly me. Yes we will be here in the afternoon."
He uncle nodded along, "Night Hanna."
Their incredibly short visit and strange behavior made her suspicious. Her father could have been right about them. Something was up, of that she was certain.
Roland came to visit her directly after they left, as if he had been awaiting their departure.
He looked handsome for an old man, in a white golf jacket and black chinos. She smiled at his inability to look casual.
He smiled back at her sweetly, “Well good to see you on the mend then.”
She nodded, “Yes, my head is starting to feel better, slight concussion they said.”
He winced, “I wish there had been another way.”
She shook her head, “No this is perfect. It's exactly as it should be.” Her eyes misted, “I deserve at least a smack on the head.”
He frowned, “No you deserve to be rid of this curse, which is why I’m here.”
Confused, she tried to imagine what he was talking about.
He looked at the floor momentarily and nodded as if arguing with himself, “Against my better judgment I bring a message.” He cleared his throat nervously, “A Mr. Marcus Dragomir would like you to accompany him to out tonight.”
She frowned, “I’m not allowed to leave here until tomorrow.”
He nodded, “Yes he will take care of that.”
She grimaced deeper, “Marcus Dragomir, the man from my fathers stories that took place in the 1800’s? The one whose blood had healing properties according to my deranged father?”
"Hanna."
She shook her head, "What? It's too much Roland."
He nodded once sharply, “He will pick you up at eight sharp.”
She sighed, “I have nothing to wear but a hospital gown. I'm not leaving here with my ass to the wind.”
He picked up a large shopping bag, she hadn’t noticed he had brought it in with him.
“Stop cussing. Everything you need is in here.” His eyes grew very serious, “I can't advise you on this and god knows your father never listened to me, but I would be very careful with him if I were you. He is not what he seems to be. His plans always benefit him, even when they seem to be helping you.”
She nodded, “Thank you Roland. I will be very careful.”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead softly, “Goodnight miss.”
“Night.”
He walked to the doorway but looked back at her, “Your aunt and uncle, did they betray you as we suspect?”
She nodded, “I believe they have an agenda. I don’t know what but something is off with them. I need to know how they knew to trigger it and why.”
He nodded, “Very good.” He walked from the room leaving her feeling confused.
The moment was all she got as the young policeman entered smiling. He brought her a tea, “Hi.”
She smiled not able to help herself, something about him made her happy, “Hi.”
“How's the head?”
She sighed, “Sore but not nearly as sore as my back from laying in this bed.”
He laughed, his laugh sent a shiver up her skin, “Yeah these beds make you want to get better.” His dark blond hair and blue eyes gave him the wholesome boy next-door look she enjoyed. She assumed he was within a few years of her age.
“So I need to go over your statement again.” He spoke softly.
She nodded wrinkling her lips, “I don’t think I recall anything else.”
He nodded, “I just want to make certain, the first few hours are usually the best.”
She winced, “Wow then we're screwed.”
He laughed again, sending a shiver over her body, “Well either way lets try shall we?”
She watched as he pulled out a pen and a small pad of paper. He looked at her and smiled, “So you were seen with Miss Macmillan the night you both disappeared, can you recall where?”
She shook her head, “No. We always did the same things though so if I had to guess…”
He stopped her short, “No guessing. If you don’t recall its okay.”
She shrugged, “Nothing then.”
“Okay well you were at a Starbucks. You were caught on video camera around eight in the evening. It’s the last place you were seen.”
She smiled lost in the thought for a second, “The pumpkin spice latte.” The words were a whisper.
His eyes jumped in surprise, “You remember?”
She realized she did, “Yes, we went to Starbucks because it was the first day of the pumpkin spice latte. It was her favorite. She always got a latte on the first day of that one.”
Her voice cracked as she realized tears trickled down her cheeks. She stared off into space not blinking, recalling the evening, “We went to my aunts house. Rebecca called her mom and dad because we wanted to go to the movie, but they weren’t home. My aunt made cookies, pumpkin chocolate chip.”
“Did you have a latte too?”
"What?"
"The drink, I'm just trying to see if you both ate and drank the same things."
She shook her head, “I don’t like espresso. I had an Americano.”
He chuckled, “That is espresso.”
She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks, “Its coffee.”
He shook his head, “Espresso and boiling water. Its what they made in Italy for the Americans who hated the espresso.”
<
br /> She frowned, “I didn’t know that.”
He smiled, “What happened after the cookies and coffee? Did you make it to the movie?”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I remember not feeling well, I was sort of sick or something. I told Rebecca I couldn’t do the movie, my stomach hurt. I don’t think we went to the movie.” She bit her lip searching her mind.
She wouldn’t tell him anything else if she could remember. Anything else would incriminate her. The memories stopped at the hazy stomachache, “I don’t know. There is nothing else.”
He smiled, “Well remembering Starbucks and the cookies is something.”
She nodded weakly, “Yeah.” The memories she did have were plaguing her. She remembered Rebecca's face clearer than any memory she had in her entire mind. She was holding her coffee and laughing about the very good-looking and extremely flirty barista.
He put his hand on hers encompassing it completely, his skin was warm to the touch, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She looked up at him feeling the tears again, she wanted to tell him everything. His honest face demanded it from her. She hated the idea of lying to him.
“I will see you at your parents house tomorrow.” He spoke standing.
She looked at him confused, “My parents house?”
He closed his eyes, “Right sorry your aunt and uncles.”
She nodded, “Tomorrow?”
He nodded, “Yes, I will be posting a watch at your house. The drugs the kidnapper used on you are blocking your memories. The kidnapper might not know that.”
She bit her lip, “You think I could be in danger still?”
He nodded, “Whoever did this to you and Rebecca may want to finish the job.”
Terror filled her, the lack of answers was alarming. Her aunt and uncle could want to finish what they started, if it was really them. If it wasn’t a madman could be after her. Either way she didn’t like the way she felt.
