Screams

I bolt awake, shivering underneath my warm blankets. I swallow a sob and swing my bare feet off the bed. I flinch when they connect with the cold hardwood floor and take a deep breath. I push myself slowly off the mattress and tread lightly to my door, opening it as quietly as I can. Then I walk, heel to toe, down the cold-floored hallway. I go slowly, testing each floorboard for creaks before I step on it. I pause, breathing deeply, before I cross in front of my parents bedroom door.

I take one last deep inhalation and walk, heel to toe, what seems like miles until I get past their door.

I take the last step, and damn it all to hell, it has to creak. I freeze, not breathing until I’m sure everyone is still asleep.

So I continue. Heel to toe, down the hallway. And soon I come to a door. It’s forest green, I know that. But in the dark hallway, it's jet black. Like it goes on forever and ever. Like I could reach my hand forward and my fingers wouldn’t meet the smooth wood of the door but the surface of a cold black pool of water.

I take a deep breath (my imagination can carry me away sometimes) and reach out, sighing when my fingers brush the door that is indeed a piece of solid wood.

My fingers slide down the door until I feel the cold metal knob. I turn it.

Locked.

Figures, with the parents I live with.

I sigh, and take the key from the necklace on my neck. My poor parents are so oblivious, they didn’t notice when I took it from a drawer in their bedside table. Maybe they never imagined someone would try to take it.

I slip it into the lock and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when I hear a satisfying click.

I slip past the door and close it behind me, finding my way to the bed in the dark. I crawl under the cold comforter and slip away.

I wake to screams.

At first, I just lie in bed listening to the screaming with my eyes closed. But when I hear my name amid the screams, I open my eyes and sit up, staring at the closed door. I sigh and get out of bed, padding quietly to the door and twisting the cold metal knob.

I close the door and lock it hurriedly, up the stairs and into the attic, making sure the key and necklace are invisible underneath my shirt. Once I’m curled up on a dusty old armchair, I call out. “I’m here. In the attic!”

I hear footsteps running up the narrow stairs and the door flies open. I glance at my mom’s tear-stained face and my dad’s fear-stricken face, and then out the window into the street below.

I used to climb out that window and onto the roof at night to look at the stars. I don’t anymore. Because my parents put a combo lock on it. They didn’t tell me the combination. I guess they don’t want me climbing out there and throwing myself off the roof.

They’re stupid if they think I’ll do that. I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to die. I just want my brother back.

I take their hugs and kisses, but their words of caution and worry go in one ear and out the other. I’m kind of ignoring them, I guess you could say. I don’t really listen to anyone anymore. Not even my friends.

The difference, though, is that my friends know I’m not listening and they accept it. They talk because they know I don’t like awkward silence and they don’t like it either. They talk so I don’t have to. They talk for me. And for that I am grateful.

My parents shepherd me downstairs and into my room. They think I’m to one that is stressed and needs to go back to sleep.

But there’s school today, and I’m still going even if they think I shouldn’t. So when they leave I get dressed in a dark green shirt and jeans, lacing up black converse (the ones with the red laces, the ones the brother gave to me) and brushing my hair quickly. I walk calmly through the house, packing my backpack in front of my parents shocked eyes and leave the house, calling “See you after school!”

And then I run, because I know they’ll try to follow me. I run hard and fast and thank the gods that my brother talked my into track and field. I run the seven blocks to Lexi's house, not stopping except at stop signs and red lights.

I bang on her door because I know she’s alone and she pulls me into the house, slamming the door behind us. We hold tight to each other as I catch my breath. She whispers that she’ll drive me and for once I’m listening.

I was never a very talkative person unless I was with my brother. Lexi knows that. She’s known me longest aside from him.

Minutes later she appears from the kitchen with a toasted and buttered whole wheat bagel, hands it to me because she knows I probably haven't eaten yet, and we head out the door.

I slide into the shotgun seat in her 1965 Mazda that she can’t seem to let go of and pull the familiar blue seatbelt over my chest. I close my eyes and she starts the car, pulling out of the driveway.

"Your brother's not coming?"

Lexi's twin brother Leo usually comes with us since we all go to the same high school. I didn't notice until now that he isn't with us.

Lexi shakes her head. "Dad dropped Leo off on his way to work so he could get to his drum lesson."

I nod and roll down the window, sticking my hand out and letting the wind tie itself into knots around my fingers. My hair is whipping around my face and I close my eyes, breathing in the fresh smell of wind and a hint of my lemon and mint shampoo.

And then we pull into the parking lot and I have to close the window.

We sit in silence for a bit, staring out the window at the school doors and kids laugh and yell to each other on the way in.

Then Lexi squeezes my hand and we leave the comfort of the car and enter the chaos of school.