3.

3.

 

I step out into my backyard and take in a deep breath. The sun is almost entirely exposed from behind the dark mountains. I study the dew in the grass, the slight rustle in leaves. I break the peace with an ear piercing whistle.

My dog, Babikan, barks somewhere in the trees on the north side of the field. There are three whistles that he’s trained to respond to. The first is to see where he is. If he hears this more than once, he knows that I am out of earshot and needs to come closer. The second is to help. No matter what he’s doing, he comes as quickly as he can. The third is to get help.

Satisfied that he is okay, I step inside to grab a cup of coffee. It is set on a timer, and is my favorite part of every morning; the smell, the taste, the feeling of my thoughts getting into a straight line. There is nothing better.

My sister, Marissa, made fun of me for years for needing so much sugar in my coffee. It has been seventeen years since I have heard her mocking but I still frown with every spoonful.

I wonder how Hayden would like her coffee. I wonder how often she's fed. I wonder what lies Marissa has beeb telling her to keep her locked in.

I blow on the surface of the liquid in the mug, and suck the steam gently into my nose. I have a knot in my stomach now. I shouldn't have started thinking about Hayden. Some people have the “the one that got away” in their life. The one that if they had only seen at the time how important they would be later on in life, they would have done something differently. That’s Hayden. Not that I have a romantic interest in my niece. Far from it. She is the only family that I can ever hope to salvage a relationship with now, and she’s the only reason I am still alive and fighting. I had known her for three days and have been waiting for her every day since.

 

Day one: our sister, Taylor, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Her eyes are such a soft brown, with a shimmer of gold throughout them.

Day two: she's named Hayden Taylor Grace.

Day three: Marissa comes to visit for the first time. She refuses to hold Hayden. She barely speaks. Brooding in the corner. We return home from the hospital and Marissa pays little to no mind to us as we settle Hayden into her new home. I am sure that this hurts Marissa, seeing us all so happy together. Marissa was adopted into our family at a very young age, and had grown to resent us. If it was possible for her to be acting more strangely than before, she had been since our parents had passed away.

Day four: I couldn't find Taylor or Hayden. I woke up and it was unusually quiet in the house. Although we lived in a well furnished three story home, sound traveled well through the halls. I got up and searched the usual places to spend the weekend. The cars were in the driveway. The kitchen looked unused. I glanced out the window above the sink into the back yard. Marissa was circling from the back of the large shed a short distance away. She leaned on the large tree that stood by. Physically, she looked exhausted, but she lifted her chin and watched the leaves sway in the wind, smiling. Still no sign of the other two.

Once inside, she explains that an old friend of Taylor's came to visit and they went to walk around the park and get food to get Taylor back on her feet and active. Suspicious, I asked her to describe the friend, but she claimed not to have seen her.

Day five: I fell asleep waiting for Taylor return the previous night. I jumpped out of bed and cleared the stairs three at a time to the bottom floor of the house. Silence. It's too early for them to be gone. The sun is barely over the horizon. Running back up the stairs, I yelled for Marissa. My heart was pounding in my chest. She did something to them. Marissa's room was down the hall from mine, the door was tucked around a corner on the far end. When did she paint it red? Why did it smell like....it was blood....and it was locked.

I tore through the house to the basement and out the back door. I don't remember my feet touching the ground between the screen door and the barn. There was a chain and lock holding the large doors closed. Since when did we lock it? I pulled on it to no avail and went around the left side where the tree stood. There was a hatchet, a shovel, and a wheel barrel. I grabbed the hatchet took it to the side of the barn. There was no use in my mind trying to break the lock or chain that seemed brand new. I was drenched in sweat, and my entire body was shaking before I was able to make a big enough hole to slowly tear apart piece by piece. I kicked my way through most of the planks of wood. I tried twice to squeeze through the hole before I had made it big enough. The splintered wood tore my clothing and clawed through my skin. The smell didn't hit me until I was flat on my feet inside.

A rope was tied from a railing fifteen feet high. I could take the stairs and untie it, but my legs were heavy as lead, and it would do no good anyhow. A scream brewed deep in my chest, but my lungs couldn't find the air to produce it.

Taylor’s body hung stiff. The only movement in the place was the prickling of my skin. Her once smooth, nude skin was caked in dried blood. Searching for just a glimpse of her face, I stepped forward. It was once my foot hit the ground again that the temperature dropped into a deep chill. Shocked, my body twitched uncontrollably. I thought I saw somebody move in the shadows behind her. Then I realized it was as if the shadows themselves were moving.

A strong arm circled my waist and a hand tightly cupped over my mouth.

"There's nothing you can do for her now. We need to leave before Marissa gets back," a voice whispered in my ear. I could feel the heat of their breath and their soft lips on my ear. 

I struggled only for a moment, taking another look up at Taylor's body. It all happened so quickly. I'm not sure that I remember every detail. I wish I could. I wish I had taken note of every last detail of her body, of the barn, of the house. I wish I had held Hayden one last time. I wish I could see those innocent eyes, hear her cries. I wondered only for a moment where Marissa had taken her.

The shadows were in fact one being. It lurched forward swiftly and engulfed Taylor's body. A deep hum shook the barn. It felt like a slow heartbeat. A dying heartbeat. I tried to tear away the fingers from around my mouth. I assumed it was a man my size or bigger, because there was no getting away. I could feel the hair of his arms in the my fingers. My nails dug into his skin and I felt the warm blood on my finger tips. He drug me through the doors that had been locked, turned me, and pushed me against the barn. His hand again cupped my mouth before I could utter a sound. The screw that had developed in my belly had exploded into a chill that wouldn’t leave my body, no matter the heat of the sun beating down on us now. The man’s other free arm pressed against my chest.

“I need you to be quiet. I need to listen to what I tell you. I need you to trust me. Do you understand?” the man said. He looked as upset as I was terrified. He had pale blue eyes like I had never seen before. The man’s hair stuck to his forehead. It looked as if it had been under control at some point during the morning, but this turn of events had it was with it. His shirt was bright white. It clung tightly to his lean, muscular shoulders. I nodded as well as I could against his hand. He released me quickly. “Let’s go.” And we set out behind the barn, over the fence, and through the grassland. If I looked back, I surely don’t remember that now.