Well, I fainted.
Now that I know the feeling that precedes it, I can tell someone before I hit my head on the floor.
But wait…it doesn’t feel like I hit my head or injured myself at all.
My eyes slowly open, and I find that whoever decided to prank me about Grak is still here.
I’m lying in my bed, and the big green face hovers over me.
I scream, which only makes Grak’s face close in on me.
“Ginger468, your screams will awaken your mother. She is upstairs, is she not?”
“Don’t hurt my mother!” I beg, bordering on sobbing.
Those heavy brows draw together. “I would never. I swear on my honor.”
I blink rapidly and finally accept the voice. It’s undeniably him. And I remember now that I’ve told my gamer friend almost everything there is to know about my family. He knows I live in my parents’ basement and that my mom is sick.
How could he do this to me? How could he use all this information to track me down? Why? To what end?
“Grak? I thought you were my friend! Why would you do this to me?”
He seems confused. “Catch you when you fall from faintness? This is what friends do.”
I grunt and try to sit up, but he has one big hand on my shoulder.
I slap it away. “What are you doing here?”
Grak smiles. God, the costume is super elaborate. The ears. The horns. The warrior bun. I’d be impressed if this were a fantasy gaming convention. But right now I’m too overwhelmed for that.
“You are unwell. But don’t worry. I will take care of you. Let’s review. You invited me here, and I came here on one of Santa’s sleighs.”
“So, you’re pranking me, and you’re a crazy person. Great,” I rasp.
“Ask me something only I would know,” Grak says.
“What?”
“Are you hearing me?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“Ask me a question only Grak would know,” he repeats.
I stare at him, running through different scenarios in my mind. I won’t call the police. He may be messing with me, but I don’t think he’d hurt me. Should I scream and wake up Dad? The last thing I need is my overprotective father shooting first and asking questions later.
Still, there’s something kind and sweet in his eyes, if delusional. This is definitely the person I’ve been gaming with.
“I…I can’t think,” I say.
He nods and says, “Very well. Your favorite dinosaur is a triceratops, and your favorite Christmas movie is A Muppets Christmas Carol.”
He means well. I can see that now.
But that doesn’t mean I should let my guard down. I don’t want to involve the police. I just want him to get home safe to his family, even if he doesn’t like that idea. Someone is looking for him, I’m sure of it.
“Okay, Grak,” I say. “It’s you. I believe you. Can I sit up now?”
