That’s it, Addison. No more scary movie nights with the guys!
I ditched out on hanging with the boys today, feeling the need to spend some time with my family. I’m not entirely sure as to why it’s hit so hard right now, but the last few days of unease would be a good bet. It’s pushed me to be closer to them, to be in the moment with them. I call it LGS: Little Girl Syndrome.
A feeling that you need your mom and dad around. Like you’re back to being this shy, scared little girl, looking to her parents for protection and support. Ithappens from time to time, and I’ve never been worried about jumping into that role again. I truly don't think there will be a time in my life where I won’t look to them for help. They are my role models after all.
My dad is strong, brave, and loyal. He’s always taught me to stand up for my beliefs, even when you have the majority standing against you. I’ve heard him tell me on countless occasions that no one can take me down, so long as I have my mind on the right path. Teaching me that strength comes in many forms within our bodies. That mental strength is just as important as the physical one.
“Physical strength will get you through a sprint, Peanut. But it’s your mental strength that will test your endurance and let you win the race,” he would say. Of course, I had absolutely no clue what he was mumbling about, at least not until I joined the track team last year.
Mom, on the other hand, wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s compassionate, understanding, and forgiving, always finding the good in people. Even if that good is buried deep down, and should probably never be looked for. I admire that about her. How she can always believe that someone could be saved or forgiven. That no one is beneath redemption.
I believe there are some lines that can’t be crossed. Ones which, if broken, you can never come back from. But even then, Mom’s still willing to try. Being around her is like being wrapped in light and love. Her energetic, bubbly personality is contagious. It’s so addictive, she can make shopping for couches seem interesting.
I love my parents and I’ll never regret choosing to spend some time with them. Especially since my dad has been gone for the last week. Which I think is the main reason why, when I suggested a sleepover day, they both agreed so quickly. It’s also something we haven’t done for a long time.
Sleepover day was created one day when I was seven and fell off my bike. I had been trying to catch up to Max and Kade and skidded on some loose gravel. My tires started to wobble and within seconds my balance was thrown off and I crashed. I landed on my arm in a weird way which put me in a cast for the next six to eight weeks. Missing so many adventures and events, my mood was in the pooper and I spent a lot of time curled up alone in my room.
Mom and Dad didn’t like that I was isolating, and hauled every blanket, pillow, and cushion our house had into the living room before coming to collect me. They told me if I wanted to be sad and mopey it was fine, but I was to be sad and mopey with them while we watched movies, played games, and ate copious amounts of junk food. Everything you would normally find at a sleepover. It then became a tradition in our house that when someone was feeling a bit down or felt like we needed to spend some time together, they could call for a sleepover day.
After watching two different rom-coms and kicking my parent’s asses at Monopoly,—still the undefeated champion, thank you very much—the pizza finally arrived.Thank the baby Jesus, because I’m starving!Dad stands to get the door while Mom and I head off to the kitchen. I’m bouncing with excitement, thinking about the greasy goodness of melted cheese and tiny pepperonis. My stomach is practically starting its own symphony in agreement, which has Mom chuckling as she reaches for the plates.
You know, because we’re civilized.
Glancing at my phone, it blinks with missed messages from the guys—mostly Zane—complaining about how they aren’t having any fun, because I’m not around to pick on. If my eyes could roll any harder, they would get stuck looking at the back of my head.
Me
Your ridiculous! It’s one day!
We can get back to the regularly scheduled teasing tomorrow
suck it up
Kade
You’re*
Zane
Fine, but imma be there bright and early so i get a full day!
I’m not even going to dignify him with a response to that, as I shake my head and put my phone back on the counter. With a snort, my eyes roam across the kitchen and dining room to find I’m alone. Mom must have gone back to the living room cushion fort while I was texting, but it’s awfully quiet. Plus, I thought we would eat at the table.
“You better not have started without me!” I call out, heading towards the living room. “I called dibs on the cheesiest piece, and I’m not afraid to throw a hissy—”
All further words die in my throat when I round the corner and my eyes take in what’s happening. My parents gagged, hands tied behind their backs. Mom unconscious on the floor as masked men push multiple gun barrels into the side of my fathers head. Weapons pointed at me, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
I can’t breathe. I can’t remember how to breathe.
My heart falters, the beat quickly turning into an arrhythmia with how fast it's moving. Fear is permeating every inch of the room, my own and my families as my fight or flight reflexes kick in. My hands move into a surrendering gesture as I try and take a few steps back the way I came from. If I can make it to the kitchen, I can run out the back door. I can… I can.. get—
“Tsk, tsk, David. You’re a hard person to find, but I’m slightly disappointed in you. You of all people should have had the forethought to change your first name. Getting sloppy after all these years I see,” states a low, husky voice.
Whoever it is, it’s not one of the masked figures as footsteps echo from the porch and enter the front door. Slow, calculated, like they have all the time in the world. In walks a broad shouldered man, with a dark hood covering his head and wearing a long black jacket. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his shoulders are relaxed as he saunters to a position in front of my parents. His face turns, just barely glancing towards me over his shoulder, but it’s enough for meto catch the red angry scar.It’s him! He’s been following me, following us!That means I wasn’t seeing things yesterday. He was there, watching us, stalking us.
The grin that crawls up the side of his face, sends that same shiver throughout me and instinctively I move backwards, getting ready to run. My brain is scrambled, repeatedly screaming “not friendly, not friendly!” at me, as if I wasn’t already blatantly aware of that fact from the guns and masks.
The scarred man turns fully, heading for me and something clicks. I’ll be damned if I let him get to me. I may be small, but track has made me quick and agile. Pivoting on my heel, I go to take off but am immediately stopped by another masked figure who has taken up a position right behind me. Somebody that large should not be able to move around that quietly, it’s not fair! I didn’t even hear him creep up. Under the ski mask, a grin curves his lips, his eyes narrowing on me like a predator watching its prey. Hand on his gun, his head cocks to the side as if daring me to make a stupid decision so he can use it.
