I can’t lose those memories. Iwon’tlet them be deformed. They’re all I have.
I hurry home, bending my head and wrapping my thin coat to me to shield myself from the chilly October wind.
__
I’ve nearly finishedThe Long Goodbyewhen a sudden loud noise makes me jump.
It’s dark outside and I put the book down, rubbing my eyes while standing up slowly. What the hell was that? Did I just imagine it?
Another loud noise and I let out a stifled gasp. Did someone shoot?
I hurry out into the living room, where Mom has fallen asleep over her mountain of papers. Dad’s still not home, or he’d have made dinner. Maybe I should have cooked pasta or something, but does it make me sound like a spoiled brat to say that should be my parents’ job?
Why the hell couldn’t Mom take a break from her stupid papers to cook something super basic? Why does Dad always have to make dinner even though he works twelve hour days and he’s exhausted? Why didn’t anyone do anything special for my birthday?
Another loud report makes me forget all about dinner, birthdays and Mom. I glance out of the window and see a spark of light.
Oh.
Firecrackers.
Of course, it’s Halloween, and some kids have decided to fuck with the Days by throwing firecrackers on our lawn.
I’m about to head back to my room when Mom startles awake.
“Piper,” she gasps. “Please… please tell those kids to stop. I have such a headache, Piper.”
“Then go to bed, Mom,” I say through gritted teeth.
Sometimes I feel like the worst daughter ever, being so mean to Mom. But it’s infuriating to have such a helpless person for a mother. Aren’t mothers supposed to take care of their children? Why does it have to be the other way around?
The kids all make fun of nutty Laura Day, who stays in bed with one made-up ailment after another. When I’m not fending off their jabs at Dad, or at myself, I’m defending Mom. But it’s out of loyalty. The truth is, I secretly agree with them.
Mom! Just get up and stop being so helpless! Go outside yourself and tell those kids to get off your lawn! You have a voice and legs, Mom, don’t you? Use them!
I’d never say a single one of those words to her, though. Dad’s absolute devotion to her has worn off on me just enough that I do what she says, though I can’t help the string of unuttered cursewords that form in my mind.
I open the door, ready to tell the assholes to stop, when a hand suddenly fists my hair and drags me outside.
“What… what the hell?” I wheeze.
I don’t even have time to understand who or what is dragging me out before I find myself thrown onto the floor of a car. My hair is let go for just a second as I hear the sound of seatbelts buckling, then the revving of an engine, and the car flies away from the Guest House.
I do my best to sit up.
“What the hell?” I gasp. “You’re kidnapping me!”
At once, two hands beat down on my back and push me toward the ground again. But not so quickly that I don’t see my captor.
He’s wearing a creepy mask with a leering expression, the blood-red smile far too wide and pitch black holes for eyes. Twoslits for a nose. The mask was clearly made out of a paper plate and it’s held to him with an elastic. Other than that, he’s not wearing any costume. Just a hoodie that’s drawn over his head.
I don’t have to see the face behind the mask. Iknowwho it is.
I recognize that hoodie, and even if I didn’t, I’d recognize the spicy warm smell that comes from whatever soap he uses, mingled with the natural intoxicating scent of him.
Quill Nelson. My bully. Of course.
“Quill!” I yell. “Stop the car now! Let me out! What are you even do–”
