“Shh. Shh. It’s okay.” I stroked her pajama-clad back. “He’s having another nightmare.You’reokay.”
But she wasn’t. These past few weeks had been beyond traumatizing for her. Jake was not the brother any of us remembered, but for Grace it was especially confusing, as she’d never been given a reasonable explanation as to why the boy she adored had come home a shell of his former self. I got it – Mom thought she was too young to burden with such information – but at this point, her day to day existence was so terrifying, what did it reallymatter?
Quinn burst into my room carrying his pillow, blanket, and stuffed cheetah. With a frightened look on his face, he swung the door shut before jumping into my bed and wedging himself securely against me. I watched him slap his hands over his ears to keep the screaming out. This had become a near nightly ritual since Jake’s homecoming: me in bed with Grace and Quinn. Before this whole ordeal began, neither one of them had looked to me as a source of comfort. I was just the boring older sister. Who would want me when there were fun boysaround?
Oh, how the tides had turned. There were no more fun boys in our house. Clearly Keith was their best shot, but although he’d stayed home since Jake’s return, he was on and off… and not just of drugs. Some days he was almost normal, but other days his erratic, aggressive behavior and vampire-like, bloodshot eyes made him unsuitable comfort food for our little siblings. Kyle was…well… doing what he did best these days, staying the hell out of the way. Jake’s outbursts were so violent and unpredictable that it was deemed too dangerous for him to remain in the room they’d once shared, so he’d now taken up residency in Keith’s. And Jake… even if we wanted to have a conversation with him, we couldn’t… I mean, my god, that poor boy lived inside his own private nightmare world, chock full of demons and monsters, where the main form of communication wasscreaming.
All of a sudden, the sister no one wanted to hang out with had become the go-to girl in the McKallister household. Any decisions that were not Jake-related went through me first. I’d been dropped into the role of surrogate mother, and not to brag, I’d become a fairly efficient substitute for the real thing. Soon, it seemed, I couldn’t move anywhere throughout the house without my dual chattering shadows. Surprisingly, I welcomed Grace and Quinn with open arms. The angry, egocentric teen I’d been a few months ago was gone. Life these days was too harsh and unforgiving for such self-serving antics. My focus now was safeguarding the future of two innocent littlesouls.
Huddled on the bed, I soothed the frightened kids with soft whispers of reassurance. Jake’s nightmares were rightfully unnerving, sending an icy chill through the bones of those of us who were awakened by them nightly. Clearly he was reliving the horrors of his imprisonment, and we all felt his mind-numbing fear. Sometimes, his sleep-talking outbursts even revealed the injustices inflicted upon him. Those were the scariest moments – the ones where I instructed Grace and Quinn to cover their ears. Listening to Jake beg for mercy or plead for his life was not something their young ears needed to hear. I wished mine wouldn’teither.
“Emma, make the tent,” Quinn cautiously whispered, as if Jake could hear his voice over all thescreaming.
“I’m already on it,” I answered, as I crawled to my knees and tied my blanket to the headboard posts, creating a little tent for the three of us to take shelter under. The screams intensified as I reached into my side table to fetch the flashlight and the book I’d read to them from last night. Through the thin walls, I could hear Mom and Dad trying to soothe Jake, to no avail. Tonight, as with most nights, my brother was inconsolable, and even the slightest touch was enough to send him reeling in horror and violently lashing out at anyone in the vicinity. As a result, my parents had no choice but to keep a safe distance and watch helplessly as their broken son raged into the night against the ghost who continued to torment him. I’d come to realize that the only way these episodes ended was when he’d screamed himself to exhaustion. Only then would peace be restored… at least until the followingnight.
“I want him to stop,” Grace cried out, covering her ears. “Why don’t they makehimstop?”
“They’re trying, Grace. Jake needs time toadjust.”
“That’s not Jake,” she said, her face scrunched in anger. “That’s not mybrother.”
Her words shocked me. I’d never heard Grace voice such contempt. It was no secret that she was distrustful of Jake, based on her adverse reaction towards him anytime he was near, but this wassomethingelse.
“I wish he’d just go away and nevercomeback.”
“Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,” I answered in a harsh voice. “That’sjustmean.”
Grace’s body immediately began to shake, and her lips puckered in protest. Oh, crap. Before I could stop her, my sister erupted into uncontrollablesobbing.
“Oh, great.” Quinn sighed dramatically. “Now we have stereosound.”
His statement was so random and so out of place coming from a kid his age that I actually giggled. My baby brother joined me in some inappropriately placed laughter. Grace stopped her crying long enough to punch Quinn intheback.
“Hey,” I admonished, grabbing the offending hand, “No hitting in thesacredtent.”
“Stop laughing at me then!” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her slightchest.
“Okay, I’ll stop.” I hugged Grace, and she slowly relaxed enough to sink backintome.
Quinn continued to laugh but now only to annoy her. I gave him adirtylook.
“Zip it,” Iwarned.
Another loud scream cut through the night, sending a shiver through my littlesister.
“Emma?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong with him?” Grace asked, her voice so tiny and defenseless that tears sprang instantly tomyeyes.
I’d been dreading this conversation. Mom’s insistence that we keep the two in the dark about Jake’s kidnapping was understandable, given the horrific circumstances, but they obviously knew something wasn’t right. Besides that, Grace’s attitude toward Jakeconcernedme.
“He was kidnapped,” Quinn answered, acting as if it were commonknowledge.
“How do youknowthat?”
“I hear things. I’m not a baby. I’m going to be sevennextweek.”
