Chapter Twelve #2
We approach the ticket shack, prepared to enthusiastically greet Jonathan.
But a woman dressed as a zombie greets us instead.
We purchase tickets and join the line corralled within the red velvet ropes leading to the old Victorian house looming atop the hill.
Lights flash in windows, and screams echo through the chilled air.
Ominous music, straight from some horror film, pipes in from surrounding speakers.
I usually have a pillow in front of my face when this music plays on the screen while Danika leans forward in giddy anticipation, yelling at the dumb people who are about to die.
I prefer to have control over the things that are meant to scare me.
I crane my neck in search of Jonathan without any luck.
Danika asks, “Should we text him?” She’s not looking very hard for him, more interested in the costumes passing by.
“He won’t check it,” Collin says, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “Maybe he’s taking the tickets at the front.”
Twenty minutes later, a guy with a half-melted face takes our tickets. The prosthetic is so realistic; it’s hard to look at him. But I force myself to meet his eye, the one that’s bright blue. Not Jonathan.
We actually have to go inside. I’ve been hoping this entire time that we’d find him and I wouldn’t be forced to experience the haunted house. I grip Collin’s leaf-stuffed arm, determined to stay close to him. “I’m closing my eyes for most of this, so don’t let me run into anything.”
“You’re no fun,” Danika scolds. “Nothing in here will really hurt you.”
“Tell that to my heart. It’s already trying to escape my chest, and we haven’t even entered yet,” I grumble. I’m not kidding. Danika cackles like I’m the biggest wimp. I’m not about to argue with her.
She boldly traverses the stairs and opens the door. “Let’s have some fun.” She has a wicked gleam in her eye as she smiles like a psychotic clown. I feel bad for the poor actors who cross her path.
I stick to Collin, burying my face in his shoulder when we round each corner.
Gripping him tight with every creak of a board.
My heart literally tries to leap from my chest every time a gruesome character jumps out of nowhere or sneaks up behind us.
Danika laughs in their faces. Seriously laughs, like this is the funniest thing she’s ever seen.
And I’m suddenly questioning my friend choice.
I spin around when I hear a whimper directly behind me. Collin disappears with Danika into the next room… without me. Before I can reach for him, the door slams shut, separating us. When I try the doorknob, it’s locked. I can hear him pounding on the other side.
“We’ll meet you outside!” Danika yells.
I slap my hand on the door, and a squeak of despair escapes from the back of my throat.
A door creaks open beside me. It’s my only choice, so I swing it open.
There’s a staircase leading down into the basement.
Nothing good ever happens in basements. Well…
that’s not true. I’ve had some hilarious moments in Collin’s finished basement.
But this one isn’t finished. The boards barely look safe to step on.
I swallow the heart lodged in my throat and decide to rush through.
I’m not the only person in this house. It can’t be that dangerous.
I just have to ignore everything that’s determined to scare me to absolute death.
What feels like hours later, I trip up the basement bulkhead steps, released into the fresh air, panting.
I kept thinking I’d run into other visitors as I groped my way through the near dark, but I swear they reserved that cobwebbed, hissing basement just for me.
I breathe in the cold air and release a billowing cloud of breath.
Orienting myself, I veer toward the side of the house on quaking legs.
I really hope Collin and Danika are waiting out front. I want to go home.
I notice two shadowy figures behind the shed off to the left of the path.
As I near, the strung bulbs illuminating the perimeter bring Jonathan’s face into view.
I smile in relief. Finally. I start in his direction and immediately halt when I notice the icy expression on his face.
The person in front of him is his father.
I don’t have to see his face to know it.
I can’t hear what they’re saying over the broken music-box effects blasting through the speakers. But his father is animated, waving his arms and shaking his head, obviously upset. Jonathan’s expression hardens. I’ve never seen him look so… hateful.
His dark eyes shift to me. I’m absolutely still, staring back at his feral gaze.
Jonathan’s mouth becomes a tense line when he realizes I’m watching.
Like I’ve invaded a private exchange no one was meant to witness, even if it’s in sight of anyone passing by.
My heartbeat stammers, and I find my feet stumbling backward.
His father grips his jaw and redirects his attention back to him. Jonathan knocks his hand away.
Nearly tripping on my cape, I rush to the front of the house, my pulse hammering in my ears. There’s no way he could’ve known it was me. He’d never look at me like that. Never. My body shivers.
“There you are!” Danika exclaims. “I was about to go back in and search for you. I totally imagined you curled in a ball in some corner, rocking, with your hands clamped over your ears and your eyes squeezed shut.”
“That’s very vivid,” Collin comments. Danika shrugs a single shoulder, owning it.
“We should go,” I say, wrapping my arm around Collin’s and continuing my quickened pace, forcing him to keep up.
“Whoa, what happened?” Collin asks, pulling me to his side with an arm wrapped around my shoulders. “Did you totally get freaked out or what?”
“I just want to go home,” I say again, not wanting Jonathan to know I was the one who saw him.
“Hey, there he is!” Danika exclaims, pointing behind us.
Collin stops. I close my eyes and reluctantly turn around.
“Jonathan!” Danika calls to him. Jonathan’s stalking across the lawn, away from the house toward a large false exterior that’s meant to look like a carriage house. It probably hides the staff cars and whatever they need to operate the house.
“Jonathan!” Collin bellows. He releases me. “Let me go get him.”
I grab his arm with both hands and pull him back. He eyes me curiously. “Looks like he’s in the middle of something. We should leave him alone.”
Jonathan swipes at his mouth. “Is he hurt?”
“What?” Danika asks, squinting. I didn’t realize I said it out loud. “What made you say that?” His back is to us now.
“We’ll see him tomorrow,” I tell them. “We should get going. My mother’s probably waking me before the sun to start getting ready for the party.”
Danika watches Jonathan for a moment longer as Collin and I head toward the car. She catches up to us and shoots me a curious glance that I purposefully ignore.