Chapter Three
Luke spent the rest of the evening trying to help me feel better.
I think if I’d have asked, he would have hand fed me.
He was right though; I feel much better now that I have some food in my stomach.
After eating, he insisted that I take a shower and get into bed while he finished cleaning up after dinner.
The thought was nice, but the shower water turned out to be ice cold.
I don't know why I didn't assume that was going to happen when the water earlier never got warm.
So, it ended up being more of a quick rinse than something relaxing. Hopefully tomorrow I can have a redo.
We decided to stay upstairs in what we assume is the main bedroom.
All the rooms upstairs are about the same size, so it’s hard to tell which one is the nicest. The one we chose has a huge poster bed, though, which is kind of fun.
We found some extra sheets and decided to hang them over the frame, so it’s like we have a makeshift tent or fort.
Now that I’m thinking about it, Luke is really trying to get me as close to camping as he can.
I climb into bed and try to get comfortable.
The bed is lumpy and somehow both too soft and way too hard.
I want to push the thought of how many people have probably slept in this bed out of my mind.
So, I grab my phone to start scrolling mindlessly before remembering that it’s not going to work out here.
I groan, setting it back down on the nightstand.
I think about digging my book out of my bag but I’m so tired I can’t make myself climb back out of the bed, so I settle for flipping through the pages of my mind.
I think about this trip, work, my parents, if my plants are surviving without me when a sharp pain interrupts me.
I’ve been biting my fingernails again, this time, without even realizing it.
I want to stop but it’s been my anxious companion habit ever since I can remember, getting me through my rough days, moments, and thoughts.
I pull my hand away from my mouth, setting it on the bed next to me, internally chastising myself at my weak mind and lack of self-control.
I’ve been working on finding healthier ways to work through my compulsions.
My therapist wants me to recognize what I’m doing, see that it's harmful and soothe myself with a guided meditation. I downloaded a few, so I always have one on hand, but I haven’t been the best at remembering to use them.
Like any new habit, it takes time and desire.
If I’m honest with myself, I hate meditating.
It feels like a waste of time and it never seems to help my mind stop wandering, but I know it’s about practice so I guess I should try.
I have nothing better to do anyway. I scroll through the few options I have and choose one that’s bedtime themed.
I set the volume low and wiggle around until I find the most comfortable spot on the bed.
I close my eyes, laying my hands on my stomach, feeling myself taking deep breathes along to the music as I try to clear my mind.
As usual, I can’t quiet the incessant thoughts, so instead I try to focus on simply counting my breaths.
It doesn’t take long before I start feeling someone watching me again.
This happens to me a lot when I’m doing these meditations, so I try to work past my temptation to peek.
I already know no one is actually looking at me.
I do this to myself every time I wash my face.
As soon as my eyes are closed, I convince myself a monster or a murderer is lurking in the room with me, but no one ever is.
I hold back until my mind tells me I can’t anymore, until I'm sure when I open my eyes there will be a face mere inches from mine.
I’m already scared, so I only open one eye, trying to test the waters before I commit and like I suspected, I’m alone. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, when out of the corner of my eye, something shifts. I look over quickly, but there’s only the window and a dresser.
Even still, I feel completely spooked and decide I don’t want to be up here alone anymore, so I throw off the covers and climb out of bed to go see when Luke is coming upstairs.
I stop before stepping out of the door; the hallway is completely black, and I could have sworn I left the light on.
I take a deep breath and with all the fake confidence I can muster, I step into the dark.
I speed-walk over to the light switch and flip it.
Just like that, everything feels calmer…
quieter. The darkness in this house feels loud.
The thought makes me wish I had downloaded a nightlight app before we got here.
Once I’m at the stairs, I yell down, “Luke, when are you coming to bed? I don’t like being alone up here.
” All I get in return is silence, so I yell again, “Luke?” He still doesn’t answer me.
I swear that man has the worst ADHD. Who knows what he has gotten himself up to in the time I left him alone.
I trudge down the stairs, feeling incredibly sorry for myself the entire way.
When I get to the kitchen, I don’t see him. “Babe?”
The continual silence scares me a little, so I quicken my pace as I walk through the kitchen to the next room.
Once I’m close enough to look around the doorway, I see Luke standing at one of the windows, looking out into the yard.
He is standing so still I can’t see if he is breathing.
“Luke, what are you doing?” He doesn’t answer me, only continues to stand as stiff as a board.
Slowly, I move closer to him, not wanting to startle him.
His eyes are open, unnaturally wide, and they’re bloodshot like he hasn’t been blinking.
He looks like he’s in pain. I lay my hand on his upper back softly as I quietly ask, “Hey, what’s going on?
” The moment my hand touches him, he startles so hard that I stumble back, alarmed.
He frantically looks around, panting, until his eyes slowly focus on me.
“What happened?” he asks as he blinks the dazed look from his face.
“I… I don’t know. I was calling you and you weren’t answering.
I didn’t know where you were, so I came looking.
When I found you, it was like you were sleepwalking or something.
You were staring out the window into the dark, and you looked…
freaked. What’s going on?” I look down at my hands and realize I’m shaking.
He doesn’t say anything back, so I walk back over to him and wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head on his chest. His arms stay limp and lifeless next to his body, so I hug him tighter, trying to signal him to hold me back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I was dreaming.
I have a vivid memory of myself finishing cleaning up and getting into bed with you.
We spent some time looking at pictures and went to sleep but here I am, still downstairs.
I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what to say.
I’m sorry,” he says, finally wrapping his arms around me.
I listen as his heart starts to slow its wild beating.
“It’s okay, we both got scared so we’re even,” I say lightly, trying to ease the tension as I peek up at him with a small smile that he doesn’t return. He still looks shaken, so I finish with, “We’ve had a long day, and it’s super late so why don’t we go to bed and start fresh tomorrow?”
I don’t wait for him to answer before letting him go and walking to the window to close the curtains.
I hardly want to touch them; they are so dusty and moth-eaten, but I don’t like thinking about Luke looking out into the darkness.
An intrusive thought of what also might have been looking back at him is already picking away at my mind, but it’s something I’m okay with keeping hidden until tomorrow.
I pull the curtains closed, making sure not even a sliver of the window is showing through before going back, grabbing Luke’s hand and guiding him to the stairs.
“Let’s go, babe. I don’t dare leave you alone again.
Who knows what shenanigans you’ll get up to next?
” I tease, still trying to lighten the mood but when I look back all he gives me is a small smile.
It doesn’t quite meet his eyes. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, so I let that be good enough for tonight.
I don’t blame him for being out of it–I, myself, will be replaying what happened in my head all night.
Once we get to the top of the stairs, I add, “Also, we have no hot water. I would let you skip the shower, but you stink, no offense, so good luck and God’s speed.
” I lay one of my hands on his chest, which seems to fully snap him out of his funk because he laughs.
“Oh well, I’m sorry. It’s a lot of work being the chauffeur, house inspector and chef of the family. Plus, shouldn’t you be attracted to my musk?” He winks at me and leans closer.