“What are you doing with Dad’s phone? If he comes looking for it, he’ll find you in here and won’t let you stay.”
The innocence on her face as she stares up, all wide-eyed, takes me to my knees. In a rush of movements, I pull back the phone before she can read my message asking what the fuck happened to leave Mom and Dad like that in the hallway and type another, fingers flying over the phone as the sound of sirens grows louder in the distance.
I turn it to her, allowing her to read it at a distance that’ll be comfortable on her eyes.
Daddy:
We have to leave now.
“What? Where? Why? It’s the middle of the night.” Her eyes fly to the pink clock on her bedside table. It’s obnoxious round screen, different from all the mini ones Mom collects and stores in her room.
Without waiting for more delays, I pull Dollie from the bed, not granting a single answer. Dragging her into the hallway, she freezes in her doorway as I stand under glowing lights.
“Why are you covered in blood? Are you okay?” Her hands start patting me down.
It’s not mine.
Hand in hand, I pull her into the light and take her knuckles to my mouth.
I don’t know what happened,I sign.But we have to leave. Run with me?
“Okay. But is someone hurt?”
I glance over her shoulder at the window where moonlight peeks in. The sirens are getting closer and closer.
We need to get out of this house.
I pull her through the hallway—the fastest route, weaving us around our parents and the bloodstains.
The deadlock of her feet stops us both, even as I try to pull her away.
“Oh, my god! Oh, my god! What happened to Mom and Dad?”
She yanks free from me, her hand rushing to the pulse point on Dad’s throat.
A heart-cracking sob falls through her lips when no gentle pat reaches her fingertips.
Her small fingers tilt his head, her hands rushing to his chest, pounding up and down in spaced compressions. She breathes air into his mouth once before her head collapses to his unmoving chest.
No heartbeat.
He’s gone, Dollie.She doesn’t look my way to see moving hands.
“He’s so cold. He needs a blanket.”
Her eyes move to me, tears streaming from her blue pools.
I don’t move to get him one. I still on her, all her pained cries and emotions wrapping around me, making it difficult to move.
Her head snaps to Mom, who I’d propped gently against the doorframe.
The gaping gash on display, so much blood on her pajamas. Still on my face, when Dollie looks back at me.
“Ambrose...”
I think it was a psychotic break.I meet her eyes.And everything went black.
Everything went black… I use that sentence because she’s used it with me many times before. Explaining the shadows or the monster in her room and the panic that resulted in her favorite possessions being smashed, and me regluing them all.
