Chapter 12: Silent Night, Scary Night

I woke suddenly – jerking upright in my bed. Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but something was definitely wrong. I sat there with my heart pounding in my chest. Peering through the darkness of my room I saw no movement. Nothing!

I listened intently – straining to hear the quietest sound. I could hear the soft whisper of Tara’s breathing from where she lay sleeping on my floor. I could hear the frantic thumping of my heart. Apart from that, nothing. I slipped out of bed and crept over to my window – locked. Outside the window all was dark and still.

I picked up my robe and wrapped it around me – tying the belt tightly so that the robe wouldn’t flap and get in my way. I skirted carefully around Tara – not wanting to kick her, or trip over her in the darkness. I could sense her lying on the floor – completely still but for her soft breathing. A motionless, shapeless lump under her comforter.

I tiptoed over to my door and opened it as quietly as I could. I peered carefully up and down the hallway. It was empty and silent. I could hear the distant whine of the fridge but apart from that, nothing. But something was wrong.

TV is a wonderful thing. Watching too many police dramas teaches you how to peer around corners, slide along walls, walk without noise.

TV is also a terrible thing. Watching too many police dramas teaches you how many bad things can happen in the middle of the night while everyone is sleeping.

Something was wrong and my instincts screamed at me to hide. But hiding wasn’t an option – not if my family was in danger. My first problem was that I had no clue what the danger was. Maybe it was fire. I sniffed the air – searching for any smell of smoke. Nothing!

Heart still pounding, I crept along the hallway and into the kitchen. It was dark but not pitch black. Light spilling from the microwave clock let me see that the room was empty.

What if those two creeps who tried to break into our house had come back? I glided on silent feet to the counter and slid a knife out of the knife-block.

The fridge muttered and groaned. I put my finger to my lips and glared at it. Shhh! I slid into the laundry and checked the back door – closed and locked.

Doubling back through the kitchen, I followed my pointing knife to the front door – also closed and locked. The living room – empty and still. Back in the kitchen I hesitated. Then I turned and crept down the hallway past the bathroom to Angie’s room.

Her bed was empty!

A shiver of panic ran through me. I looked frantically around the room. Nothing was out of place. I looked back at the bed. It was untidy – unmade. The blankets were thrown back leaving crumpled sheets exposed. Lucy the doll sat propped against the pillow and stared back at me with sad eyes.

“What is it, Lucy? What’s wrong?” I whispered – as quiet as a breath.

She said nothing. Whatever she knew, she kept it to herself.

I checked the window – closed and locked. I checked the closet – nothing out of place.

I wanted to run to The Parents’ room and check if Angie was there. It was the most logical explanation. But I stopped myself. While I was at this end of the house, I should check on Dan.

His door was slightly ajar. I pushed and it swung quietly open. I peered in. I could hear Dan’s heavy breathing from the doorway. It was steady and regular. I crept on silent feet over to his bed. I stood there, looking down at his sleeping face. I wondered if I should wake him. I decided not to. I was starting to think it was all in my head. I would finish checking the house but there was no need to start a panic if it was just me being silly.

I put Dan’s door back the way I found it and returned to the kitchen. I was still being quiet but I wasn’t being so cautious. I was starting to think it was only my stupid brain playing tricks on me – making me nervous and worried about nothing.

Just before I entered the kitchen I stopped myself. I bit my lip and looked around. Inside my head, little Bec was kicking herself for relaxing too soon. In all the movies, it’s right when everyone has relaxed that the bad guy or the monster or whatever jumps out and scares the living daylights out of everyone. I wasn’t going to get caught that way.

I stayed frozen in place and listened – my eyes darting frantically around. I even remembered to look up in case there was some monster alien creature clinging to the ceiling – waiting to drop onto me as I walked past. It might have been ready to bite off the top of my head so that it could suck my brains out.

There wasn’t any alien creature clinging to the ceiling.

I was kind of glad I remembered to look, though.

I wondered what my brain would taste like to a brain-sucking alien. Would it taste different from everyone else’s brains?

After some time standing frozen in place, I realized that breathing was a good idea. When I had resumed breathing, I figured out that I wasn’t actually achieving anything by standing perfectly still in the hallway.

Nothing was happening. Nothing was going to happen. I was being silly. I was scaring myself with crazy thoughts.

Even though I was mostly convinced that nothing was wrong, I decided to keep being cautious for a little while longer. It was too early to relax.

I peered carefully into the kitchen before entering. It was still empty and quiet – except for the fridge. I crossed the kitchen and slid down the hallway. I made it as far as Tara’s room and stopped. Her room should be empty – and it was. Her window should be closed and locked – and it was.

Back to my room. Tara still slept on the floor.

I stopped outside The Parents’ room and looked down at the knife in my hand. If either of them was awake and they saw me coming into the room with that, who knows what they would think. But I didn’t want to put it down. I wasn’t completely and totally sure that everything was okay. And until I was completely and totally sure, I wanted to hold onto the knife.

I reversed the knife and gripped the handle so that the blade was hidden against my arm. Then I carefully opened the door and peered inside. The room was dark and still. Light seeped through the curtains from the streetlights outside.

Breath sighed out through my lips. Tension drained from my body. The bed was occupied – by the right people, I mean.

I slipped into the room and moved to stand at the bottom of the bed. Mum and Dad were both there, fast asleep. Lying at an angle between them was Angie. Her head was on Dad’s arm and her feet against Mum’s side. Angie was forming the diagonal part of a capital N. Mum lay on her back near the edge of the bed as if she’d started off closer to Dad but had rolled away from Angie’s kicking feet. Dad lay on his side with his face only inches from Angie’s. His face was calm and relaxed in sleep. Angie looked like a little angel with her hair loose and scattered around her like a halo. Every time Dad breathed out, his breath made strands of Angie’s hair flutter. It was like tiny pixies were playing multiple games of jump rope.

I felt a twinge of jealousy. Angie was getting to sleep with The Parents in a way that I never did. It was a little twinge in my heart but then it went away. Angie is my sister and I love her. I would give her the world if I could. No way would I deny her such a simple thing.

I don’t know how long I stood there – watching them sleep. Simply being there drained away the last faint echoes of worry. It made me feel good. It made me feel warm and safe. It made me feel calm.

An ache in my belly intruded. Standing there had made me feel hungry, too. It was time for a quick raid on the fridge. A midnight snack would fix the grumbling tummy.

I was about to step back from the bed and make my escape when I noticed something. Nobody had moved on the bed but Mum’s eyes were open. She lay there, quiet and still. Watching me as I stood at the bottom of the bed. I don’t know what she was thinking. Her face was still. It was like she was waiting – waiting for me to speak – waiting for me to act.

I didn’t do anything different. I didn’t speak or wave or smile. I stepped back, turned and left.

I switched on the kitchen light and blinked a couple of times until my eyes adjusted to the sudden glare. I returned the knife to its place and went to the bathroom. I carefully washed my hands with plenty of soap – scrubbing thoroughly to remove any last traces of dirt. I dried my hands and returned to the kitchen.

The fridge burbled at me as I opened it. There were choices – so many choices. I settled on some slices of leftover turkey and homemade cranberry sauce. There was some fairly fresh bread as well, so I had all I needed for a turkey sandwich. It didn’t take very long before I had a sandwich sitting on a plate. I picked out the same sharp knife as before and carefully sliced the sandwich – once lengthways and twice crossways to make six little sandwich fingers. I wiped the knife clean and put it back in its place. Then I picked up my plate and headed for the table.