Nightmare in Niceville (3 page)

“Mr. Willons?”

“What?!” he'd shouted.

“Um, is the homework due tomorrow or Thursday?” I asked.

“It's due Friday! Don't you dumb kids listen?!” he screamed. The entire class jumped at his outburst.

“Sorry,” I mumbled quietly and slumped in my seat as he lectured for the rest of class. I hated being yelled at by teachers. It was so embarrassing.

—————

The day was passing quickly, and Emily was waiting for me at the lunch table.

“Hey!” she practically sang in her happy voice.

“Hi!” I tried to mimic her, but it just didn't sound the same.

“So, the movie is called
A Stalker's Greatest Wish
. Sounds creepy, huh?” Emily wiggled her eyebrows at me. I laughed and nudged her with my elbow.

“Oh yeah, I've seen the previews for that. It looked pretty good.” I wasn't into scary movies, but this one did look interesting. It was about a girl who was falling in love with this guy who had been stalking her for a year, and he planned to kill her. Typical scary movie, I guess. The title sounded a little cheesy, and the plot was predictable from the previews, but nonetheless, it looked like it was worth seeing. Plus, Emily wanted to go.

“I know, I can't wait to see it!” Emily exclaimed.

“Me either; it looks awesome,” Rachel chimed in. “Scott, are you going?” she asked.

Scott looked over at her, and then at me. I blushed and looked away.

“I might,” he said.

I was quieter than usual for the rest of lunch. Scott made me so shy sometimes. I knew him from elementary and middle school, and he had always been so nice and friendly. Those qualities were hard to find these days. And he was so muscular and tan and handsome. I snuck another peek at him. Gosh, he was cute. I returned my stare back to my mashed potatoes and fumbled with my hands in my lap. Something about the guy you could never get always made you want him more.

—————

“So, I'll pick you up at eight thirty for the movie tomorrow, right?” Emily asked through the open window of the passenger door.

“Yeah, that'd be great.” Then I mouthed our saying: “Elephant shoes.” It sounds weird, but when you mouthed the words, it looked like you were saying, “I love you.” It made us both crack up.

“Elephant shoes,” Emily blared. I was still laughing when I headed up my driveway and onto the concrete porch. I tried the knob, but it was locked. Weird . . . it was usually open. I dug into my bag and fumbled for the keys. I felt like someone was behind me, just like yesterday. I spun around quickly and scanned the area, but there was only the scene of my peaceful neighborhood. Across the street, Mr. Bannd was mowing his lawn.

I was about to turn back to the door when I heard a twig snap. I fixed my eyes in the direction where the noise came from. A hedge in our yard was quivering slightly. I stepped off the porch and took a few steps toward it. I squinted, trying to see anything hidden in the bush. Suddenly and without warning, a bird flew out of the hedge, chirping frantically. I screamed.

“Lily, are you okay?” Mr. Bannd called from his yard.

“Oh, I'm fine. I was just checking the mail, and a bird scared me,” I said and laughed.

“All righty. Just makin' sure.” He pulled the lawn mower string and went back to mowing.

I huffed and stomped back to the house. Finally finding my keys, I unlocked the door and went in, shaking my head at my behavior lately. I closed the door as quietly as I could and called out, “Hey, Mom! Hey, Ash!”

Nothing but silence.

My heart sped up a little.

“Mom? Ash?” I yelled.

Still no answer.

I walked down the hallway to the kitchen where I would usually smell something cooking and hear Ashley chattering away.

“Hello?” I heard my voice echo back. I stepped all the way into the kitchen and saw a piece of paper and a microwaveable box of lasagna sitting on the counter. I laughed quietly.

Lily,

Sorry we aren't home.
I took Ashley to her dentist appointment.
Be back in a little while!

Love you!
Mom & Ash

P.S. I love you!
Ashley

As I read the note, my heart slowed back down. I smiled at Ashley's part. Her handwriting was messy, but I didn't mind—in fact, I loved it. I shoved the note into the back pocket of my pants. Why was I being so paranoid?
Must be that new mystery book I'm reading,
I thought. I read mysteries a lot, and they always made me a little nervous, but I had never been this jumpy. And the book wasn't even that scary! All of these creepy feelings were weirding me out. Maybe after I finished my book I should switch back to fairy tale-type books.

After heating up the lasagna, I ate it quickly. Even though the movie was tomorrow night, I wanted to finish my chores and homework so nothing would get in the way of my plans. I needed to clean my room and bathroom, sweep the kitchen, do the dishes, and do any laundry. I ran upstairs to check the guest bathroom. It looked good—the toilet and shower were fine—and the sink too. But I took out cleaner and scrubbed the toilet anyway. Ew.

There were a few things scattered on the floor of my room, and I scurried to pick them up. I looked in my hamper, but there were only two shirts. I snatched them up anyway and tucked them under my arm. I scooped up the towels from my bathroom and went downstairs to the laundry room.

After throwing in the laundry, I swept the kitchen floor, then loaded the dishwasher and got it going. I started on my homework at the kitchen table so I would hear when the dishwasher buzzed. I did biology first and got halfway done with math before the dishwasher finished. I unloaded it, then went back to my homework. I had three questions left in history by the time I heard Mom and Ashley walk through the front door.

“. . . and I'm hungry Momma. Why can't I eat?” Ashley whined.

“Because the dentist said not to,” Mom told her patiently. “Lily? Are you home?”

“Yeah,” I called back.

“Yay, Lily!” Ashley cried with joy. She ran into the kitchen and scrambled into my lap.

I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her. “Hey, squirt!”

“What'cha doin'?” she asked.

“Homework,” I answered.

“What kind of homework?” she asked.

“Just some boring old history,” I told her.

“Oh okay,” she said and hopped off my lap. She walked over to Mom and said, “Lily is doin' history, Momma.”

“Is that so?” Mom said and bent down to kiss Ashley on her forehead.

“Not anymore,” I told them. I shoved my books back into my bag. “I'm done with my chores and homework.”

“Oh good. Would you like to help me heat up leftovers for me and Ashley?” she replied.

“Yay food!” Ashley called from behind us before I could reply. I smiled at Mom and she chuckled.

“Can I go to Emily's after the movie Saturday?” I asked while washing my hands in the kitchen sink.

“That's fine with me,” she answered.

“Thanks! The movie is called
A Stalker's Greatest Wish
. It sounds creepy, I know, but it should be fun.”

“I hate scary movies,” Mom said.

“I know, Mom.” I laughed as I headed to the fridge to look for leftovers. There wasn't much left in the Tupperware, which was probably why Mom left lasagna out for me. She was always thinking of little things like that.

—————

After they finished eating, I got the bath ready for Ashley. I plugged the drain and adjusted the water temperature, then dumped bubbles in the water. Ashley took a long bath, playing with almost all of her toys, which was a lot. She had to make up a game for each individual toy. After her bath, I tucked her in bed and read her a story. By the last page, she was out cold. I wished I could fall asleep that fast.

As I walked down the hall to my room, someone grabbed my shoulders. I yelped and jumped, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Shhh!” my mother said.

“Oh my gosh, Mom. You gave me a heart attack!” I said, laughing.

“Sorry honey . . . is Ashley already asleep?” she asked.

“Yeah, I read her a story.”

“Okay good.”

“Goodnight, Mom, love you,” I said hugging her.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” She hugged me back, squeezing me to her. She kissed me on the forehead, just like she did every night, and went back down stairs.

I laid out my outfit for work the next day. Then I grabbed my mystery/thriller book, plopped on my bed, and started reading. After some time, my eyes felt heavy, and I had a hard time keeping them open. And just as I felt myself dozing, my head slipped sideways onto the pillow, and I saw a dark figure crouching in the rhododendron bush on my front lawn. I couldn't see the face, but somehow I knew it was smiling.

I jolted awake. A warm breeze brushed my cheek through my window. I didn't remember opening it. Had Mom opened it? That seemed likely; she loved the breeze coming through the house.

What was wrong with me?
My heart was still pounding from the dream. I plucked the book off my chest like it was a foul creature and threw it aside. Maybe I would take a break from the book altogether. It was still dark outside. I squinted into the shadows and saw no figure there. The image still haunted me as I fell in and out of sleep. Tossing and turning, I finally caved in to the darkness of sleep.

And in my dreams, I thought I heard a man's voice whisper my name over and over again, “Lily . . .”

3

A Man

“L
ily . . .” I whispered.

I crouched under a tree and sat down, holding the tree for support so I wouldn't fling myself toward the house and give myself away. The grass was moist with dew. The full moon was huge this evening, and I felt like howling at that glowing circle in the sky like a lonely wolf.

Ahh, Niceville. What a pleasant little town that I was about to alter forever. I bet the only interesting thing that happened here were drunken college kids getting arrested for disorderly conduct. It seemed like that type of place, but I would fix that.

I saw Lily today. She almost saw me, but I quickly ran off while she was fumbling with the keys to her front door. Yes, the door should be locked to keep the wolves away.

After she went inside, I strolled the streets with a skip in my step from the excitement of being within reach. I meandered downtown and familiarized myself with the quaint little village. I sat on benches and watched people walk—women with strollers and their precious bundles of joy, men walking their peppy dogs, loving couples jogging. I breathed in the fresh air. It felt good to be alive. And free. And so close to the girls,
my
girls.

It had been two months since my release from Florida State Prison. I had served sixteen of my twenty-five year sentence. I got off early for good behavior. I'd kept my head down, never talked back, and never fought with anyone. I played the “changed man lookin' to be free” role, and it had paid off in the end. They handed me what I went in with—a pair of dirty jeans, a ratty, stained t-shirt, a pair of torn-up sneakers, and ninety-three dollars and forty-two cents to my name. The clothing barely fit anymore; I had gained some muscle and lost some fat while in prison. The money had bought me some items off McDonald's dollar menu, a pair of sneakers at Wal-Mart, some colored contacts, and some hair dye.

I thought back to my days in prison, though it wasn't that long ago. But I would never forget that
one
day . . . the day when all of this had seemed possible.

I had dropped my food tray on the scratched metal table, then sat down, gritting my teeth. My cellmate slumped next to me. The food had never been very appetizing, but it was the usual greenish-gray-colored soup, or the slimy and gritty “pasta.” The bland food, the dirty white clothes, the dull white walls, and the gray . . . it all made me want to rip my hair out.

“You know, I've always envied your hair color,” I said to my cellmate.

“You know, you're kind of a freak. And I mean that in a good and bad way. We're all crazy in here, right?” he chuckled darkly. My cellmate was always clean-shaven, and he'd made sure to keep his reputation clean. He was on his best behavior since his release date was coming up in three months, just like me. We, well I, was getting out of this living hell, and I had some
major
things planned.

“Indeed . . . do you remember when I told you about my Mackenzie, Sophie, and my precious Josie?” I had asked.

“Yeah,” he grumbled.

“Well, their deaths remind me of your story. Cruel fate took my wife. And then I took my girls—I had killed them—but they remind me of how you tried to kill Lily and Ashley . . . and failed. Don't you want retribution? I know I would.”

“I don't know what the hell you mean,” he snapped.

“Don't you want to finish what you started? I don't know how you stand it.”

“No, I've gotten over the past. I'm just trying to pass the time until I'm out of this hellhole. Maybe you should do the same . . . and stop bringing up my past! It's getting old real quick,” he said as he shoved flavorless mush into his mouth.

“You know, I've always wanted green eyes.”

He slowly turned his head to stare at me.

If only he knew what was coming.

I stared at the lumpy mashed potatoes on my plate. I threw my food out, disgusted, and headed toward my cell. Suddenly, Josie's face had flashed into my mind without my permission. She was always doing that, pushing her way into my thoughts. I had to stop and regain my balance. I needed to get out of here before Josie killed me with her haunting memories. Then another image hit me.

“Josie . . . don't leave me,” I sputtered.

“Don't . . . worry . . . about me. Just . . . take care . . . of the girls,” Josie whispered between short raspy breaths. Seeing her on the old bed in the guest room, with blood-spattered sheets and pillows, ripped my soul from the inside out. Josie was my world, my love. She coughed, and it sounded so wet, so full of her blood. She rolled onto her side and was violently sick into the little bin by the bed. Everything was red. She rolled onto her back again and closed her eyes, breathing heavily.