Gone with an Angel

Chapter Nine:

Today was the day I had to return home, and get what I needed. I saw this as moving out. James told me I can stay at his house, and I just had to gather the few belongings I did own. There would be no reason to go back "home."

I crawled out of bed, fixed myself up as much as I could without taking an hour, and left towards the kitchen where I assumed James would be waiting. Fortunately, he was. He motioned towards the pop-tart and milk already resting on the table. So, I took my seat in front of it and started eating.

"So whmphs the phlm?" I mumbled because I had attempted to talk with a mouth full of chocolate fudge pop-tart.

James just raised his eyebrows until I managed to swallow and continue. "So what's the plan?"

"Kris, are you sure you can do this, no matter what?"

I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Do you plan on going back, ever?" He continued.

I shook my head 'no,' and he just nodded.

"So, what's stopping you from calling the cops? After you get your belongings, there's nothing your dad can do if you're not there. You know he won't come after you. You know there's nothing more he can take. So, I think, it's just time we hand this over to the police."

I paused, thinking this over. He was right of course, but something just felt off. I did want him to be caught though. No more pain, hurt, nothing more could be taken from me. "Okay..." I started, knowing he had more to say.

"We'll leave there soon, I'm not sure if he's home or not, I haven't checked. I'll follow you inside, and I'll have my cell phone. You go to your room, get what you need to, and we'll leave. If something happens, scream, and I'll call the cops. I'll stay unseen so he doesn't know I'm there. If you don't encounter him, then we'll call the cops once we're in the safety of our house. 'Kay?"

I smiled at the 'our house' thing. It was nice to have a house that I was not scared to come home to. My stomach flipped in nervousness also. This was it; the breaking point. I nodded once again, and he reached across the table to grab my hand. I glanced up and looked into those sparkling eyes, and he said "It'll be okay, Kris, I'll make sure of it." and then he smiled that irresistible smile and we got up to leave. He handed me a big bag to carry the items I get, and we started off on the short walk to my father’s house.

I felt my legs slowing the closer we get to the house, like I was walking through molasses. I could move faster, but at the same time I couldn't. My legs were slowed by fear. James held my hand the whole way. When we reached the front door, he turned to me and looked, raising his eyebrows to say "are you ready?"I quickly nodded and slowly pulled the door open.

A book shelf lay on the floor, torn down from the wall. A few old pictures were lying randomly across the floor, while the kitchen remained the disaster it was when I left it. My father’s room door was cracked open, but it was dark so I couldn't see inside. I cautiously took light footsteps towards my room, only glancing back to see James ducking beside the door, seemingly hidden behind an enclave of the wall. He pointed to the phone and I continued towards my room.

Everything is still intact, and I didn't stop to wonder. I just went to my closet, pulled out all of my clothes, which wasn't much. Just three pairs of jeans, a couple shirts, and the necessities. I went to the bedside table and grabbed the half-empty perfume bottle, deodorant, and hair brush. Just as I was going around the room, picking up any last things I need, I felt a presence.  As if someone was watching. The hairs on my body stood on end and my body was electrified by fear. I turned to see my father slumped against the small doorway, knife in hand. It looked very similar to the knife he had in my dream.

Neither of us moved, we just stood there staring. It was like the face off we had when he killed my mother.

"What're you doing?" He slurred a result of his daily drinking.

I froze. No answer would satisfy him. He was Hell bent on what he wanted to do, nothing would change that. I knew, as he raised his knife and approached me.

If something happened, scream, and I'll call the cops, I remember James saying. So he must not have seen my father stealthily creep to my room.

I could have been cut to bits by the time the cops got here, but I guessed I should try anyways.

I opened my mouth and release an ear piercing, window shattering, scream, and backed up against the wall for any safety I can get.

He stepped towards me, knife poised, as I stepped back, trying to find refuge, when something happened. I felt arms around me, wrapping tight, but not harmfully. Comfortingly. That was the last memory, my father's eyes widening in fear, my strange immediate peace, and then the world went black.