Discombobulate

Chapter Twenty-Six

Denise paused for a second. "I ran into Sheriff Winston at Opal's. They're exhuming my sister and my mom on Friday. That's good because now they can perform autopsies. I'm not sure how I'll handle it; that's the bad news. I buried them thinking they'd be in the ground forever. I feel like I have to tell them goodbye again."

Her voice cracked while she tried to continue. "The first time was bad, it was difficult. I feel like I have to do it again and I don't want to. I know it seems selfish because this can change the course of the case."

"They might find the killer and that's all I've wanted for the past three months. When they go back into the ground, that's that. They'll never come out again. That will be the end of Susan and Jennifer Houghton."

Denise shook her head and her eyes left the camera lens. "We bury the bodies of our loved ones in caskets. We put their ashes in urns or scatter them somewhere. We shove them under six feet of dirt. We never physically see them again."

"I have photographs, videos, and memories of my family. I still see them in my dreams. Physically, I will never see them again. I'll get to see their caskets, but they'll be under the lid. I guess it's sinking in that they're never going to come back."

Denise blinked back tears. "I've been trying to remember their facial features without looking at a photograph. I'll hold on to all the memories for as long as I can. I will never forget the treasured memories, but small details will fade away with time. Eventually, I'll start to forget as time goes on." 

"I'll forget the sharp curve of my mom's nose. The left corner of Jennifer's mouth that turned up first when she smiled. My mom's right eyebrow that drooped a little lower than the left one. I'll forget the exact shade of blonde hair my mom had. Without the recordings I have, I'll forget what they sound like."

Snot trickled down her nose. She sniffled and brushed away a tear. "I don't want to forget them. I don't want to forget anything about them."

Denise went silent for a few minutes. She flipped through memories of her family in her head. Enough time had passed since her dad died, she had healed from it. Her mom and sister were another story. There was a gaping open wound that was still raw. It didn't have enough time to heal.

"Andy asked me to move in with her. She's located in upper Kansas somewhere. I hated that idea, but maybe she was on to something. I'm starting to think I need to leave Brimington. Maybe this will be a proper farewell. Perhaps this is what I ne-"

Someone darted past the open bedroom door.

Denise snapped her head to the side with wide eyes.

Someone is in the cabin.

She turned back to her bed. An empty brown glass bottle stood on the nightstand. She had been drinking root beer earlier. If she was lucky, she could knock someone out with it. If they weren't knocked out, it would throw them off guard.

She grabbed her camera with one hand and grabbed the bottle with the other opened hand. A chill slithered down her spine.

Who was inside? What did they want? Why didn't she not hear them come in? How long had they been in the cabin? Did they pick one of the locks?

She closed her bedroom door behind her. Dupe would be safe that way. Whoever it was, they headed towards the bathroom. She held the bottle upside down in her right hand. Her arm was above her head. She was prepared to swing at any sign of movement.

The camera recorded in her left hand. It slightly shook when she spoke. "Hello? Is anybody there?"

Nobody responded.

She could hear her heart thumping in her chest. It sounded like a jackhammer. She swore the intruder could hear it too.

"I have a weapon and I'm not afraid to use it!" Her voice wobbled,"don't make me hurt you!"

No response.

Her fingers had turned white around the glass bottle's neck. The sweat from her fingertips made it difficult to keep a hold of. She was afraid she'd swing and it'd slip out of her hand. She'd be defenseless unless she used the camera as a weapon.

She crept to the bathroom. The door was open like it always was. There was no movement in the darkness. One foot in front of the other. Step by step, inch by inch, she made her way into the bathroom. She flicked the light on.

The orange shower curtain was pushed back. The small square room was empty. The cabinets under the sink were too small for someone to be hiding in. She could see everything perfectly from the door.

She turned the camera towards herself. "I swore I just saw someone run this way. There's nobody in here. I think they ran back to the opposite side of the house while I was grabbing the root beer bottle."

She turned the camera back around. A small flicker of courage appeared inside of her. She'd look in the living room and then the kitchen. Those were the only other places an intruder could be.

The cabin was a simple one-story building. One bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. There wasn't a second level or a basement. There was a small section in the hallway cut out. The washer and dryer sat there.

One sliding door sat at the far end of the living room. The front door was on the other end of the living room. The kitchen and living room didn't have a wall to separate them. They connected through a large opening.

Much to Denise's dismay, both rooms were empty. The living room lamp had been left on. The only movement was her shadow. Everything else was just as she left it.

She double-checked the lower kitchen cabinets. She glanced around the bar counter multiple times. She even moved the couch to make sure nobody was under it. The cabin was completely empty.

Within two minutes, the cabin was alive. The bright yellow lights stood out against the night. The place glowed like the night sky on the fourth of July. Every room was bursting with light.

The main living room light had been turned on. The kitchen lights above the sink had been turned on. The bathroom light, Denise's bedroom light, and another lamp in the living room had also been turned on.

She placed the camera on the bar counter and stood back. Her eyes had never left their widened state. A few pieces of blonde hair had fallen out of her low bun. A piece stuck to her forehead. She turned around to glance behind her again before looking back at the camera.

The root beer bottle hadn't left her hands. She clutch onto it like it was the only thing that could save her. She took a deep breath before she began to speak.

"Someone ran by my bedroom door while I was talking. It was a dark figure. It was a person, but it was a black silhouette. It looked like a shadow person. I've looked through the cabin and turned on all the lights. Nobody is in here. Both doors are still locked."

"That brings me to my next point. If nobody is in here, that means I imagined it. I've been awake for so long, my mind is starting to create things."

She let out a nervous laugh before going silent again. "On one hand, it's great that it wasn't a real person. On the other hand, it's bad. It means the hallucinations are starting."

Her eyes met the center of the lens. "This means they could happen again. They could happen more often. I'll update you as they occur. I don't want to forget anything."

She walked towards the camera and stopped filming. Her head buzzed with worried thoughts. She left one sentence unspoken. She was too afraid to say the words out loud.

The longer she stayed awake, the more she deprived her brain of much-needed sleep. Her hallucinations would only get worse from here on out. She was performing this without supervision. Nobody was there to clarify what was real and what was fake.

How long could she go before the line between fact and fiction became blurred?