Wake Me Up ( Home Free )

Chapter Nine

"Tim?" Lou asked as her eyes scanned the hallway from Tim's room. She stepped out in her bare feet and peered around. It was the middle of the night, 1 a.m. according to the clock hidden by the shadows in the hall. She had been sleeping for an hour, that is, if she could recall the time on the clock before she went to bed.

"In here." Came Tim's bass voice from in the living room area. Her head peeked around the corner to see him sitting on the couch, back turned to her, watching the television with a thin blanket laid out over his lap.

"I'm thirsty. Where's the water?" Lou asked as she observed what he was watching. There were old reruns of shows that she remembered watching when she was just a little girl.

"There's a jug of water in the fridge. Beer, too, if you want it." She could hear the slight yawn in Tim's voice followed by a deep breath.

"Alright. Thanks." Lou answered, pleased. With her feet meeting the cold floor of he kitchen, she walked right passed the refrigerator and straight to the kitchen drawers beneath the hardwood counter.

Sliding the drawer open, she searches the holdings of it only to find a few rolls of duct tape, a small screwdriver, and a few odd nails and bolts. Shutting the drawer, she then moves to the next one and opens it to find what she was in search for.

There were forks, spoons, and knives laid out neatly separated in the drawer. She grabbed the largest knife she could find.

"... Lou?" Came Tim's puzzled voice from the living room area. She jumped at the sound of his voice, only for her elbow to smack the drawer. Cutlery clattered together with a sudden and sharp sound.

"Lou?" Tim asked again. Lou cussed sharply under her breath. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, I just tripped." Lou lied in a casual tone. "I was going to ask, did you want something to drink, too?"

Tim, who wasn't sure about her story, furrowed his brow, but kept his eyes on the screen anyway. "Nah." He finally answered, deciding he wasn't thirsty.

Lou quickly slid the knife, handle first, into the waistline of her pants, messily covering the blade with the shirt she was wearing, which was, in fact, one of Tim's old shirts. The old, faded grey shirt was long enough to be a dress on Lou's small frame; and the only reason she agreed to wear it was because her other was was bloodied to the point where Lou didn't even remember what colour it was.

With the redneck bandaid tied around her calf, she limped back to the living room just in time to hear Tim crack up with laughter at a part on the show. Lou's eyes watched the television as she came up behind the couch from the kitchen door.

She watched with him for a while with her arms folded on top of the couch, leaning forward on it casually.

Daddy! Lou heard a voice in her head cry out as her mind slowly started to fade into a daydream. Daddy, don't go!

It was then that she realized that was her own voice. As if playing out right in front of her, she saw a little dark-haired girl being held back by a strong-gripped woman which she recognized as her own mother.

"Louise!" Her mother snapped in her ear. "Don't go near them!"

"But daddy!" The little girl exclaimed through hard sobs and clouded eyes. "Daddy has to come back —"

"Shh!" Her mother demanded in harsh tone that caused the little girl to whimper softly.

"Where..." Lou's voice was quieter now, but was broken by sobs and sniffles. "Where are they taking dad?" Her big blue eyes look back and stare into the dimmed-light of her mother's.

"He'll be back soon, sweetie." Her mother spoke softly with a warmth as assured Lou everything was going to be okay. Being taken into her mother's strong embrace, she hugged her mother tightly.

The sharp cry of a wolf cut through the night air and made the both of them flinch. While her mother fought back the tears, she had to be strong for her trembling child in her arms.

Be strong. That was what her mother taught her.

"Uh, Lou?" Tim asked, breaking her away from the living nightmare. Her eyes turned him, letting him know he had her attention. "Where's your water? And why are you shaking like that?"

Lou took a moment to realize how much she was shaking, quickly putting it to a halt as she drew in a deep breath as if to clear her lungs. "I drank in the kitchen." She lied smoothly, running her fingers through her black hair. "And I'm just a bit cold. Mind if I share that blanket with you?" She asked as an excuse to get as close as she needed to.

Tim's eyes were genuine and seemed to read her like a book, although she felt guilt creep into her at how oblivious he really was. The two deep voids turned away from her and fell to the blanket on his lap. "Sure. Take it." He said and grasped the thin blanket with his and to offer it out to her.

Lou made herself welcome onto the seat next to him, fitting herself into the small space between him and the arm of the couch. Tim rolled his eyes and grunted lazily as he moved over and tossed the blanket onto her lap.

Lou felt the metal of the knife against her skin as she leaned back into the couch, making sure not to lean back too far.

This wasn't working. Not for Lou. She had to get closer to him; and if she was going to do what she planned, she needed to get more than just physically close.

"Hey, Tim?" Lou asked in the most genuine tone she could utter, which was soft as silk and sincere as southern roots.

"Hm?" His voice was barely audible, a quiet hum that rumbled in his chest. 

"... I uh... I'm not a very good at these, but... Thanks for saving me."

To Tim, it sounded forced. Tim gave a vague, but heavy shrug of his shoulders in hopes that she wouldn't feel so awkward, then he would feel less awkward. "Don't mention it, Boo-Boo."

Lou rolled her eyes at him, but she cracked a smile and scooted a bit closer to him. She did it casually, as if she was simply adjusting her position.

It was a few moments before both of them started to nod off. The television was mumbling soft sounds as the TV-lit room flickered with an array of colours.

Lou's eyes fluttered open sleepily as she tried to focus on the screen. Then out of the corner of her, she saw Tim leaned back against the couch with his head lulled to one side.

Her head instantly turned to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest and taking in his sleeping face. A hand quickly reached for the knife in her waistband and slid it out carefully. Lou flipped the knife around so the blade was pointing towards the brown-haired man. 

Her hand was trembling. She had never killed anyone before. How was she going to feel afterwards? Knowing she ended someone's life sounded devastating.

The girl swallowed hard before she neared the tip to the warm skin of his throat. That doesn't matter now, she thought, this needs to be done. 

She could still hear her father's screams echo in the back of her mind her sweaty palm gripped the handle of the knife.

Lou held her breath as she readied and secured her hand around the handle.

Before she could bring the blade down into Tim, there was a loud knocking at the door.