Abnormal

Chapter Two

It’s been two days since Dylan’s funeral and I have been extremely bored.                                 Nothing exciting has happened at the police station and Bryan hasn’t bothered me.

I wrote in my journal every day. It contained every case, every crush and no one is allowed to look in it but me… and Bryan I thought with a sigh. No doubt he knew everything. He’s probably reading it now. My email dings in conformation of my thought. I opened the tab and read it.

 Have you checked the police reports lately?

-B

No return address of course. I opened the police report tab and refreshed it. I had snitched the security password a while ago and always have the website up. I don’t have to worry about my parents seeing it because they trust me, their mistake.  As I read the most recent report my stomach flip-floped.

Bryan Davis, 20 was found dead in the basement of policeman Edward Peirce’s home Thursday at 11:18am.

That’s all it said and that’s all I need to know. My dad is Edward Peirce. I flung open my bedroom door and raced downstairs. The front door was open and a laptop was sitting on the kitchen counter that wasn’t ours. Bryan was here in the basement, dead? I didn’t think so. But I might as well find out. I shut the front door and started down the basement stairs with a knife I had grabbed in the kitchen. Being a policeman’s daughter I knew how to protect myself. I didn’t like our basement, it was dark, cold, and we had an old coal converted furnace was from the 40’s so it was huge and creepy. As a child it reminded of a giant octopus with different arms conducting air to different parts of the house. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and tried to see him but it was too dark. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet but I decided not to let him know that.

“Morning” I heard him say.

I decide to cut straight to the point. “What do you want?”

“Just to chat, I was getting rather lonely.” He laughed “JK I have tons of friends. Actually I have party tonight at Sasha Silver’s house. She’s like you. “

“Different?”

“No. Pretty.”

I raised my knife in a defensive gesture and glared at him.

“Ooh, Some fire and a knife,” He got out of his chair “I was starting to get rather disappointed with you. But you got me.” He said in a sing-song voice as he started circling me. I meet his piercing gray eyes with my dark blue ones. I held my defensive position and followed him as he circled.

“Do you know what abnormal means Laurel?” Hearing him say my name sends shivers up my spine and I remained silent.  “Oh, Come on I know you do.”

 I sighed “Not normal, standard or usual: also, extremely large” I didn’t like giving him what he wanted but it was the easiest way to speed things along.

“Good girl, now do you know why I ask? Abnormal was the single word printed on a piece of paper stuffed in Dylan’s mouth after he was killed. I should know I put it there.” I was taken aback and froze.  

“You killed him?”

 “No you were right doll; it was the ex-girlfriend. But, you see, she owed me a favor. Dylan was like you, in fact there’s a couple people like you. That’s why he had to be exterminated like the pest he was. Your kind spoils all the fun!” He tried to come closer but I didn’t move my knife. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You made your move a while ago when you decided to embrace your abnormal-ness, now it’s my turn.”

I know he was trying to be threatening but it wasn’t working because I was too distracted by his attractiveness, my mistake.  In one swift movement he grabbed my wrist, pinned it behind my back, and took my knife. I panicked and grabbed the nearest object, a plush Christmas snow man, yeah, big help. I threw it and he ducked chuckling as he pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and lunged toward me covering my mouth. At first I fought it but then I started to relax as I lost all conciseness and hit the floor. 

When I woke up I was in a bedroom probably a woman’s. She sure liked roses they were printed everywhere, and was lying on a twin size rose printed bedspread. I sat up and a massive wave of nausea hit me. I ran to a small trash can by the white desk beside the door and empty my stomach. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table and I take a huge gulp, think twice and spit it back in the glass. Who knows what he put in there? The guy’s a wacko.

I take a deep breath to calm myself and survey the room. If I stand at the door to my left is a white desk with a mini fridge and a cup of pens sitting on top with a white wooden desk chair, probably vintage. To my right is the closet door, I open it but its empty. To the left of the closet is an oak dresser. The north wall holds a window overlooking a side yard and a huge maple tree. Next to that is a red side table with a rose printed lamp, a box of tissues and the glass of water. Then there’s the bed I was laid out on against the west wall.

 I need to get clever but my mind is still foggy from the anesthetic he used. I try to go off of what people have done in movies and grab the wooden desk chair to brace against the door. I start searching for something, anything to protect myself with. Whatever he has planned I need to be ready. As I root through the desk drawers I find a box of Q-tips, Nail polish, some stationary nothing I can protect myself with so I check in the mini fridge on top the desk. But what I find there makes my blood run cold, human body parts. Fingers, eyes, toes, a hand and a foot all kept in various containers. I slam the fridge door shut as bile rises in my throat for the second time today.

I ran to the window and try to throw it open but it’s locked, surprise, surprise. I put my back to the window taking deep full breaths and sink to the floor pulling my knees to my chest. That’s when I see it, tendrils of vapor reaching towards me like withered hands. It smelled wonderful and soothed my stomach so I took a deep breath. Roses, just like the rest of the room. But there was something weird about this vapor, it was making me drowsy. Another anesthetic, I should have known. I had to fight it. I grip the dresser as I begin to grow weaker. My eyelids started to close and I began to fall. But I didn’t hit the ground. I am surrounded by darkness and it consumes me. I am never landing always falling in a living hell.

When I come to my mind is foggy, my mouth is dry and I have a pounding headache. I sit up and realize I’m back in my room as a wave of nausea hits me. I stumble into the bathroom across the hall, collapse in front of the toilet and empty my stomach, again. My hands shake and my vision is blurred and shifty. I fumble with the faucet as I try to turn on the water to rinse out my mouth. After rinsing I shakily grapple for my toothbrush and the toothpaste. I fumble with the toothpaste cap and when I finally get it open I try to squeeze a tiny bit onto my tooth brush but instead I end up squeezing the whole bottle on my hand and with a jerk, onto my arm.

 In a fit of rage I slam my fist into the bathroom mirror and it shatters. Pieces of glass cut into my hand and wrist. I stumble back in confusion as warm blood oozes down my arm. Rage over toothpaste? What’s wrong with me? I can’t remember how I got this way and I feel detached from reality. Panic is nipping at my heels as I run into my bedroom slamming, and then locking the door behind me. The panic has taken over me and before I have realize what I’m doing I topple my computer chair and smash my desk plant onto my carpet.

I collapse on the floor, pulling at my hair and try to make sense of it all. I start with the basics; my name is Laurel I am seventeen years old and its summer 2014. But at the moment that’s all I can remember. Another wave of nausea hits me and I throw up on the carpet next to me. Am I going crazy? Where are Mom and Dad? I answer the former question when I start laughing, giggling at first and then full-out hysterics. I suddenly find this all quite funny. I must look hilarious with my knotted hair, blood stained, toothpaste covered arms, clothes and dirt streaked pants. Not to mention the barf next to me. Yup, I’m crazy and this is how I act for about an hour. I go through a violent pattern of rage, panic, and hysterical happiness.

Hey guys, here's the next chapter, enjoy! Don't forget to comment your thoughts!

xo Laura