“Bye honey! Remember that the pizza will arrive shortly.” My mother calls out as she walks to the car. She is wearing a light cotton dress and my father is wearing jeans and a blazer. I wave and shut the door. I watch them get into the truck and keep doing so until I know they are gone for sure. I can hear sounds coming from below me—something scraping against something.
I check and see if the key is in the jar—just as I suspected. He took it and I now believe I made a good decision in making a replica. If I didn’t I would just be sitting here wondering. I wait for the pizza to arrive and when it does I sit at the table and eat two pieces. I am ready to go downstairs and see the animal.
I don’t know why but I start running in place and up and down the stairs. I do at least twenty jumping-jacks until I feel I am ready to go downstairs. Before I can even jam my key into the lock—the doorbell rings. The freaking doorbell! I groan and head for the front door. I slip my key into my hoodie pocket. I am surprised when I see Nick standing on my steps.
“What are you doing here?” I ask trying to sound calm. My nerves are killing me. I need to be down in that basement. Nick just looks at me.
“You left so quickly last night. What happened?” Did he drive ten minutes over here to ask that question? He could have called—or was he spying on me? I sigh and let him in. I offer Nick pizza and he takes three pieces. While he is eating I tell him about Amanda and what she tried to do to me and Phoebe. Nick isn’t shocked but he was when she was crying to him about me pouring beer all over her.
“She is ridiculous. I don’t understand why she is a bully all the time.” Nick says and I eye him.
“And your not?” I challenge. I always see Nick picking on underclassmen and this one kid Mark. He was basically the male equivalent to Phoebe—super smart.
“Okay well I don’t and won’t ever go as far as Amanda.” I roll my eyes.
“Oh and I know you only invited me to your party because my parents wanted me out of the house.” I say and Nick does not deny this. He looks guilty.
“I did want to invite you. That was just a coincidence that my father asked.” He says to me but I am not fully buying it. Nick hasn’t said more then maybe ten words to me in seven years—until now. Why the change? It had to be because my parents asked him to—because they didn’t want me to see the wolf.
“Sure it was. Are you going to leave now that you have an explanation?” I ask and he shrugs his shoulders.
“I dunno. I guess if you don’t want me here.” He eyes me and I smirk. Nick isn’t stupid.
“Well I kind of don’t. I have business to take care of.” I say and he gives me a questioning look but I don’t elaborate farther.
“Fine. But I’m not done with you.” I pause and what he says just seems like he knows something. Something I don’t know but I probably want to know.
“Bye.” I say sweetly and he finally leaves. I wiggle my hands and shake them before I take the key out. I lock the front door and the back—don’t want anyone sneaking up on me. I have a feeling that my father is having someone look out for me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid—like go to the basement. I go upstairs and turn on my bedroom light and then sneak through the kitchen in the darkness. I get to the mud room and slowly stick the key in the lock.
I turn it and the lock clicks. The door becomes ajar and I can feel a cold draft. I hug myself for warmth and step in. I lock the door from the outside because if someone looks in through the window I don’t want them to see the door open—call me paranoid. I venture down the steps. The stairs seem long and menacing. It’s so dark and I want to turn around but there is a dim light on below so I keep going. At the last step my eyes are still adjusting but I can make out the cage—I don’t see the wolf in there. Maybe my father wasn’t lying? Well the part about it not being in the basement—then I think that the wolf got loose. I hold the knife that’s in my hand tightly.
It isn’t until my eyes fully adjust to the dim light that the place looks familiar. I have never been down here but there was this familiar feeling about it. I have seen this place before but when? I walk farther in and I can hear that metal scraping noise again. I shine my horrible phone light in the direction of the sound. What I see horrifies me. I drop my phone and back up into the wall. I feel like the walls are closing in and I can’t breathe. It’s not a wolf at all—it’s a boy—a teenage boy. He is sitting in a chair—his eyes are closed but I can see the steady rise in his chest.
I pick my phone up and cover my mouth to keep from making noises. What was a teenage boy doing here? In my basement? I slowly stand up but my legs feel shaky. I moved closer wishing he would wake. I studied him—his features. He was shirtless—I blushed. He was wearing jeans—they looked like my father’s jeans. He had a couple tattoos on his back and arm. I circle him like a vulture would do to their meal. I move around trying to be as quiet as I can. The boy had short blonde hair and stubble. I move closer—so close I am right in his face. Why does he look so familiar to me? Why does this entire scenario seem familiar?
He opens his eyes suddenly. I step backwards and lose my footing. I fall on the ground and my butt takes the fall. Blue eyes. That is when I know that this boy—he is the boy from my dreams.
Blue eyes. Blue eyes. Blue eyes.
That is all I can think about as he stares at me. We stare for a very long time. He doesn’t seem angry but just mildly curious. I swallow hard and look away—this doesn’t make sense. How can you dream about someone you have never met before? The basement, the boy, the chair. But where was the man? The very man that tortured the boy.
“You are like them.” He says in a velvety pleasant voice and I am perplexed. What does that mean? Who am I like? When I don’t say anything he tries to point to me but his hands are chained. How could my father do this? Where was the wolf? I still have no idea what he is taking about.
“Your necklace.” I grab my necklace and look at it. The pendant is circular and words written in Latin are on it—in the middle is a wolf and a bow and arrow beside it.
“What are you talking about?” I say and he growls at me—actually growls at me. It sounds way too animalistic. I step back and tuck my necklace in my pocket. It was given to me by my great grandmother. On her death bed she said that when I am old enough I will know what it truly means to wear it. That was five years ago and I still haven’t a clue. My parents say that it’s important and when the time comes I will know.
“How did you get here?” I ask but he isn’t answering me. He stares at me as I sit squirming around waiting for him to say something. I feel myself unravel as he stares at me.
I spot the bags from this morning and rifle through them. It’s just some basic food and a case of water. Did my father plan on keeping him here? I grab a granola bar and dangle it in front of him. He looks hungry—I just want to be nice. He glares at me and hits it out of my hand. It flies across the room. I smirk.
“Fine.” I pick it up and put it back in the box. While his back is turned to me I study him. Stare at him. He is rather—attractive and I always thought that in my dreams. Seven long years of therapy and people telling me that these dreams are dreams. These nightmares are nightmares. Are my dreams becoming reality? For a moment I question my own sanity. I poke his back that is hot and sweaty. He growls and tries to spin on me. Yep—he is definitely real.
“You are him.” I say more to myself. I walk back around and he just looks angry and confused. “It’s you.” I say again.
“What?” He growls again. I cross my arms and stare at him.
“The one from my dreams. It’s you.” He laughs at me and I know how ridiculous it sounds. I keep circling him and I have the need to touch his hair though I don’t know why…
I start moving my hand—I have made a mistake. I am way too close to him. He grabs my wrist and twists it. I let out yelp and fall to my knees. The pain is too great and if I move, he can break my wrist.
“Let go of me. I haven’t done anything.” His grip tightens. What happened to the frightened and nervous boy in my dreams? My eyes tear up but I don’t cry.
“You will unchain me.” He commands me and I want to be defiant and tell him to go to hell but I just shake my head. I don’t even know where the keys are.
“I don’t know where anything is.” I say and his grip doesn’t let up. I look up at him and his entire body is just radiating power.
“If you want to keep your wrist you better find something.” I laugh and he doesn’t like that. He glares at me through those beautiful blue eyes…
“How can I find anything when you are holding me?” I say and I have a point. He groans and lets me go. As soon as he does I slap him across the face. I did it on impulse—he made me angry. The slap doesn’t even leave a mark. He looks amused.
“I am not unchaining you. You could kill me!” I say with my hands in the air. He doesn’t say anything. I rub my right wrist and sit back down on the cold cement floor against a pillar. I look around and I see the garage door and my father’s latest car. I also see tons of work benches and a couch. It looks uncomfortable.
“Do you know my father?” I ask and he shakes his head. At least I got some sort of answer.
“Do you know where the wolf went?” The boy smiles wickedly as if he’s got a secret and he isn’t going to share it with me. I scrunch my face up and turn around to pace the basement. It is the first time I have ever seen it. Unlike my dream the floors are actually black and white tiles and there is a huge garage door.
This makes me question if this is from my dreams but looking at the boy—I know this my dream. I turn to see him and he is watching my closely. I can’t help but notice his ripped biceps. It must be uncomfortable to sit with his hands like that but I know better then to let him go.
“Why don’t you take a picture? It will last longer.” The boy says. I know he means it to be rhetorical but just to spite him; I take my cell out and snap a picture of him. I smile sweetly but he seems rather annoyed by me.
“What? I just did what you asked of me.” I say. When I first came down to the basement I was scared of the boy and I wanted to help him. I am definitely still angry with my father and confused. What is he doing with this boy and where is the wolf? Now, I am still scared but not just because of the boy but of my father.
“What’s your name?” I ask but he doesn’t answer. I sigh and sit against the stone pillar that supports the ceiling. We don’t say anything for several minutes. Then I hear something that horrifies me. Tires grinding against the gravel. My parents! Shit! I stand up and start to run upstairs but then I remember I locked the door from the outside. I could go out the door next to the garage but my parents would know.
“Estelle!” I could vaguely hear my name. I crouch by my father’s latest car. The boy looks above him and smiles at me.
“Your not suppose to be down here, are you Estelle?” I shiver when he says my name. I then feel my phone vibrating—it’s my father calling. I turn on the boy and answer it.
“Hello?” I say into the phone. I glance at the boy who seems highly amused.
“Estelle. Where are you?” He asks me sternly. I take a breath and think. If I don’t make up a good lie—he will surely know and I don’t know what will happen.
“I—I am at Phoebe Curtis’s house. We got talking at the party and she picked me up.” I say smoothly and I think I have pulled it off.
“Why didn’t you take your car?” I frown. The boy is just smirking—I think he would get in more trouble then I would if my father caught me down here.
“She was—in the area. No point in wasting gas.” I sound so stupid but my father doesn’t notice.
“Okay. When will you be home?” He asks and I have no idea when I’ll be able to get out of here.
“I don’t know but I’ll be home before you wake up.” I say and he nods. I say goodbye to him and just as I do the door that leads to the basement opens. I basically go under the car and wait. The boy watches me but then starts to look around when the man comes downstairs. It’s my father.
The boy looks like he is freaking out but in a silent sort of way. This is more like my dream—my father would never hurt anyone though, right? I still am trying to find out the possibilities of why this boy is locked in my basement when a voice speaks.
“I don’t have to do this every time if you give me what I need.” It is my father speaking and I then I knew. This is exactly from my dream. I start to silently hyperventilate—my dreams are one thing but this is reality.
Tears start streaming down my face as I watch in horror. My father beating this boy until he bleeds. He is trying to get out information and I wish he just would so my father would stop but that isn’t how my dream goes. The boy screams so loud—louder then in my dream and I cover my mouth and my entire mental and physical state feels in agony.
After it’s all over, blood is spread across the floor where the boy sits and I wonder how my father could possibly get rid of all this blood but I then notice a drain right below the chair the boy is sitting in. At that moment—seeing all the blood, I instantly distrust my father. I don’t approve of his actions. Why would he beat an innocent boy? I roll out from under the car and slowly stand up. The boy is breathing heavily and he sits slack in the chair. Blood pours off his body—his face, his sides.
I walk over to him and end up slipping right into his blood. My initial reaction is to scream but I repress the urge and stand up. My hair feels sticky and my clothes are ruined. I know that I won’t be wearing these again. I am also thankful that the boy doesn’t notice because it is actually embarrassing. I hold his face in my hands gently and he moans in pain. I take breath and I am relieved that he is alive. I suddenly hear steps. Before I think my legs are already making a beeline for the car to hide under. It’s so dark but I can still make out my bloody footsteps. I curse at myself hoping nobody notices.
This time it’s my mother. She pulls out a key and unchains him. She notices the bloody steps but probably assumes they belong to my father. He falls in her grasp and I think she is going to help him but instead she drags him over to the cage. She puts him and then makes a noise as if she’s disgusted. Then she leaves. I don’t know what to do. I sit there for several minutes and the boy still doesn’t move.
I then realize I should leave but I can’t just go back upstairs and pretend I just got back from Phoebe’s house. I got up and quickly go out the door next to the garage and lock. Fortunately, the locks are the same as the basement door. I run fast down the drive until I am on the familiar country road that leads into town.
I run about a mile up before I look in my contacts and find Phoebe’s number. I call her and ask if she can meet me up at the gas station. I run the rest of the way to the station which takes maybe five minutes. I stay hidden from the people coming in and out of the station to get gas. If anyone sees me they would surely tell my father.
I see Phoebe’s car and I hop in quickly. She takes a look at me and then just starts driving. Phoebe has no reason to trust me at all but she doesn’t ask questions or look at me oddly. She just drives. We get to her house twenty minutes later. She lives on the other side of town then I. Her house is a ranch—small but cute. It has a basement—I think.
“Where are your parents?” I ask when I see all the lights are turned off and no other cars are in the driveway.
“Oh. They are at my cousin’s house for a wedding in Washington. They won’t be back until Tuesday. I refuse to go.” She says and I smile as I follow her in.
“Sorry but is that—blood on your clothes, hands, face, and hair?” Phoebe asks inspecting it. I don’t know what to tell her without looking like I murdered someone.
“Hunting gone wrong.” I say. It seems like the only logical explanation. She knows that my family hunts animals and such. She arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say another word while we walk through her bedroom. She tosses me a new set of clothes that I know will be too short on me since I am two inches taller then her but it’s better then these bloodied clothes.
“The bathroom is right through there.” I nod my thanks and she leaves me alone for now. I get in the shower and watch the drain fill with bloody water. I want stop thinking about my father and how he just hurt that boy. Sure he was irritating but not to that extent where my father would beat him to a pulp. Nothing is making sense to me but then I realize something—is this why my father doesn’t allow me in the basement? Because he does to not just one but several people?
I get out and get dressed in sweats that are to short but it will do just fine. Before I go out to meet with Phoebe, I braid my hair. Phoebe is sitting on a couch that looks a little stiff but I plop down on it anyway.
“Thanks for doing this.” I say. She smiles and then turns her attention to me. I know she wants an explanation so I make up a bogus story of how I was hunting with my father and we got separated. I wasn’t hard to convince her I gout attacked because there have been animal attacks lately. And she sees my bruised and reddened wrist and I tell her it’s from the attack but it’s really from the boy in the basement.
“I am glad you made it out alright and were able to call me.” She tells me and I nod.
“Well at least all that blood isn’t mine.” I say truthfully. She nods and we talk for a little while longer before I tell her that I have to get home. I feel bad for wasting her gas but she doesn’t mind at all. Maybe I should keep my friendship with her. The first friend I had in seven years.
I have Phoebe drop me off at the entrance of my drive which is a considerable long distance back to where my house is. I wave as she leaves and I walk up the drive. My body feels tired and I feel empty—emotionally. At the house, I quietly go through the back door because I don’t want the entire woods to wake up when the creak of the front door goes off.
As soon as I am in the house—there are maybe four different voices coming from either the kitchen or the living room. I tip-toe on the wood boards and get close enough so I can hear.
“I got nothing off him. He won’t speak but there is more torture methods.” That is my father speaking and I shiver. His voice sounds cold and mean. Everything I thought he wasn’t.
“He just heals after shifting. It’s his will we have to break.” I recognize that voice. It’s Bill. After saying that—I am only more confused. Shifting? Nothing is making sense to me. All I know is that my father and Bill and whoever else want something from that boy.
“I think its time we tell Estelle and Nicholas.” That is Nick’s mother’s voice. Her name is Jane. Her voice sounds even more sweet then my mother’s.
“I agree—it will explain a lot to Estelle, Kate.” Jane is talking to my mother, Kate. Everyone murmurs in agreement.
“She will finally know there is a reason the doctors cant stop those nightmares.” I sit back against the wall. Have they been acting all along? They really don’t think I am crazy. I think its relief that hits me—to know that something isn’t mentally wrong with me.
“Ruby said that she was the one that would inherit the gift. I just wish she would tell us the dream. She’s had the same one for seven years.” It’s my mother talking. Ruby is—was my great grandmother. The one that gave me the necklace.
“Don’t you think she will act a little more normal if she knows she isn’t crazy?” My mother asks to anyone in general. I didn’t hear anything and I wanted to stay longer but I needed to sleep and I figured they would tell me what I wanted to know soon enough.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and changed into my own sweats. I still was trying to figure out how Nick fit into all of this. How did Nick and the boy from the basement fit into my life or the secret in my life that I didn’t even know? After I got my clothes on I slipped into my bed and then feel asleep very confused.