I wake up to the sound of someone banging on my door. I sit upright in my bed, confused, but then, I remember.
I remember walking home in a daze, stunned and in a bewildered stupor.
I remember stumbling into my house, my mind feeling like it had been emptied.
I remember running Will's knife under water from the kitchen tap until no spot of blood remained.
I remember collapsing on my bed and falling into a deep sleep in a matter of seconds.
This morning, I feel like I am in a trance. I feel so unfamiliar with my life. From the other side of my door, my father keeps on knocking, and calls out my name. I walk to my door and open it.
"Do you know where your mother is?" he asks, panicked. "She wasn't here this morning when I woke up."
My father is panicked because my mother never leaves the house without letting him know, especially this early in the morning. When she wakes up early, the first thing she always does is make breakfast for us, and if she has to leave the house when we are asleep, she always leaves a note.
I know my face must be completely drained of colour, but I can't help it. I shake my head slowly, because I don't know if I am able to form words right now.
My father looks at me curiously. "Are you sure she didn't say anything to you?"
I think back to Will, the way he could paralyze me with terror, how he told me to keep my mouth shut, and I try to regain my composure.
"No, she didn't. She would tell you if she was going somewhere; we don't talk to each other. You know that."
He nods. "Yeah," he murmurs. "It's just unusual for her to leave. She probably had some errand to do, although I don't know why she got up so early. I'll try not to worry too much, and hopefully she'll be back. soon." He pauses and looks at the ground. He does not usually speak this much in such a short period of time. "Do you have work today?"
Again, I just nod my head. He knows that I have work today, but he says it as a way of ending the conversation, I'm sure. It's not that my father does not like talking to me, it's that he does not like talking much in general, making conversations feel slightly uncomfortable at times.
"Okay then, I'll leave you to get ready," he says, relieved to have wrapped up our small discussion.
He exits my room and closes the door behind him. When he is gone, I let out a shaky sigh. When I sit down on my bed, I look at myself in the mirror and am shocked at what I see. I look so frightened, so scared. My shoulder is bloodied and purple from where the brick hit it, and it hurts desperately when I try to move my arm. I know that I cannot go out into town, and to work, looking like this.
I walk right up to the mirror until my face is almost touching it, and I stare at myself, willing myself to look normal. I must stand there for at least ten minutes, and tears start to fall down my cheeks, again. I hate crying. But, eventually, I stop crying and manage to make myself look dull and devoid of anything. I have to keep it this way.
Wiping away the last of my tears, I tell myself that I will not cry. I cried because of my mother and the horrible way she died, but also because I was scared. But crying because I am scared of what Will might make me do is a sign of weakness, and weakness is the thing I loathed most about my mother.
I don't want to become like her, end up like her.
I finally get dressed and bathed, and leave my house to go to work. I will have to find some food on the way, as my mother isn't here anymore to prepare any food. As I walk to work, I find myself dreading the moment I have to come back to the house. By then, my father will be fully alarmed, and I'm sure he will have notified the mayor that my mother is missing. Then I will be questioned, understandably, and there will be a search for my mother. I doubt they will find her - I have a feeling that Will is too smart for that - but I know that the questions won't stop until the town has found an answer. I am anxious because I do not know how well I can lie, and I cannot afford to raise suspicions of my father, or of the town. Perhaps the best way to deceive the others is to imagine Will watching me as I am questioned, his scary eyes boring into my skull. Maybe that will be make me be convincing enough. I do wonder, though, what Will might do if I fail, if I give everything away.
As I turn the corner onto the main street, I see him, and my heart stops. He is not sitting on the bench as he normally does, but standing against the wall across from the bench, his long arms crossed. I cannot tell what his mood is, because his eyes, like his face, don't give anything away as he watches me.
I couldn't even put how I feel towards him at this moment into words. I do not know if it is fear, or hate, or disgust, or some kind of sick admiration. I can't tell how I feel, and I do not want to look at him, talk to him, so I avert my eyes and try to walk past him quickly. He lets me walk past him, but then I feel his hand pressing into my injured shoulder, hard, purposeful, as he turns me around to face him. I flinch at the contact of his hand, from pain and from revulsion.
"Come on Lara," Will says, shaking his head. "Ignoring me is not going to do you any good."
He looks at me thoughtfully, and his faces changes from apathetic to something that I didn't quite expect. Again, it's hard to place, but looks slightly guilty, apologetic, distressed. He doesn't look cruel or evil, but I know he wants something, and I know from the way his hand still digs into my throbbing shoulder that he will not let me forget that I am powerless.
I do not say anything to him. I do not move, and I continue to look at the ground. What feels so strange is that as I stand here, not talking, people walk past Will and I without a second glance. From their point of view, it might just look like we are two friends saying good morning to each other, two friends sharing a silent moment, two strangers meeting each other for the first time. I wish they could know how I feel.
Will sighs and his hand slides off my shoulder. "Look, I know that you have to go to work." He stops talking as if he is trying to find his words. "But after you're done I need you to come and meet me at our spot. There's something I need to show you. It's important." He sounds almost pleading as he says this.
I look up at him wordlessly then turn back around and continue on my way to work.
"It's important Lara," he calls after me while I walk away.
I will not be meeting him. Whatever he wants to show me, whether it is truly important or another kind of sick game, I do not want to see. I am never going anywhere alone with him again. Not by choice.
As I walk to the garden shop, I look at the crows spotted around town. Perched atop lampposts or hopping around the ground. I see them watching me with their beady eyes. I walk past one on a doorstep, its head cocked towards me. The crows, they make me feel so trapped; Will is always watching me. I want so badly to run up to it and kick it and stomp on it until it is a bloody pile of feathers and bone. But, of course, if I tried, the crow would simply fly away and watch me from above. I am helpless.
I stop by the bakery and buy a sandwich for breakfast because I am starving. I eat it quickly and am finished by the time I step into the garden shop. Anne says hello to me with a friendly smile, and it feels so normal that it almost makes me wonder if everything that I have seen last night was really real. As I tie my green apron on and grab the watering can, I try to imagine that this is just a day like any other.
I spend the morning watering plants and planting seeds and helping inquiring customers. At noon, I go out to get lunch and start working again. It is about halfway through the afternoon when I hear the bell ring. I expect to see another customer, but it is not; it is my father, looking distraught.
Anne greets him and but he doesn't even acknowledge her as he walks over to me. He runs his hand through his messed up hair and sighs, shaking his head.
"I stayed home all day waiting for your mother," he says. "It was fine in the morning, but I got a pretty worried around lunch when she still didn't show up. I just don't think there's anyway she would be out on town for the whole day. Anyways, I left some minutes ago and went to her usual spots around town, and asked people if they had seen her, and it seems like she's just disappeared. I don't know if I'm being a little too frantic, but I'm really concerned now. Have you seen her?"
As my father is speaking to me, my eyes wander to the front of the shop, and out the window. I see two crows standing side by side, the tips of their beaks pointed towards me. I shouldn't be surprised. I bet Will told them to follow my father too.
I do my best to look as concerned as possible. "No, I haven't. I've been thinking about her, and I'm worried too. What should we do?"
My father wipes his hand across his face and shakes his head again. "God I don't know. I almost can't believe this is happening. I mean, she must be somewhere; people don't just disappear." He looks around the stop, thinking. "I'm going to go home and then walk around the town again. If I don't find her, I'm going to go to the mayor and get help. If something has happened, I don't want to wait too long to do something about it," he says.
He nods to himself as if confirming that he has a solid plan, then turns around and walks quickly out of the shop. As he leaves, I feel a smile forming on my face. I don't find this situation funny, not even close, but yet for some reason I find myself smiling. Maybe it is funny though, not in a humorous way, but maybe it is funny in some kind of other world, one which is warped and mangled. Maybe I am smiling because I am so useless, because I know exactly what has happened and yet I have no choice but to keep my sorry mouth shut.
Anne looks at me, smiling oddly at myself. "Is everything alright dear?" she asks sweetly.
I nod my head quickly. "Yeah," I say, my smile disappearing. "Well, I hope so. My father is pretty worried; we can't seem to find my mother."
"You can't seem to find her?" she asks.
"Yeah. I mean that she wasn't in the house when we woke up this morning. It's like she's just disappeared."
"Oh my," Anne says, looking surprised. "Your mother's such a dear. I hope she's okay. Let me know if I can do anything to help."
I smile at her. "I will," I assure her.
We both go back to working.
It is early evening when I finally leave the shop for the day. I consider stopping somewhere to get some dinner, but I decide that I would rather cook dinner for myself at home. I walk home as quickly as I can, scared that I will see Will. My mind keeps on wandering to what he will do when I don't show up tonight.
If I did meet Will tonight, I would feel stupid for walking right into his waiting trap, or plot, or whatever else he has planned. But I also feel stupid by disobeying him. Either way, whether I listened to his commands or not, I would probably end up being the loser.
I enter my house to the sound of quiet voices. As I walk into the kitchen I see my father sitting with the mayor, Thomas, a middle-aged man who seems to be on good terms with everyone in the entire town. They are eating dinner together, and I wonder how long he has been here. My father shifts worriedly in his chair when he sees me and looks at me with downtrodden eyes.
"She hasn't come back," my father says despondently. "Come sit with us."
I walk over slowly and take a seat at our small wooden table, looking at the soup and bread available for dinner. I take some of both.
Thomas looks at me. "I'm sorry this is happening Lara, and I know you've been through a lot recently. I know your father has also already asked you this, but I just need to clarify if you have any idea where your mother could be? If she mentioned anything, anything at all, to you, it would help a lot."
"I don't know. I don't know anything," I say.
A lie.
"I don't understand why all of this is happening."
A truth.
I look helplessly from my father to Thomas. I want to tell them, I really do.
"Believe me, we don't either," Thomas says. "Of course, I am the mayor, and I will do everything in my power to help." He reaches out and pats me on my hand. "It seems like your mother just left, or disappeared; we don't know. I think the best course of action is to get my officers to start searching the town right away. And questioning people too. I know you just arrived home, but I've already been talking to your father for a while. If you don't mind, I would like to leave right now to get started."
"Yes, yes of course," I say. "You should start looking for her as soon as possible."
My father nods. "Lara is right. Thank you so much for your help Thomas. You have no idea how much it means to us."
"It is my duty and my pleasure," Thomas says nobly. "If we do find her, I will let you know as soon as possible. If we do not, I will be back, hopefully with some questions that may help us."
With that, he gets up and lets himself out of the house. My father and I continue our dinner in silence. When he finishes his meal, he doesn't leave, he just sits there and thoughtfully watches me eat my soup and bread. When we have both finished, we put our empty dishes in the sink and walk silently to our respective rooms. I have a feeling my father will have a hard time falling asleep tonight without my mother there.
-----
I dream again tonight. In this dream, I know I am dreaming. Knowing this, however, does nothing to diminish how real it feels. In this dream, I walk through the streets of the town.
It feels as if it is about to rain, the sky grey and damp. Dreary. There is a wind that pushes my hair back from my face as I walk purposefully through the town. Where I am going, and why I have to go there, I don't know, but I am walking somewhere important.
Around me, I see other people from town. What is strange is that they all wear hooded cloaks, draped loosely around their bodies, covering their faces. I keep on walking, my heart beating faster as I get closer and closer to the destination I am walking to. Then, I hear the cawing of crows, loud and coming from everywhere around me like an alarm. Panicked, I look around me, no crows to be found.
Then I watch as everyone slowly puts their hands on their hoods, lifting them off their heads. And I watch, enthralled, as I see that they do not have human faces, but identical crows heads, crow heads the size of human ones. Their eyes are hollow and black, so big. Their beaks are hooked; they open and close as they screech to one another.
And then I am no longer mesmerized, but afraid, as they all turn to look directly at me. Humans with horrible crow faces, for as far as I can see. They then all take one step towards me. And one more. Soon they are all walking towards me, one solid mass of black fabric and feathers and enormous empty eyes. It is only when they stand right up against me that their beaks start to tear into my flesh, tearing me apart as I let out a bloodcurdling scream. They start with my eyes, my face, and then my neck, my torso, my legs, my feet. They keep on going, slowly working their way down my body, until there is nothing left of me. And since it is a dream, I feel every agonizing second of it.