The Leveller - Julia Durango Page 0,55

ever.

For a moment, I wonder if I can ever return. If I should ever return.

I walk away from the swings.

And walk away from that thought for another day.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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I AM SLEEPING SO SWEETLY. SO DEEPLY, SO DREAMLESSLY. I DO NOT want to wake up. I want to stay here forever, but someone is knocking on the door.

Go away, I think. I’m not here.

I pull the blanket over my head.

The knocking continues. It is a soft knock, but insistent.

I try to ignore it, nestling inside my flannel cocoon. My blanket smells a little bit like fabric softener, a little bit like Hodee. It smells like home.

Home!

My eyes fly open.

I’m in my room. My room!

It’s dark in here, but on the wall opposite me I see the Pikachu nightlight that Chang and Moose gave me for my seventh birthday. My heart swells.

I am home, I am home, I am home.

The knocking starts again.

“Mom?” I call, sitting up in bed. “Dad?”

I am wearing my usual pajamas, a worn pair of yoga pants and an old Cubs T-shirt. I have never been so happy to see these clothes. I have never been so happy to see my parents.

But why don’t they come in? There’s no lock on my bedroom door.

I leap from my bed, cross the room, and fling the door open.

The hallway is empty.

And dark.

“Mom?” I yell, sweeping my hand along the wall for the light switch.

I flip it on.

Nothing.

I try again, flipping the switch up and down several times.

Still nothing.

“Dad?” I yell, running back to my nightstand to turn on the bedside lamp.

Click click click.

Nothing.

I rest my hand over my pounding heart, willing it to slow down. I’m home. No need to panic. The power went out. That is all.

Bam!

The bedroom door slams shut behind me.

My heart is racing now, my breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“Mom! Dad!” I yell again, searching the nightstand, floor, bed, for my phone and its flashlight app. I can’t find it anywhere.

I stare at the door. Who closed it? Hodee! Maybe Hodee nudged it shut. Maybe, maybe, I think—my mind searching wildly for an answer, for some reasonable explanation—maybe he was so excited by my return that he ran into the door and pushed it shut by mistake.

I yell Hodee’s name and reach for the doorknob, but a competing voice in my head warns me to stop, tells me that I’m wrong, that this is absurd, that there is no reasonable explanation. I push it away and open the door.

“Hodee! Mom! Dad!” I call, stumbling through the dark hallway. “Where are you?”

Behind me my bedroom door slams shut again.

This time I scream.

I run to the end of the hallway to my parents’ room. I turn the knob, but the door is locked. I pound on the door, yelling for my parents. I try the knob again.

The hallway grows darker.

I am crying now, sobbing.

I run through the hall trying every door.

The bathroom door.

Locked.

My mom’s office.

Locked.

I hear a door slam downstairs.

A shudder rushes through me, raising every last hair on my body.

Who is in the house with me?

Why won’t they answer?

I stand at the top of the stairwell, the sound of my own heart exploding inside my head. I clasp a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sobs. I need to be still, I need to listen. Who is down there?

I will my body to cooperate. I take deep breaths to slow my breathing. I wrap my arms around my ribcage to stop the shivering. I bite my lip to keep from screaming.

I listen.

There is only silence.

Maybe they’ve left.

Have they left?

And then I hear it.

A faint whisper.

“Nixy!”

The sound comes from behind me.

My stomach clenches in fear.

“Momma?” I murmur, slowly turning around.

There is no one there. Just a long, dark hallway.

I hear it again.

“Nixy!”

The voice is so quiet I can barely hear it, yet urgent and familiar at the same time. And it is coming from my bedroom. The door now stands ajar. Pikachu’s dim light casts an eerie glow inside.

I slowly walk toward the room, then pause in the doorway.

“Nixy!”

The voice is coming from under the bed.

I taste blood and realize I have bitten through my lip.

“Momma?” I whimper, sinking to my knees.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, my mind shrieks.

But I have to look.

I have to.

Haltingly, I lower myself to all fours, then bend my elbows. I lean my head down, eyes squeezed shut.

I start to open them when I feel someone’s breath on my neck.

“Nixy!”

I open my mouth and scream instead.

UNCORRECTED