* * *
I was glad that Patrick walked me inside my house. It was dark and silent, which was no different than most times when I got home. However, usually when it was this late, my parents were home, in their room. They rarely asked how my day was. If they did, there was no real interest behind it. They didn’t listen to what I said, unless there was something that raised a red flag in their mind. So, I always tried to avoid talking to them when I got home. But there was something comforting about coming home with someone there. Even if they locked themselves in their room and didn’t care about me.
I was edgy as I walked inside. I turned on the living room light and stood there listening to the noises of the house. The familiar creaks didn’t bother me. It was the occasional sounds of stuff from outside scraping against the windows or doors. Or at least that’s I what I hoped it was. It was late and I was tired. My imagination was getting the best of me. At this rate, I won’t be able to sleep because I’d be worried about what was lurking around the house.
This was the reason why I always came home relatively early when my parents would be home late or were out of town. It had always been easier to adjust to the house at night, with all its odd noises inside and out. If I was already home before it was late, usually before dark then I knew no one was hiding out there ready to attack me like some monster in a movie, or worse—my real-life demon.
There was a crash outside. It sounded like it was on the side of the house. I didn’t need to hear that.
“Uhh, Patrick…do you think you could stay for a little while?” I sputtered. There had to be a reasonable explanation for the noise. Right?
“Yeah, of course. I’m sure it was nothing. It was probably just a stray that knocked over your trash cans or something.” His voice exuded confidence. It made me feel better that he was there and heard the crash too. It wasn’t my imagination.
“Yeah, nothing.” I was unconvinced. I stood still, suddenly afraid to go anywhere in the house. All I wanted to do was run to my bed and pull up the covers.
“Want me to check the house?” Sometimes it was like he could read my mind.
I was also glad that he would look around for me, but I was afraid for him. What if there was a bad guy out there and Patrick did find him? What if something happened to Patrick because of me? I couldn’t live with myself. I stammered, “I’ll go with you.”
I followed close behind him with my cell phone in hand to call 911 if I had to. We walked around to the backyard. One of the trash cans had been knocked over. There was a cat that was going through an old take-out container. Patrick was right. As usual. Thankfully.
* * *
Despite knowing that it was just a cat, I was still a little anxious as I got ready for bed. I rushed through my nightly routine before locking my bedroom door behind me. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers over me. I forced myself to remember the majority of my day at the Connor’s instead of the last 20 minutes at home. Happier thoughts and exhaustion took over as I fell asleep.