Fade: Chapter Three

Chapter Three1

I was feeling uneasy, almost sick from nerves. It was like I was in a haunted house, and the strange warm air was still heavy on my lungs. 2

I could hear. Something . . . coming from nearby. At first, I thought it was the dog barking outside, but then it seemed to change as I walked closer to the door on my left. It seemed to change into a cry.3

For some reason, I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, but this time adding a nervous ‘is anyone there?’ to it, hoping to God nothing would answer. Nothing did.4

I stood in front of the oak door until the seemingly distance crying started again. My hand reached for the doorknob, if someone was there, I had to ask them what was going on.5

The door opened up and I stepped into yet another musky room. Although the wallpaper was peeling off the walls and the bed and stuffed animals seemed ragged and dusty, it was obviously a little girl’s room.6

The crying seemed to get slightly louder as I walked into the room, I looked around until I saw something move by the bed. I felt like a little kid myself, alone in the dark and afraid to look under the bed. Was I afraid of monsters? Maybe. But I was more afraid of finding a human.7

I dropped to my knees and peered underneath the bed from a distance. No good, I needed to get closer. I crawled along the dirty carpet until the crying stifled and I heard a muffled whimper. I pulled up the bed sheet with a shaky hand, my anxiety heightening to its max.8

The little girl underneath the bed shielded her eyes as if the sun had risen. I sighed, collecting myself.9

“Hi.” I said, peering in at the scared girl. “Uhh . . . my name’s Melissa . . . who are you?”10

The little girl’s eyes got bigger. “Melissa?” She asked as she started to crawl out from under the bed. “It can’t be you . . . ” she paused as the dim room allowed her to study my face.11

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Do . . . I know you?”12

The little girl raised an eyebrow. “Of course you know me. But not really.” She crawled completely out from under the bed and stood up, brushing off her little knees. 13

“Who are you?” I asked, puzzled by what the little girl was saying.14

“You don’t remember me after all.” The little girl sighed. “You say you’re Missy, but you don’t look like Missy. You’re old.”15

I paused for a moment. Missy. No one calls me that anymore. 16

“Please . . . tell me . . . where am I?” I asked, confused and scared. 17

“What do you mean? You’re home.” The little girl shook her head.18

“This isn’t my home.” I said glancing down at the bed. “Now tell me, what’s your name?”19

The little girl sighed and jumped up onto her dusty bed, sending the musky dirt to take flight in the warm air. “It’s me, Maggie!” she pouted.20

I paused. Maggie . . . it . . . can’t be . . . I thought, Maggie was a friend I knew from school, an acquaintance at least. Her parents lived next door . . . the Thatchers.21

“You can’t be Maggie.” I said out loud. “Maggie is seventeen!”22

The little girl laughed. “No, I’m not!” she giggled. “I just turned nine! How come you don’t remember that!? We’re the same age remember? You’re two days older . . . ” Maggie paused. “Or at least . . . Missy is.”23

“ I am Miss–Melissa!” I exclaimed.24

“Well Melissa isn’t old like you.” The little Maggie pouted.25

“And Maggie isn’t a little girl. She’s my age.” I said. I look over at the bed the little girl was sitting on. “Anyway . . . why were you crying underneath the bed like that?” I asked.26

Maggie frowned as she rubbed her arm. “Daddy got mad again. I thought he was gonna spank me with the belt like last time . . . He does that after he does stuff with you . . . ”27

“What are you . . . I don’t have a dad.” I said, staring into the little girl’s teary eyes.28

“Are you . . . really Melissa?” the little Maggie asked as she studied my face.29

“I already said that.” I looked around the room. “Is there anyone else in here?” I asked.30

“I thought I heard mommy and daddy yelling. That’s why I thought daddy was gonna hit me again . . . I . . . ”31

“So your mommy and daddy are here too?” I asked, ignoring that she kept saying ‘daddy’ was going to hit her, and that she was implying he was my dad.32

“...I think so. I think they are in the bedroom.” Maggie paused. “The one daddy plays with you in.”33

I raised an eyebrow as Maggie sighed. “I hope he doesn’t yell at me.” She said sadly. 34

“...I’m gonna go look for your parents, ok?” I said.35

“But mommy was yelling at daddy. They might be mad.” Maggie began to cry a little.36

“Just calm down, and I’ll talk to them.” I said as I walked toward the door. “Which room is the bedroom?” I asked before leaving.37

“The one daddy plays with you in, Missy. He doesn’t let me in it.” Maggie rubbed her eyes.38

“Which one is that?” I said, becoming impatient.39

“The one at the end of the hall!” Maggie yelled as she burst into tears. “I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.  You aren’t Missy! Daddy likes Missy more than me and mommy, she’d know where it is! You aren’t Missy!” she screamed as I walked out the door, I didn’t have time to try and calm her down, I had to calm myself down first.40