Patchwork

“Alright class, remember, tomorrow is the end of semester finals. I hope everyone sleeps well tonight and wakes up prepared in the morning. Class dismissed.”

Finals.

Ms. Galloway, my Language Arts teacher, had been preparing us for this test since day one. I had no doubt about it that I would ace this exam, as I had in the past. After that, I could finally start my summer break before heading off to college to begin the cycle again.

I gathered up my backpack and walked towards the door. Ms. Galloway smiled briefly as I walked by her desk.

“Good luck tomorrow, Alex. I'm sure you won't have any problems with the test. Oh, and, happy birthday.”

I quickly acknowledged her comment with a silent nod and a grin as I made my way out the door. As I walked calmly down the hallway, a familiar voice called out from behind me. I stopped, turned around, and noticed that it was my best friend Sarah. She ran over to me.

“Hey, Alex,” she said pleasantly, “what are you going to do for your birthday now that you're eighteen?”

“Study.” I replied.

“How boring,” she teased, “you should do something fun.”

We continued walking and exchanging small talk, eventually making it to the main school entrance and its glass double-doors. Outside I was greeted by the glare of the afternoon sun slamming its rays down into my eyes. I turned to Sarah, who was busy shielding herself from the sun by furiously zipping her hoodie all the way up and covering her head.

“Are you okay?” I asked jokingly, having been down this path before.

“Yeah, I'm all right. I just burn easy, that's all.”

We both laughed and headed towards the student parking lot behind the school. A few minutes later we were both standing next to Sarah's car, chatting casually about tomorrow's exam and both of our plans for the summer.

“I heard that Ms. Galloway was going to Vegas when this school year was over,” Sarah said.

“Let's just hope she comes back safely,” I replied darkly, “things have a way of creeping up on you.”

Sarah noticed my sudden change in tone. Her eyes met mine. She knew something was bothering me.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“You were quiet today in class,” she said, “is something on your mind that you're not telling me?”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">We had been friends since kindergarten, and over the years we practically learned everything about one another. However, there might have been one thing I kept secret from her.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“It's about my sister,” I said gravely, “today is her birthday; or it would have been, had she been born.”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Why haven't you ever talked to me about this? You know I would have been there for you.” She looked offended that I had kept this information from her.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I don't know,” I replied.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I lied. I did know why.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I'm sorry about your sister,” she said, “how old would she have been?”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“She would have been eighteen had she been alive today.”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I felt my face become hot from annoyance. Sarah looked at me and could tell that this conversation needed to end, for now at least.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I'll let you get home to your parents. They probably have something planned for you.”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">We hugged briefly before heading our separate ways.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">My house was a ten minute drive from the school, located in an upper-middle class neighborhood. I stood on the doorsteps to the front door of my home. I rang the doorbell once, and to my surprise, no one answered. Since my dad was at a business meeting, I figured my mom was out running a few quick errands. So, I opened the door with my personal key. Once inside, I noticed a note on the kitchen refrigerator:

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">''Went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. ''

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">''Happy Birthday! ''

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">''Mom. ''

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">''P.S. Your cake is on the counter. Feel free to have a slice.''

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I went over to the counter and noticed the cake. Chocolate. My favorite. I grabbed a plate and knife from the cabinet and cut a slice for myself. I left the kitchen and went upstairs to my room. Oddly enough, my bedroom door was ajar, and I could see the light from my bathroom peeking out at me. I cautiously opened my bedroom door. The bathroom door was open and its light was on. However, I quickly scanned my bedroom. Nothing looked disturbed.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Strange,” I thought, “I don't remember leaving the light on.” I turned the light off and closed the door.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I turned the bedroom light on and set my cake down on the desk across from my bed. I took my backpack off and put it on my bed, taking a notebook out in the process. The notebook was worn and contained several weeks worth of notes. I sat down at my desk and got comfortable. I opened the notebook and began to study; eating a little bit of the cake every few pages or so.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I had been studying for what seemed like half an hour. I noticed that my mother was still not back from the store yet.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Didn't she say that she only needed a few things,” I mused, “I guess it must be crowded today.” I went back to my studying.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">However, it wasn't long before a sound in the hallway pulled my attention away from my studies. I turned my head to the disembodied laugh of a little girl. I was alone, so I knew there couldn't be anyone else in the house with me. A cold bead of sweat started to form on my brow. A few minutes went by and nothing happened. So, I went back to my studies.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">As I was nearing the end of the notebook, I could of swore I heard labored breathing coming from behind me.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“How was the cake?”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I turned around quickly. Nothing. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. My skin felt cool and clammy. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I knew that I wasn't imagining it.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">Ding-Dong!

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">The sound of the doorbell snapped me back to reality. I went downstairs and saw that my mother had already let herself in. She had a few plastic grocery bags with her.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Could you lock the front door for me sweetie?” she asked.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I locked the door and went over to the kitchen to help her unpack. She looked me over.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Alex, you look tired. Do you feel alright?”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I'm alright,” I replied, “I've just been studying for tomorrow's exam.”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I didn't bother telling her about the events from before. I doubt she would have believed me.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Don't work yourself too hard.”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I won't.”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Good,” she said, “your dad is about to come home from his meeting. We'll have dinner early so you can get some sleep.”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">Dinner was typical: my father talked about work, my mother shared some gossip her girlfriends had told her, the trash was taken out, and the dishes were done. After dinner, I went up to my room and prepared for bed.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">That night I tossed and turned. I found it difficult to push the memories of what had happened earlier out of my mind. When I finally managed to fall asleep, I found myself in a hallway that seemed to be entirely organic in nature. The floor and walls were rhythmically pulsating in sync with my own heartbeat. This place felt somehow familiar, yet I still couldn't fight a foreboding sense of dread rising in my chest.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">A few moments later, and I could make out a silhouette in the darkness before me. The figure was shambling towards me, growing ever near as the seconds passed on. It was then that I noticed that I could not move. My legs would not obey my mind's desperate plea to run.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Happy birthday, Alex!”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">The silhouette that was only moments ago obscured was now in plain view. I cried out in terror as I laid eyes upon the thing that was in front of me. It was hunched over with its legs close to its head, making it roughly half my height. Pieces of translucent flesh were haphazardly sewn together, giving its skin a patchwork look to it. Two hollowed eye sockets stared back at me.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“You have something of mine!” 

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">It lunged towards me.

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">My vision faded to black for a moment. When I opened my eyes, there was a girl in front of me, who looked to be around my age. She stared at me and smiled. 

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“How does it feel?”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">She walked past me and I turned around to see her fade into the distance. Something felt off. I looked down and noticed it immediately.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“''One. Two. Three. Push!”''

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">Suddenly, an intense white light filled my vision. Blinded and confused, I felt an unknown source pulling me towards the light. My breath felt like it was being taken away from me. I could feel my heart slow and become still...

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I heard that Ms. Galloway was going to Vegas when this school year was over,” Sarah said.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Let's just hope she comes back safely,” I replied darkly, “things have a way of creeping up on you.”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">Sarah noticed my sudden change in tone. Her eyes met mine. She knew something was bothering me.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“You were quiet today in class,” she said, “is something on your mind that you're not telling me?”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">We had been friends since kindergarten, and over the years we practically learned everything about one another. However, there might have been one thing I kept secret from her.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“It's about my brother,” I said gravely, “today is his birthday; or it would have been, had he been born.”

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“Why haven't you ever talked to me about this? You know I would have been there for you.” She looked offended that I had kept this information from her.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I don't know,” I replied.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">I lied. I did know why.

<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“I'm sorry about your brother,” she said, “how old would he have been?”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">“He would have been eighteen had he been alive today.”

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">

<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none">