I sat there, curled in a ball, and I thought of my mother and why she hadn’t hidden with me. We would’ve had time, and there was space enough for the two of us. I rocked and rocked, my sleep shorts growing clammy and chafing my skin as they dried.
Asa texted me throughout the day, asking me if I was okay and still hidden. I replied with one word, “Ok,” to every single one of his texts, no matter what he sent. I was busy replaying the night over and over in my head, trying to figure out what I’d missed, trying to see how I could’ve done things differently. I couldn’t seem to think of any other words to type—my mind consumed with what ifs—until I received a text asking me where I was. For some reason, the thought of telling anyone where I was hiding made me feel like I was crawling out of my skin, and he had to send the question seven times before I could make myself reply, “crawlspace.”
The last time I’d seen my mom, she was standing with her shoulders back, her robe tied tightly around her waist, showing off her hourglass figure. Her back was to me, so I hadn’t seen her face, but I knew which expression she’d worn with that body language. She was bluffing. The raised chin and rigid posture I’d seen whenever she felt uncomfortable was in full view as I’d left her.
She’d stood her ground for one reason. If they’d known who we were, or even if they hadn’t, they would’ve expected to find my mom somewhere in the house—but a teenage daughter could be absent without raising any red flags.
If my mom would have followed me into the crawlspace, they would’ve known there was somewhere to hide and would have searched until they found us.
So instead, she’d faced them like a lioness, fiercely, and with absolutely no reservation.
I wasn’t sure about the passing of time, and it didn’t matter—not really. Because the moment I figured out why my mother hadn’t hidden with me, I shut down and retreated into my own mind—effectively blocking the outside world and anything with the potential to hurt me further.
Chapter 9
Callie
I was yanked out of my quiet place by a loud hammering coming from my bedroom. I’d been so out of it that I hadn’t heard anyone come into the house, and my heart started racing like a scared rabbit’s when my phone lit up beside me with an incoming call from ‘Grease’. I didn’t answer it, like I hadn’t all day, too afraid to make any noise. The pounding grew louder, and I heard someone cursing, when all of a sudden I got a new text message. “We’re here,” was all it said, and I was hit with a surge of relief mixed with panic. I wasn’t sure what to do, and my thoughts were so jumbled that I just sat there, staring at the screen as the cursing and pounding became louder. Was he here as in my house, or here as in San Diego County? I couldn’t be sure if the noise in my room was him, or someone ransacking the house. I couldn’t be sure of anything.
While I sat staring at the screen, I heard the sounds move to the hallway, and I froze in terror as they came closer. Just then, another text came through, and I almost dropped the phone from my shaking hands as I checked it.
“Where are you?”
The voices came into my parents’ room and started knocking as I slowly pushed the reply button and typed a message back. “There’s some1 in the house”. I tried to listen closely to the voices on the other side of the wall, but my mind was racing so quickly I couldn’t interpret what they were saying. I started rocking again, my hand in my hair, but the movements were jerky and short as I tried to be as silent as possible.
The voices in the room grew louder after my text, and I started hyperventilating when I realized that one of the words they were using was my name.
Still, I said nothing. I just waited; staring at my phone like it was my last link to sanity.
The pounding came closer and closer as I tried to slow my breathing, and eventually it stopped right above the little sliding door of my hiding place. Someone called out, and I whimpered quietly in the back of my throat as the door of the crawlspace slowly slid open.
I watched in terror as the boxes closest to the door were moved out of the way, slowly dismantling the only thing that had kept me safe. I kept my eyes on the opening and the arms reaching inside as I used my heels to push myself tightly against the wall, curling into myself. I vaguely registered when Asa’s voice filtered into the space, but I couldn’t understand why I was hearing him.
Man, it smells like piss in here. You sure she said the crawlspace? It just looks like a bunch of Christmas shit.
She’s there. Keep going.
Fuck, man. If she’s in here then why the fuck isn’t she saying anything?
A dark haired man slid the last of the boxes out of the storage, and once he had a clear view I saw the whites of his eyes as they opened wide in surprise. I couldn’t really see his face, his back was to the light, but I could hear the glee in his voice as he called out behind him, “Yup! She’s here!” before crawling further inside. When he reached me and lifted his arm as if to pull me forward, I kicked out with one of my heels, smashing it into his chin like a karate master.
“What the fuck?” he yelled at me, causing me to retreat back into my corner as he scrambled back out the door. “Bitch just kicked me in the face!”
“What the fuck did you do?” a voice I recognized roared.
In the next second, broad shoulders wedged themselves through the door, and a familiar face was gazing at me in the sliver of light coming through the small gap between his chest and the doorway.