Page 79 of Race to Me

“Me too.” she agrees.

“That was the point—a perfect home from the outside. A nightmare inside. You were never supposed to know.” I assure them.

Brett lowers his head. “Yeah, but Ghost knew you for five minutes and figured it out.”

“Right place, right time,” I state. I knew this would be their worry; that they didn’t stop the monster from hurting me.

But they didn’t know there was a monster in the first place.

All they saw was all my parents let them see.

Just my dad, who hosted football games in our backyard and smiled while grilling hot dogs for us on summer nights.

Just my mom, who put band-aids on our knees when we scraped them on our bicycles but would turn her head at the sight of my bruises for the sake of luxury.

Just the princess in her castle, with her grand staircase and pearls.

With her long blonde hair that was always curled to perfection.

Screaming to escape, but only in her head.

When all along, one call to my best friends would have given me a different life.

Thirty

“Make it stop!” I scream into the cramped, dark room. Terror rakes through my body when the shadowy figure grows closer.

I retreat from the danger only to find a wall that foils my escape plans. A monster stalks towards me, and there’s no escape.

A stream of light enters the room, similar to morning sunlight bursting through the glass panes of my bedroom window when I was a little girl. At the center of the brightness stands a tall, handsome man.

His dark hair is a tousled mess, and his eyes are as deep as a midnight sky that can’t possibly compete with the light that surrounds him. Tattoos wrap around him like vines, illuminated by the glittering gleam.The monster is beside me now with his hands raised in a dangerous position.

He steps forward, his hand slashing through the darkness like a valiant sword.

I reach my hands towards him, and at that moment the dark, lurking shadow monster evaporates before my eyes, creating a cracking sound as the smoke trails on the ground.

“What the fuck, Ghost?” Brett yells out.

My eyes shoot open, and when I lean up, I can’t tell if I’m still dreaming or not. The bedroom door is ripped from the hinges, lying on the floor.

And Foster is bolting right for me.

He dips down beside me while I lay in the bed with Kate who is tossing to wake. “What happened?” Foster stammers, his voice a rugged octave in the morning.

I look to my hands, to Kate’s fiery hair, and to Brett on the other bed, trying to figure out what happened. “What do you mean?”

“I came by to bring you this.” He holds up a couple of bags and two drinks which I’m surprised he didn’t spill. “But I heard you screaming from the hallway.”

I sit up, recalling my nightmare. “Bad dream,” I shrug, trying to hide my mortified face from his so he doesn’t get a whiff of my morning breath. All we did last night was watch movies and eat ridiculous amounts of food, but it was a much-needed sleepover.

“Did you bring me anything?” Kate mumbles, her sleepy eyes trying to stay open as she leans up.

Foster smiles, handing her a small bag. “Chicken minis and hash browns.” He looks back to Brett, a devilish sneer taking over his features. “I didn’t bring you anything.”

Brett laughs bitterly, annoyed and huffing about the broken door. “I’m jumping in the shower.” he states, gathering his duffel bag and stepping over the splintered wood on the floor.

I fall back onto my soft mattress. “Did you kick it down?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around everything that’s just happened.

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