Lurking

  There was silence before the birds began to sing in fear. Above them, storm clouds rolled in the sky, causing the forest to undergo a dark tone. Lightning bolts striked and thunder screamed accros the forest, threatening to set trees aflame. Squirrels, birds and other animals quickly ran off for shelter once thunder began to echo throughout the valley. It was only a matter of time before the wind would pick up and destroy anything on its path.

None of this mattered, however, to Jack, who continued to run below nothing but a couple of leaves. Jack knew this forest. He had spent more than half of his life exploring it in his free time. It should’ve been a maze to him—the trees all looked exactly alike and there were barely any landmarks. But, he could tell exactly where he was and what way he needed to go to get to his rustic cabin called home. 

The leaves began to sog underneath the pouring rain, no longer providing comfort for Jack. Heavy raindrops soaked through his sweatshirt and jeans, making it more than uncomfortable to continue running. He ducked underneath branches and jumpedd over logs. For once in his life, he was thankful that his father had made him run track when he was a kid.

Dim lights shone through the huge fog. There were only a few hundred yards between Jack and the small cabin when a lightning struck. It didn’t land near him, but it released a bright glow, showing Jack that he wasn’t alone running. 

Within the trees was a man watching Jack run. The rain blurred a lot of his vision so he couldn't catch the man’s face. Once the lightning faded, the man’s silhouette was still visible. But he did not move. 

Jack swerved around a tree and looked back at where the man had been. No one stood there anymore. The boy shrugged, assuming he had imagined the whole thing in his head. Finally, he reached his ratchet fence and jumped right over it, landing with a thud on the ground below. He ran straight into his front door, but came to a stop before he could slip.

The door creaked as it opened, light enveloping the boy’s figure. He smiled at the sight of his mother, curled into herself on their living room couch. It was a flimsy old thing that they had found on the side of the road the day that they were leaving the city. His mother said it was some kind of sign that they had to take it. It was more of a purple lump rather than a couch, but the two of them loved it. 

Jack shut the door quietly behind him, locking it and then proceeding to bolt it shut. Carefully, he slid off his muddy sneakers, dropping them on the floor.

His brown hair fell all over his face, invading his line of sight. Drops fell from it, leaving a small trail behind him as he wobbled into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed an apple from the fruit drawer. He threw the apple into the air, watching it spin a few times before it softly landed back into his palm.

Jack grabbed a knife from a drawer and hummed with happiness as he placed the apple on the counter. He hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and the storm he endured made him ravenous for food. He continued to cut the apple into small pieces popping each one into his mouth. A few minutes passed as Jack ate his apple in bits. He was putting the knife in the sink when a loud bang from behind him startled him.

He turned around quickly and scanned the room. His heart rate had skyrocketed and his hands were shaking. His eyes fell on the door. It was still closed, making him less worried.

“That hallucination must’ve really gotten to me,” he laughed to himself. He looked down at his bare feet, only to look right back up when he heard a groan. “What the—” Jack took slow steps. He creeped over to where his mother was laying on the couch. She was huddled in a ball on the rug that sat beneath the coffee table, holding her head. 

“You alright?” Joey asked, with a humorous tone.

“Fine,” his mother spoke from where she lied. Jack bent down and, helped his mother get up

“Did you shower?” Joey looked at his mother, confused. “You’re all wet.”

He laughed, “There’s a storm outside. Can’t you hear it?” At that exact moment, thunder struck from above, shaking the small cabin. Fear spread through the houes.

“Someone’s at the door,” his mother muttered, staring straight ahead. 

Jack only sighed, lifting her from underneath her arms and placing her back on the couch. 

“No, mom. That’s the storm.”

“It doesn’t rain out here in Hawaii, sweetheart.”

“We don’t live in Hawaii, mom.”

“Let your mother go back to sleep,” was the last thing she said, her voice dropping a few octaves too low. Jack gave up and stood, leaving his mother to sleep her day away on the couch as she usually did.

He made his way back to the counter, where his unfinished apple sat. Biting into it quickly. So fast, he bit his lip Jack walked toward the bathroom at the edge of his cabin. Stepping on the cold tiles, sending shivers down his spine. Rust chipped off the faucet as he twisted the handle. Getting in under the water turned his back numb. CRASH. “What was that?” Jack thought. He stopped showering abruptly, slamming the faucet shut. He tiptoed into the kitchen, bending beneath the counter. He jumped up to see the living room. Glass had shattered all over his gray rug. In the middle lay a red brick. Jack carefully observed the object in his room. He slowly picked the brick up. Flipping it over to the side where in small letters one wrote, “I'm watching you.”