Jackie
I wake up to the light of my laptop screen beaming onto my face. I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but it’s long enough for me to feel disoriented and dehydrated. It’s dark outside, so it has to be night. I’ve fallen asleep at my desk again. The first thing I do is check the vents. The heater is going full blast, but I feel colder than I’ve ever felt. My mind jumps a bit.
Where’s Jackie?
My laptop illuminates the room in a stale off-white glow, so I close it before walking over to the door. The back of my head aches in long, dull streaks. I flip the light switch, but nothing happens. The door creaks open as if the hinges were rusted—they’ve never made that noise before. I flap the door a few times, but it doesn’t creak again. I walk through the hallway to the living room. The house is all dark, Jackie isn’t here. I try the light switches in this room and nothing happens. Must be a blackout. My hand reaches into my pajama pocket for my phone, but it’s not there, I must have put in on the desk while I was working. There’s movement out of the corner of my eye, in the hallway, and I turn towards it. The dark house creaks and the hallway looks empty.
“Jackie?” I call towards the movement. No response. I inch closer. “Jackie?” I called again. Nothing. I need to see Jackie. I need to make sure she’s okay. I need my phone. I wait there for a moment—for whatever was moving to come into view, but it doesn’t—then slowly, as quietly as I can, I walk back to my office. My phone isn’t there. Did I leave it in the bedroom? The hallway seems darker now than a second ago. Memory allows me to find the bedroom, but I still hold my hand along the wall as I move just to make sure I don’t run into anything. I try the light switch here, more out of habit than hope, and the bulb flashes three faint, pale illuminations before it sizzles out and the room recedes into darkness. I hear something move and I jump, falling backwards into the hallway. A pitter-patter moves closer to me and, focusing my eyes, I see the outline of a creature, small in size, but monstrous in demeanor. It makes a noise and jumps into my lap.
“Darrell,” I say as Jackie’s cat rubs its face against mine and purrs affectionately. Darrell has never done this before. The most affection I’ve gotten from Jackie’s yellow-eyed, black cat in the four years that we’ve been dating is that I found him sleeping on me one morning while Jackie was away on a business trip. But, the moment he realized I was awake, he hissed, scratched me in the face, and ran off.
I get up as Darrell winds between my legs and use my hands to navigate the bedroom. If my phone was anywhere, it would be on the nightstand on my side of the bed. I paw at the small wooden table, but there’s no phone. I open a window, trying to let in some light and the room brightens a bit. I look outside and the sky is filled with clouds—dark and stormy. The air smells of rain and an electricity runs across my senses. I want to see the moon. I feel like I’ve done this before. The sudden urge to escape the house comes over me. Maybe its cabin fever from so many hours of work? I wasn’t in the house yesterday, I had gone to the jewelers for the engagement…Where is Jackie? I need to find Jackie.
Darrell meows again, he’s standing at the doorway, looking at me, his eyes glowing ever so slightly. I realize that he probably hasn’t been fed today. That could explain the affection. He leads me towards the kitchen.
The fridge opens with a sigh. Cool air hits my face and I realize that I’ve been sweating. The individual beads get colder against the refrigerator air. The light doesn’t come on, I remember the black out. I grab the cat food, close the fridge, and empty the can into Darrell’s bowl. He meows in thanks before devouring the meal. I need Jackie—need to find Jackie. I realize that my phone might be on the couch in the living room—memories of waking up in the middle of the night to a movie I never started flash across my mind. I slowly find my way there and the phone is sitting alone on the couch. It lights up as I press the home button and a feeling of relief washes over me. I call Jackie. The phone rings once, twice, and in the middle of the third ring Jackie picks up. I hear her fumble around with it before she answers. “Hello?” Jackie’s voice is just like I remember. “Hello?”
“Jackie, where are you? Shouldn’t you be home by now?”
“Who is this?” Jackie says again. She sounds tired. “This number isn’t…Tim?” Her voice cuts out for a moment. I repeat myself, but to no avail. “Who is this?” No matter how hard I try, she can’t hear me. “No…impossible…” The signal is choppy so I hang up and try to call her again, but there’s no signal—the line won’t connect. I’m frustrated, more frustrated than I think I should be. I talked to Jackie this morning and it’s not that late. I need Jackie now—need to know where she is, yes. I pocket the cell and walk back to the kitchen. Darrell has finished his food and is looking at me, tilting his head. He meows repeatedly as if trying to talk. I smile at him and pet him for a bit before walking back to my office. Maybe I can message her through my laptop. Suddenly, as I’m walking down the hallway, I hear the roar of a large animal and feel the house trembles for a moment. It’s all over so quick, I barely know whether it really happened or not. I shake my head, I must be more tired than I think I am. I open my laptop, enter my password, and my messages window is already open. Jackie’s been texting me from her phone.
Tim don’t leave.
Why did it have to be this way?
I don’t know what to do without you.
Am I crazy? Thinking you’ll respond?
These messages don’t make sense. I saw her this morning, she knows where I am. I’m home, in our house, I haven’t gone anywhere. I even passed out at my desk like always. Why doesn’t she think I’ll respond? I know I’m not the best at checking my phone, but I’ve gotten a lot better.
My phone vibrates. A voicemail from Jackie. Weird, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a voicemail from her. “Tim…I…will be home…late…please feed…Darrell and…don’t wait…” This message makes more sense, but Jackie sounds weird, almost robotic. Why was she going to be late? Did I forget something? Maybe she was meeting up with one of her friends. I try to call Jackie again. It gets through to her, but she still can’t hear me. I sigh with frustration as Darrell comes sauntering into the room. I don’t feel comfortable about Jackie, but she seems okay—she doesn’t sound like she’s in trouble at least. I sit down in front of my laptop and minimize the messages window. Darrell jumps onto my lap, expecting a scratch. I reciprocate as something on my desktop catches my eye. A document titled: READ IMMEDIATELY. I open it and there are five short sentences listed:
Jackie’s not here.
You should go now.
The feeling’s been twisted.
Don’t let it out.
You can’t let it out.
Darrell meows rudely to signal his dissatisfaction. Who wrote this? I feel myself panic, my blood pumping faster, my breath getting shorter. Does it have anything to do with the phone problems? The lights? Where Jackie is? I need Jackie. My head starts to hurt and my vision blurs for a second. I need Jackie. I need to give her the ring. I need to tell her…
The hallway floor creaks and it feels like the house is swaying in the wind. I feel something watching me and I freeze. The hairs on my back rise and sweat breaks from my pores. I stare down, trying to make it out in the reflection of my screen. A large black mass stands in the doorway, but when I try to focus in on it, there’s nothing. It’s gone. I get up, letting Darrell jump off my lap. Grabbing my keys off the desk, I rush to the front door. I’m still shaking. I try to turn the knob, but it won’t move. The door won’t budge. It’s not locked—I twist the deadbolt a couple of times just to make sure. Pulling at the door with all my strength doesn’t even shift it in the slightest. Doors regularly give a little, even if they’re locked, but this one doesn’t. I look out the peephole, but there’s nothing obstructing its path. I run to the backyard, the sliding doors open quickly and smoothly, but when I get to the fence, I encounter the same problem as with the front door. Eventually, I grab a chair from the dining table and climb over the fence. I slip on my way over and crash onto the driveway.
I reach the car, get into the driver’s seat, and suddenly the animal roars again. I duck under the dashboard and peek out, just enough to look around. There’s nothing. I turn the key and the car sputters for a second before dying with a weak sizzle. Dead battery? I drove to the supermarket this morning. I try a couple more times, but it won’t start. I jump out of the car and kick one of the wheels in frustration. I contemplate running to Jackie’s workplace, fifteen miles through west coast suburbia and a small shopping center. Would she even be there? She said she would be home late, she must be out with a friend or something. Wind forces trees to sway in the clouded sky and I shiver in the cold. There are no lights on in the house across from ours. I look around and the street lights are also out. The voicemail continues to worry me. I rush down the driveway towards the wide residential street, but suddenly freeze, stopped in my tracks. A grasping, suffocating sense of fear overwhelms me. I see the darkness from the street close in around me and I start to shake. I strike my legs, trying to get them to move, but my body refuses to step onto the sidewalk. I hear that split-second roar again and the next thing I know I’m walking through the front door. It’s no longer obstructed. I examine it, but there’s nothing around that could have kept it from opening before. No broken piece, no blockage, nothing. I twist the doorknob a couple of times and open and close it a few times before going back to my office.
There must be a clue here—maybe another document, one that’s less cryptic. I open up my laptop again and look around the desktop, but there’s nothing. In fact, even the “READ IMMEDIATELY” document is gone. I look for it in every folder just in case it had somehow moved, but there’s no record of it ever existing. Did someone delete it? Who? There wasn’t anyone else in the house.
Darrell meows and I realize he’s standing in between my legs again, purring contently. I recall the feeling of being watched and feel a chill run down my spine. I need to reach Jackie, but nothing in this damn house works. Darrell follows me as I march into the kitchen and flip the light switch up and down furiously until, suddenly, the ceiling lights begins to flicker and give off a dim, eerie glow. I think I see several things move away from this light all at once, but I feel as if my eyes are playing tricks on me.
The light is irritating. I wash my face in the sink as the feeling of being watched creeps up on me again. I try to turn slowly to see what it is, but suddenly there is movement right next to me. I jump back and trip, collapsing onto the kitchen floor. It’s Darrell, trying to get my attention. I think I’m going crazy. I need Jackie. I need to hear her voice, see her face. What does her face look like again? I’ve been in here so long… What am I talking about? I saw her this morning. I went to the grocery store this morning. I shake my head and Darrell rubs his body up against my legs, meowing as if he’s trying to talk.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask Darrell as he climbs into my lap. I pet him a bit. He purrs with satisfaction. Something is wrong with me and every fiber of my being says that if I see Jackie, everything will be fine. Suddenly, I hear a knock from beneath me. I freeze, but silence follows and I think it might just be a mix of my fear and imagination. I stand up and hear the knocking again. This time it’s four distinctive knocks. The basement, that’s the only thing below me. Jackie and I locked up the basement months ago in preparation for the winter, there’s nothing down there. I shake my head and try to ignore the knocking, but it won’t let me. Three more knocks.
I go into the garage. Thank god that door isn’t stuck. I look for a flashlight, something I should have done first, but now is better than never. The light won’t turn on and I fumble through the drawers in the dark, feeling around for a cylinder with a button. I finally find it, but its light is weak and flickering. I keep it anyway—could be useful.
I walk out into the backyard, where the doors to the basement are. The sky is no longer clear; storm clouds are gathering and an angry wind blows above me. I can hear the knocking outside the door and it’s getting louder. As I pry the doors open, I pray that this isn’t some practical joke Jackie is playing on me. The wind gets stronger, causing the wooden basement doors to flap wildly. I rush into the basement just as the doors slam shut behind me.
I wait and let my eyes adjust, not wanting to waste what little battery I have in the flashlight, then proceed down the stairs. It’s so cold down here, I wish I had gotten a jacket. The knocking gets progressively louder with the intervals getting shorter. I walk to the center of the basement and grab onto the pull switch for the hanging bulb, the only light in the basement. I don’t think it’ll turn on, but I might as well try. The light comes on, clear and bright, right as I see it: a tarp covering a large cube-shaped thing, the knocking is coming from this object.
It becomes more furious and constant in reaction to the light. The sound is mind-numbing and it slows my approach towards the cube. I need Jackie. Where is Jackie. My thoughts are running wild, overburdened like a fit of ringing rippling anxiety. I need to give her the ring. The knocking gets louder still. I grab ahold of the tarp and take a deep breath before I pull it down. The lightbulb suddenly burns out and the knocking stops. Fear washes away my thoughts as my eyes try to adjust to the sudden darkness.
The cube underneath the tarp looks like a cage. I see something large moving inside. One of its eyes glows yellow like a cat’s, but this is not a cat. For a split second, it feels familiar. My mind begins to run again. Thoughts only about Jackie, the ring. I need to give her the ring. The thoughts coalesce into a loud chorus that rises up inside my head. The ground begins to shake as the beast begins a low growl. Where is Jackie? I freeze on instinct, but it already sees me, it knows me. The growling turns to snarls and the monster begins to gnash its teeth. I need Jackie. I need Jackie. The monster bites at the cage and the metal bars dissolve underneath the pressure of its jaw. Jackie! Jackie!
Fear breaks inside of me and I scramble out of the basement and slam the doors behind me, leaning my body on top of them to catch my breath. Just then, I feel a push against the doors from within the basement. I brace against the wooden doors and hope my weight can keep whatever’s down there away from me while my right hand scrambles to find the lock I left at the foot of the doors. The monster stops, paces, growls a bit—I need Jackie—and then pushes against the doors again. It’s strong, and it takes everything I have to keep it from breaking loose.
The beast knows it’s winning and attacks the doors. Each time it smacks against the tattered wood, I see its eyes shining in between the slats. It stops again and I take this moment to slide down, grab the lock, and secure the basement. It runs up and strikes the doors again, but the lock holds. I jump up as the beast emits a piercing growl. The wooden doors shake from the reverberation and I know they won’t hold. Fear tells me I need to run, but I don’t. This monster is connected to me, to Jackie. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and think of her.
“Tim! Tim!” It’s Jackie’s voice. I hear the front door slam behind her and the lights go on in the kitchen. “Tim!”
“Here,” I call from the backyard. I looked down and the basement doors have been flung open, but there’s nothing, the beast is gone. I hear Jackie move through the house and I drop to my knees like a rag doll as all of the tension in my body releases at once. I look up at the blackened, cloudy sky and suddenly I am opening my eyes.
“Tim! Tim wake up!” Jackie is looking down at me, my head in her hands. I must have blacked out.
“Jackie,” I touch her face and kiss her, she’s cold, so cold.
“Well, hello to you too,” Jackie says. “What were you doing out here? It’s gonna rain tonight.” Her voice always did calm me down.
“Oh…yeah,” I get up with her help and we walk towards the house. I can’t stop looking at her, but for a moment, I’m not sure this is what she looks like. It’s been so long since…Since? Since this morning?
“Are you alright?” she asks. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“Yeah, I’m good” I respond with a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? Where have you been?”
“I stopped by Danette’s on the way home. Marcus just broke up with her and she isn’t taking it well.”
“So that’s what it was,” I’m holding her hand like we used to do ever so long ago, she’s freezing cold, but I don’t want to let go.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You just passed out in the backyard.” Jackie asks as we slump down onto the sofa together.
“Now that you’re home, I’m as good as can be.”
Darrell approaches the couch and Jackie smiles. “There’s my baby boy! Come over here.” She tries to pick him up, but Darrell hisses at her and scratches at her hands. “Ow!” she almost roars.
“Weird,” I say. “He loves you.”
“Yeah,” she says begrudgingly. “He usually does.”
“He’s been acting weird all day today.”
“I’m gonna go take a shower before I bandage this up,” she says. “It’s been a tiring day.”
I smile and nod. “Alright, well I’m gonna do some more work and then I’ll come to bed.” The ring is in my desk drawer, I need to give it to her. Propose. It’s been too long.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Jackie asks. “We can shower together.” She gives me her sexy eyes. I smile, but I need to get the ring.
“Just a little longer,” I say, “then I’ll join you.”
“You sure?” Jackie asks. “Why not just start fresh tomorrow?” Her voice feels strange, but I insist. “Okay,” she relents, “just don’t take too long.” She smiles wickedly, flips her hair seductively, and then skips to the shower.
I walk to my office and notice my hands are shivering, the cold from Jackie still hasn’t left them. My body’s trembling too, but I shake my head. It’s over now, Jackie is home, I can finally do it. The light from my laptop is illuminating the room. I was sure I closed the screen, but I guess I didn’t. How long has it been on? I reach into one of the office cabinets, grab the ring box, and spin around—in a rush to get to Jackie. Darrell is in the doorway, playing with a blanket of some kind in the dark. It looks familiar, but I can’t recall ever having seen such a large and dirty thing. As I touch the blanket, I realize it’s the tarp from the basement. My hands jolt back and a rush of dread grabs ahold of me.
It’s in the house.
I feel weak in my knees and grab ahold of my desk to keep myself standing. It got out. The basement doors were open. It must have gotten out. Jackie. Where is Jackie? I need Jackie. The laptop screen catches my eye. A document is open, but it isn’t mine. It has three words on the page, just three words. I pull the screen closer to my face hoping the words will change, but they don’t change. I feel my heart beating into my ears. The strength leaves my arms and I drop to my knees, letting the laptop and the ring box fall out of my hands. I sit there, fully frozen, as Darrell looks up at me and meows sympathetically. He gets up and presses his body up against my arm.
A small glint catches my eye, the ring box is open with the engagement ring sitting in the velvet crease, ready to present itself. The ring looks different. I bring it closer. The metal’s lost its shine, even rusted in some places. The diamond has turned yellow, tarnished, eroded. It looks familiar. The beast’s eye—its pale-yellow hue. The sound of the shower stops, the house go completely dark, but I can still see its glowing yellow eye.
