Starless Nights (Hale Brothers Series Book 2) (2 page)

THE HALL IS dark and I run my fingertips down the wall as I tiptoe toward my bedroom. I know I shouldn’t have snuck out, but I promised Leila that I would meet her, and over the last six years I have never broken a promise to her.

When I reach my door, I notice it’s closed. I don’t remember closing the door, and I can’t help but to think that he did this on purpose. He knows I left and wasn’t here. This is his way of letting me know, that he knows, and he’s listening for me.

Leila and I had made plans earlier in the day to meet and ride our bikes down to Bean Point at midnight. In school we were taught about the Quadrantids, the first meteor shower of every year. Usually it can be seen near the Big Dipper. It starts during the last week in December, and it ends sometime in the middle of January.

Stupid me; forgot to leave the ladder outside of my room. Moving it during the night to climb back in through my window would have made too much noise, so instead I went in and out of Drew’s. He doesn’t care that I sneak out; he just worries that I’ll get caught.

Slowly, quietly, and very carefully, my shaking hand stills to turn the knob and open my bedroom door.
What if he is on the other side of the door just waiting for me?
Sweat breaks out across my forehead from the anxiety—and the fear of what might come.

Gritting my teeth, I crack the door, peak inside, and see that it’s empty. A small sigh of relief escapes me and a drop of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. I don’t want him to hear any clicks or squeaks so I push the door open just wide enough to slip by it, moving as slowly as possible.

Once in my room, I gently close the door, throw on my pajamas, and head straight for the closet.

The closet should be the safest place, I think to myself, and I hide behind the shirts hung on the bottom. Trying to get settled, I bump into the hangers and they scrape across the bar. Reality tells me that the noise wasn’t loud, but every muscle has locked up, and an uncontrollable panic has taken over.

Did he hear me?

My hands clench into fists, my eyes squeeze shut, breathing is difficult, and every part of me is shaking.

Did I wake him?

My heart is pounding so wildly, it’s beating all over my body. I feel it in my chest, in my stomach, in my fingers and toes, and in my ears. It’s thumping so hard, it’s drowning out the whistling of the white noise that is the night.

I need to calm down . . . I need to escape. Sitting on my hands—I go to that place—that place in my mind where everything that’s around me shuts out and drifts away.

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.

With my lips moving and nothing coming out, I repeat this in my mind over and over until my heart begins to slow.

My wish is always the same, and that’s to be with her.

The summer that I met Leila, was the summer I fell in love with the stars . . . and with her. Looking back, there’s no doubt in my mind that’s exactly what was happening, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Night after night, we would gaze up at the stars, yell out the childhood rhyme, and make up as many wishes as we could.

Opening my eyes, light peaks in from the crack of the door. I didn’t close it all the way and the moonlight from the window illuminates the room.

Times passes, I’m not sure how much, but it doesn’t matter. Fear keeps me tucked back into this corner. Wondering if I should just climb into my bed and go to sleep, I lean forward and peak through the crack of the closet door to look around the room and see if anything looks out of place. I glance toward the window and I’m surprised to see that the night sky is pitch black. Other than the moon, it’s a starless night.

Where are the stars? I need to see the stars!

The stars always make me feel better. Did they disappear? How did they disappear? They were there a little while ago. Bad things always happen on starless nights. Leila and I both commented just a little bit ago on how bright and how many there were.

My heart rate calms a little as I think of Leila. She is my bright star. She always sparkles and shines. I will never again be able to think about the stars and not think about her.

The tree outside of my window sways in the breeze breaking the streaks of moonlight causing shadows to be cast around the room.

I follow the light of the moon as it shines into one corner of my room. Sitting there is my mother. When did she get there? Why is she here? Why isn’t she moving? My heart begins to race again, and I almost jump up to go to her. Something isn’t right. Looking closer, her head is tilted backward a little and her eyes are open but she isn’t blinking. Blood is running from her head, down the side of her face, and dripping onto her shirt. I continue to stare at her, but she never moves. My whole body is back to shaking. Is she dead?

Something hits the wall out in the hallway and I gasp a little too loudly, while jerking back further into the closet pulling my legs up and hiding my face in my knees.

He’s coming! I know it.

The fear in me now lengthens its grasp, and its fingers slowly begin to slide their way up my legs, over my knees, down to my waist, and straight up my back to my neck. It squeezes and I can’t breathe.

I woke him. He’s coming for me; of this I am certain. I listen for the creaks in the wood floor as they would adjust to accommodate his weight.

Time passes. Seconds, minutes, hours, I just don’t know. I’ve lost the ability to think coherently. Focusing on what I might hear, I listen until there are no more creaks and no more sounds.

Instead, I smell the familiar heaviness of smoke. Lifting my head from my knees, I open my eyes and they instantly burn from the cloud that has filled my little closet. Panic fills me and I kick open the closet door forgetting that I’m supposed to be quiet. Most people have that one thing that fills them with an irrational fear, and aside from my father, for me it’s fire.

The alarm bells in my head are screaming.

The house is on fire!
I have to get out of here!

Jumping out of the closet, I gasp at the sight of my room. The fire’s flames are completely surrounding my bed and the door. Fear of the fire causes me to freeze. I don’t know where to look or what to do. My eyes are darting all around my room and that’s when I see her. Leila is sitting in the middle of my bed.

When did she get here? How did she get here? Did she follow me home?

She is staring at me and fidgeting with her fingers, but she isn’t moving. Why isn’t she moving?

“Leila! You need to get out of here!” I yell at her.

Her eyes are swollen and red. She’s been crying and I don’t know why.

“Leila?” she isn’t responding to me.

What do I do?

The heat from the flames is intensifying and it’s like she doesn’t even see them. The fire stretches throughout the room, and if I didn’t know any better I would think that the walls are moving in on me. It’s like they are closer, pushing in on me, wanting to suffocate me.

I don’t understand! Something here isn’t right.

Instantaneously, the flames around the bed grow larger and higher. I duck my face into my shoulder to not get burned. They are crackling, hissing, and slicing through the air. The heat from them is so overwhelming, my skin has started to burn and my heart beats erratically. On my arms, blisters are beginning to form, and tears burst from my eyes at the intense pain that they are causing.

In the background I hear a small cry. It’s Matt’s cry. Looking over to the corner where my mother is, she’s no longer there. When did she leave the room? Was I still in the closet? How did I not notice her leaving, and why didn’t she take me with her? Why isn’t she going after Matt? He’s only seven. He shouldn’t be in his room crying!
Where is everyone?

I try to move but can’t. The sheer terror that is ripping through me has left me completely immobile. My feet are stuck to the floor. I can’t lift them no matter how hard I try.

What do I do? I try to come up with a plan on how we can escape, but all I can focus on is that we are going to burn to death. The tears running down my face feel cool next to the fire.

Matt’s cries get louder and he starts yelling for someone to help him. I need to go to him, but if I do, what happens to Leila? Suddenly, I realize that I am being made to choose. I have to choose between saving her or him. My tears turn to sobs.

This isn’t a punishment or torture. This is life and death, one that will be on my hands and conscience forever.

The sootiness of the smoke has coated my nose and my mouth. I can’t catch my breath, breathing becomes hard and shallow, and the dizziness sets in distorting the room more than it already is.

Images of Matt flash before me on the smoke and play out like old home movies. He’s running around on the beach chasing the seagulls, he’s lying on the bed listening to me read about Greek mythology, and he’s smiling at me when he sees the pair of binoculars that I gave him just as an everyday random gift. Matt never smiles so that day, my heart swelled at his happiness.

“Beau . . . ,” Leila says to me calmly. Through the flames surrounding the bed, my eyes snap and lock onto hers. Tears are now rolling down her face. “Go. Forget me.”

“What? I don’t want to go, Leila! I could never forget you. Please! Wrap up in the blanket and get off of the bed. We have to get out of here!” I’m begging and pleading with her but she doesn’t move.

From behind me I hear the bedroom door swing open. Relief floods through me because someone is here to save us—and then I hear him laugh.

It’s this laugh that has become the focal point of all my nightmares and all my fears. It’s evil, sinister, conniving, vengeful, and possessive. It affects every cell in my body. I know that when I hear this laugh, bad things and pain are to come. I think again about the starless night.

“Tsk tsk tsk Beau. Did you really think that I was going to let you have her? You belong to me and you do what I say. She is a distraction and distractions must be removed and eliminated.” I can’t look at him, I just can’t. Keeping my eyes on Leila, I see him walk through the fire and toward the bed. Why isn’t he getting burned? Or is he and he just doesn’t care? His purpose is me—that’s why he’s here.

Matt’s cries are now loud and hysterical. He starts screaming from pain not fear, and I know that the fire has reached him. My heart is slamming so hard in my chest that it hurts and my fingers are tingling.

“Matt…” I whisper out glancing toward the door. More tears run down my face and my body feels like it is cracking and breaking from grief. I didn’t save him. He is burning to death.

My father stops next to the bed, looks over to me, and with a vindictive smirk he says, “He was never wanted and won’t be missed. He was a mistake and an unwelcome one at that. Don’t you see? This fire was the perfect solution. I can get rid of so many but don’t worry . . . I’m keeping you.” The laugh returns and Matt’s cries stop.

I’m in such a state of shock that the vision before me moves in slow motion. My father whips out my tennis racket from behind his back, raises it over his head, and forcefully brings it down on Leila.

“NO!”

My hands shoot out in front of me, reaching for her, but my feet still won’t move. Over and over, he beats her and her piercing screams fill every tiny space in my head. I can think of nothing but her screaming and how I have failed her too.

Dropping to the floor, I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. He’s killing her and I’m not doing anything to stop him. Rocking back and forth, my head finally hits the floor. The heat, the smoke, the terror, the helplessness, the surrender, it has all consumed me.

They’re all dying and it’s all my fault. I’ve failed them . . .

“God, please take me too . . .”

BOOM!