We Become the Night
Chapter 3:

Homework? Check. Dinner? Check. Hell? Double Check

The bus ride home is rather uneventful. I find out from Cole that Patrick got detention. I lift my eyes skyward and silently thank whatever powers that be that he finally got some type of punishment. Cole is in Patrick’s last class, and he tells me that Patrick was called down to the detention class before the end of the class period. It turns out that not only did someone see what he did to me at my locker this morning, but he also mouthed off to a teacher and shoved down a junior high student which resulted in the kid’s glasses being broken. I can relate; that’s happened to me more than once. The principal has had enough, and consequently, Patrick got a full week’s detention.

At least something went right today, I tell myself.

I spend the bus ride listening to music through my headphones from my cell phone.

The bus drops us off at our stop, down the street from our house. Cole and I walk home in silence. Not for any real reason except we don’t really have anything to say at the moment.

We walk into the house and see Mother sitting on the couch. She’s watching her afternoon shows. She really likes Gilmore Girls and is rewatching the series for the millionth time. I smile as I see her and think that she deserves to be able to relax a bit, at least once in a while. She looks up at us as we’re taking our shoes and backpacks off.

“Hey boys. How was school?” she asks, pausing the television. Cole smiles at her and I just shake and hang my head. I don’t feel like going through the day with her. I’m just exhausted and ready for this day to be finished.

“Cal? Hunny? What’s wrong?” Mom asks me. I sigh and know that there’s nothing I can say or do to get my mom to drop the issue. So, I just walk slowly to the couch and sit down with her. Cole, knowing I wouldn’t want an audience, quietly goes upstairs to start his homework.

As I sit down with Mom, I really don’t know where to start. When I voice this to her, she says what she always says, to just start at the beginning. So that’s what I do. I start telling her about the day I’ve had from nearly missing the bus to Patrick’s many instances to the classes I messed up in. By the time I’m done, I just feel hollow and empty instead of better. Mom doesn’t interrupt and instead holds me to her side and lets me finish. When the words have finally run their course and there are tears running down my face, she squeezes my shoulder, kisses my forehead, and tells me something that never fails to make me feel better.

“Cal, I love you. You are a gifted boy whose intelligence will always have others expect things from you. Your father and I only expect one thing and that’s that you’re honest with us. As long as you are always truthful, with us, with yourself, or with a significant other, you will find that those in your life are worth having there.” Then she said something she’s not said before, but made me feel great, nonetheless.

“Besides, that Patrick kid is a right little arsehole.” Her British heritage shows through in that little instance with her voice thickening to have a slight accent. That brings a surprise laugh from me.

“Now, go on upstairs and get your homework done. I’ll start dinner. How do you feel about your favorite?” I nod, giving her a watery smile.

I grab my bag from the front door and head upstairs, visions of my mom’s casserole dancing in my head. Upstairs, I toss my book bag onto my bed and follow it by leaping on the center of the bed. I unzip my bag and pull out my science and math books. I’m thankful I don’t have too much homework, especially considering that I crashed and burned during class today.

I’m working so diligently that I don’t notice an hour has passed. I’m finishing up my last question for Chemistry, having already finished my Calculus, when a knock on the door makes me jump and yelp. I get my heart rate under control and call out that the door is open. Cole opens the door, and he walks in giggling.

“You heard that, didn’t you,” I ask him, my eyes narrowing. He nods, still chuckling too much to answer. My eyes narrow further, but before I can say anything, he tells me that dinner is ready. I finish the last few words I needed to write for Chemistry and put my books, notebooks, and homework back in my bag. I hop up from my bed and follow Cole out the door and downstairs.

We get to the table, and Father is already there, having just gotten home roughly fifteen minutes ago. He gives me an encouraging smile as I sit in my chair. No doubt Mother has told him all about what happened. I return his smile in earnest. Thanks to Mother and the hour I had to cool off, I’m feeling much better now, than I have all day.

As Mother sets the casserole down in the middle of the table, I take a large whiff of steam coming off the dish. I inhale the mouthwatering scent of beef, tomato, mushrooms, and pasta. Ever since I was little, this has been my favorite comfort food. Mother sits down and we all dig in. Just tasting that wonderful mix has the tension of the day just rolling off my back. No one really speaks as we’re all too busy eating, and all that can be heard is the clink of silverware on plates.

We’re all so hungry that we finish off the entire casserole. Mother smiles, Father leans back in his chair and pats his belly, Cole is scraping the plate to get the last little bit of sauce, and I’m just grateful that I have such a wonderful family.

“Thank you, Mom. That was really wonderful,” I say to her as she stands to clear the table. She smiles at me and nods. In silent agreement, we all get up from the table. Father goes to the living room, and Cole and I go to the sink where Mother has just put the last of the dishes. She hugs us both and goes to join Father in the living room. Cole and I get to work washing the dishes; Cole washes and I rinse and dry.

Once we’re done, we join our parents in the living room and plop down on the couch. Father is getting Netflix set up on the television. He scrolls down to “Resume Watching” and selects the next episode of Supernatural. We watch it together every night together.

The four of us laugh our asses off at the funny antics of the Winchester brothers. Cole actually snorts as Dean is barking at the mailman and swearing at birds, but the show ends far too soon and now it is time for bed. After all, as Mother and Father are quick to remind us, it is a school night.

Cole and I head upstairs to our respective rooms, get dressed for bed and snuggle in for, what I fervently hope, is a peaceful night’s sleep.

I’m at school and for some reason they are all laughing at me. Not the normal “you’re a dork” laughter that I’m familiar with, but a cruel, malicious, even evil laughter. Everyone in the school, including Mr. Smithin and even the janitor is pointing and laughing. The room we’re in, the gymnasium from the looks of it, starts to spin around me with the faces of the students and staff blurring together. At first, it’s slow, then, gradually, it picks up speed. Faster and faster, it spins when suddenly from far down the hall, I hear a loud crash and screaming. The screaming is getting louder; the room is spinning faster. I hear growling and snarling and snapping jaws. Suddenly, just when I think I’m going to throw up from motion sickness, the spinning and noise stops. I look down at my hands, but my hands aren’t there. In their place I have two massive paws with long, lethal claws jutting out from the front of them. I open my mouth to scream and a howl comes out. I look across the gymnasium and see the yellow eyes from my nightmare a few nights ago. They’re getting bigger as though they are getting closer, but don’t seem to be connected to anything, just eyes in the darkness. They rush me, getting within a few inches of my face, and then...

And then I shoot up in bed, dripping with sweat. Just a dream, I tell myself. I’m fumbling for my glasses on my bedside table and as I grab them to put them on, I hear a crash. It sounds like the one from my dream. I slowly get out of bed and creep to the door. I inch the door open, careful not to open it too much lest it squeak on its hinges. From my small sliver of door space, I see a dark shadow moving around in the hall. It’s massive, but I can’t make out what it is. Suddenly, as if the massive shadow can sense my presence, the enormous head whips around to face me. I can’t see anything beyond shadows, but I manage to notice two yellow eyes staring at me thanks to the moonlight of the full moon filtering in from the open door of my brother’s room. I barely have time to register the fact that his door shouldn’t be open when the shadow pounces at me. I let out a long, loud scream before everything goes black.

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