Episode 03: The Day After
The wind ripped through his jacket as Dylan sprinted down the dark street. It was colder than he expected it to be. Then again, he’d never expected the plan to take this long. Out of breath, he darted between lamp posts, avoiding the pools of light given off by the street lamps. In a couple of blocks, he’d be home. He’d slip upstairs to his room, and no one had to know where he had been. He couldn’t help but replay the events of the evening in his mind as he snaked his way down the familiar sidewalks, and as he did, all Dylan could think about was how absolutely nothing had gone to plan.
Caught up in trying to unravel every wrong turn the night had taken, he didn’t notice the shadow step out from behind the tall tree just up ahead. He didn’t see the figure staring back at him until he was nearly toe to toe with them. Craning his neck to look into the face of the black-clad figure, he knew already there was no time to make a run for it. As the man slowly pulled his arm from the pocket of his jacket, Dylan saw his chances of silently sneaking back into the house without his parents noticing slip away in an instant.
He’d never been so glad for every basketball drill his coach had made him practice as he followed his feet, instinctively darting into the middle of the road and into an all-out sprint to his front yard. This was never going to work, he thought to himself, expecting at any second to be ripped to the ground by the giant figure just steps behind him. Dylan could see the porch lights just a few doors away. Heart racing, he bounded down the sidewalk and across the yard faster than any drill he’d ever run. Finally, he rounded the corner to the back steps, wheeling through the air as he grabbed the back door handle, opening, closing, and locking the door behind him in one motion. Peering into the night through the door’s window, Dylan searched for any sign of the man on the street before letting his heart slow and his breathing return to normal.
He was home. He was safe. He’d made it inside, and so far, no one had noticed. Sliding out of his sneakers, he stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water as he went to make his way upstairs. The glass nearly fell from his hands as light filled the kitchen. Turning towards the switch, he saw his mother, sleepy and in her night robe, standing in the kitchen doorway.
A few minutes later, he heaved a sigh of relief as he closed his bedroom door behind him. It had taken some fast talking with his mom, but his explanations had seemed to work well enough to keep him from getting grounded, at least for now. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried to calm his mind. It was just after midnight, and he knew the alarm for early morning practice would come more quickly than he’d want it to. He needed to sleep.
More importantly, at the moment, however, he needed a shower. He didn’t know how his mom had missed the dirt caking his pants or the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, but he was glad she’d been too tired to notice. Peeling off his clothes, he tossed them in the hamper and hoped they wouldn’t draw too much attention when his mom did the laundry. After a quick shower, he fell into bed. He didn’t know whether it was the exhaustion or the stress, but he fell into a fitful sleep.
Sitting at the breakfast table, Dylan listened to the sound of his mom’s coffee brewing on the counter as he tried to figure out what to say to his friends today. Sure, they had agreed never to mention last night, but they weren’t really going to not talk about it, right? He needed to talk about it. The words burned in Dylan’s mouth, begging to roll off his tongue even now. Telling his mom was definitely not an option, and he kept his mouth stuffed with food as he ran out the door to keep himself from saying anything he would regret later.
This was easily the longest day at school that he could remember. In a fog, he wandered from class to class, dying for the last bell to ring. He hadn’t seen his friends all day, and it didn’t seem like he was going to now. Racing home on his bike, he heard the leaves crunch on the sidewalk beneath his tires, and he couldn’t help but think of last night. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t thought of anything but last night the entire day.
Wheeling his bike into the garage, he hoped his mom would believe him when he said he didn’t have any homework. Maybe she would let him play a few rounds of his video game, and he could finally clear his head. That was what he needed; he needed to clear his head. He grabbed a snack and made his way upstairs to his computer. He hadn’t seen his mom and figured she must be out running errands. He let out an internal cheer as this only helped with his afternoon plans.
Dylan’s feet hit the landing at the top of the stairs, and instantly he knew something was wrong. His door was open. All of the doors in the hallway were wide open. The laundry room. The linen closet. The door to the furnace room. All of them stood gaping open. The smell of paint hit his nostrils next as he turned into his room. His carpet was drenched in bright red, wet paint. Noticing the sound of his shower running, Dylan moved quietly into the bathroom, heart in his throat as he crept so quietly he couldn’t hear himself breathe. Steam poured out of the bathroom as he opened the bathroom door and reached to turn off the shower.
At the bottom of the tub were the clothes he had worn last night, soaked. Lifting his eyes to the mirror, he saw a single photo taped to the wide pane of glass. All of the color drained from his face. He didn’t have to look to know what was in the photo. It was him. It was him last night.
Someone had been there. Someone knew what happened in the woods. And someone knew where he was right now.