Nightmare AirBNB (Part 4)
I woke up with a start, heart pounding in my throat. No sooner had I opened my eyes than I wished I hadn't. Someone crouched over my little brother as he slept. And it wasn't one of my parents. It was someone large, too large. Thin, purple-brown skin stretched taut across bones that poked at sharp angles. Dark, purple-bruised looking lips parted for a black tongue to lick at them and the black teeth beneath.
There was a disgusting smell in the air that I can only describe as being like the time we went to an AirBNB and they hadn't cleaned their pool. It was full of decaying leaves, mold, and a dead raccoon. It made me sick to my stomach.
I wanted to scream, run, disappear into the couch. But I was frozen like a rabbit with my heart about to burst. Simon stirred in his sleep, a yawning whisper of nonsense escaping. And suddenly the black giant stood straight up, the back of its bony head nearly bashing into the ceiling. It was impossibly silent as it moved. I heard nothing but some muttering in a freakishly high voice as it slithered back down the spiral stairs.
"She always does this to me. Always. But she won't get it. I won't let it go."
All faded into silence shortly after the sound of a door closing and locking echoed up the stairs. I lay there in silence, willing my heart to stop pounding in my chest, willing my voice to come back so I could call out for my parents. But I was so scared that I couldn't do anything but silently cry tears that burned in my nose and throat.
I didn't remember falling asleep. I couldn't imagine feeling safe enough. But I guess there was only so long I could lay there, frozen in fear, before exhaustion took over. Or... and this felt more likely after I thought about it more, I hadn't been awake. After the stress of the evening before, maybe I'd just had a nightmare. Simon seemed fine when I woke up. He was talking with Dad at the dining room table while they ate breakfast.
We were going to the State Fair that day and Simon was chattering happily about all the rides he wanted to go on and all things he wanted to eat. I folded up the blankets I'd slept with and listened, letting the fear and stress from the night before slip away. In the daylight, everything felt normal again. We'd just been startled by a loud party downstairs and panicked. And I'd had a nightmare. I could barely remember it and I stopped trying as I sat down at the table next to Dad.
I reached for a bagel and started spreading cream cheese on it. Dad was being indulgent with Simon and letting him go on and on while just smiling and nodding. I hadn't heard Mom come down the stairs but suddenly she said, "You're not eating any of that, Simon Donnegar. You'll get fat and then how will you run away from the things you imagine going bump in the night?"
She sounded exhausted and mean and I looked up at her sharply. Simon's face crumpled slightly and I redirected him downstairs to get ready to go while Mom and Dad started bickering. Dad called her out for her nastiness, calling her Patricia over and over. She spat back something about it not really being his business, right? I pulled Simon into my room with me and slammed the door loudly. I wanted them to stop.
Simon's eyes went wide and he looked like he might laugh. He must have been proud of me for that bold slam since normally that would get me into a lot of trouble. This time, all I think I did was make them angrier with each other. Their voices escalated until we could hear them basically screaming.
"I don't know what's wrong with them," he said and made himself comfortable on the bed, thumbing through the copy of CosmoGirl I'd sneaked along with me. "Ew, girls are gross," he said and tossed the magazine aside.
I was too busy listening to our parents' shouting match to really care that he was being rough with my things. I was trying to hear the words, focusing. So much so that when something banged loudly against the wall, I nearly jumped out of my skin!
Simon startled too with a loud gasp. He scrambled off the bed to my side and again, his fingers were so cold as they wrapped around my wrist.
"What was that?" he whispered shakily.
This was getting annoying. "That party downstairs is out of control. That's what," I said and threw open the bedroom door.
And nearly smacked chest first into an old woman. I was so surprised that I sputtered out an apology instantly. The woman looked so confused and Simon, behind me, asked, "Who is that, Rena?"
The old woman took a few steps back and glanced upward toward the sound of our parents' continued fighting. She put a hand to her heart and looked at me.
"I am so sorry," she said. "I think I might be lost? Can you help me?"
"How did you get in here?" I asked, wondering how our parents hadn't seen her come through the door. They must have really been angry with each other.
The woman, who looked like she had just woken up, wearing a nightgown, her white hair a mussed mess on one side of her head, simply smiled at me. I thought she wasn't going to say anything else but then she spoke again.
"Do you know my Millie?" she asked.
Her Millie? Oh no, Millie had a very confused relative. She must have thought this was Millie's place. I still didn't have my phone back from Dad yet and, even if I had it, I didn't know Millie's number. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to walk this poor, fragile woman through a fight. But she couldn't just stay down there with us either. My stomach twisted in a knot and that made me even more annoyed with my parents.
Behind me, I could hear Simon whisper, "What is that smell?"
I hadn't noticed it at first. It was faint but seemed to grow. I'd smelled it before. In my nightmare about the large, purple-brown creature that had leaned over Simon. That dead animal, dirty pool smell.
The old woman was smiling patiently, sweetly even. "Do you know my Millie?" she asked again but her voice had a more firm quality to it than it had a moment ago.
To my left, I could see that the storage closet that had been locked was now wide open. The darkness beyond it was complete thanks to there being no windows on that side of the condo. Instinctively I took a step back and bumped squarely into Simon who made a sound of protest.
The woman stepped closer to me. Her eyes were so weird. I could see them even better once she was close. They were almost opaque with no pupils, a disgusting milky dark green. She seemed to be breathing deeply, like she was trying to sniff us out. What in the world?
"I know Millie. She doesn't live here," I said, pushing Simon backward and trying to close the door between us and the woman.
Simon was too busy trying to see over and around me to the woman that when I finally yanked the door handle hard enough to shut the door, he went toppling backward with another oof. I saw the woman's arm reach out to stop the door and I pulled harder, slamming the door hard and twisting the lock in the middle of the handle. I almost fell over Simon and toppled onto the bed.
"Get in the bathroom!" I whispered to him.
I didn't want to take any chances. There was something wrong with that woman. With the whole situation. Simon ignored me because from the other side of the door we heard stomping footsteps coming down the stairs.
Mom was blustering down, hollering, "Serena Elaine Donnegar! If you slam that door one more time- Oh. Hello?"
I slid from the bed and put my ear to the door. Simon followed, worry all over his face that Mom might be in danger.
"Do you know my Millie?" the woman asked in her original, sweet little old lady voice. "I can't find her anywhere."
The air felt thick as I tried to breathe without getting too much of that gross smell up my nose. It was like when you're watching a horror movie and you just know there's a jumpscare coming but you don't know when. So you're tensed up and you know that's the worst idea because the jumpscare will startle you that much more. But you can't help it. Self-protection is definitely a thing. In horror movies and in moments like the one I was in with my little brother right then.
"Of course, we know Millie!" I could hear Mom talking quietly with her most outgoing tone. She was probably hoping the woman wouldn't get upset. But she had to be super confused about how she had gotten into the house. I thought I knew.
"Let's go upstairs, ma'am. My husband and I will help you get a hold of Millie."
There was a pause and a shuffle. I wondered if Mom saw that the door to the storage room was open. I wondered if she could smell the smell of death and decay coming from it. When it sounded like they were going up the stairs, I cracked the door a little to see what was happening. I could hear Dad at the top of the stairs, stopping in the middle of some kind of reprimand for Mom abruptly leaving their spat to run down the stairs after me.
"Who is that, Patricia?" he asked, the anger in his voice trailing away into confusion.
"Well, this is - What is your name, dear?"
They were disappearing up the spiral of stairs but as I watched, the old blind eyes flicked to me and met my gaze. Directly. It was like the world suddenly went cold all around me. It was a coincidence. It had to be. She couldn't see. Not with those cloudy eyes. But as I kept watching, they seemed to turn completely black and flash in the stairwell light. If it was possible, everything around me got even colder. Then they were back to being cloudy and blind and I brushed it off. I was freaking myself out again. It was just a trick of the lighting on her poor eyes.
"Why, I am Mara," I heard the old woman say.
Simon was squirming to push through the door as Mom and Mara went up out of view. I let him past me.
"Don't go up there!" I hissed and then I saw what he was doing.
Simon made a beeline for the open door to the storage room. I followed quickly, unable to resist my curiosity. Even as my hand raised automatically to cover my nose and mouth while the stench got worse. Simon flipped a light switch on the wall and I nearly choked.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5