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Perry Again?

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THE LUMP in my stomach wasn't as big as the one that came with the news of Mrs. Morris' sad passing but it was there regardless. Yet my dad insisted on Tony bringing my dinner to my room.

It was only after he stepped in that I wondered how he managed to knock before he entered. It was obvious he was having difficulties balancing the tray in his small arms that had yet to mature into the muscles I'd associated him with.

I face-palmed myself.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to knock. You could have just walked in."

"Yeah, well, the last time I entered without knocking, you were talking to some guy friend and you yelled at me to leave."

Did I do that?

I must have said it as a simple thing, but seems like it must have hurt him for him to remember. Maybe at the time, I didn't think of how my words and action might hurt him and I didn't stop to think of how young he was.

And that's when I looked at him. He was younger and somewhat shorter than he was. Guess he hadn't had that growth spurt boys get at puberty. His hair was shorter and looked to just be growing out of a buzz cut. It was only when he entered high school he stopped cutting his hair so low. If I recall correctly.

"Hey," I called out as he was about to leave and I asked, "Do you wanna have dinner with me?"

He looked at my food and shook his head.

"Uh no. It's your food. And mine is downstairs."

I urged further. "You could bring it up here and we could watch a movie on my laptop. Plus, it's gonna be quiet here if I'm all by myself."

"Uh, never mind." He scratched the back of his neck with one hand before stuffing both of them into his pants pockets and taking a slight step back.

I frowned.

Why would he feel uncomfortable having dinner with me? Was that how strained our relationship was?

"And I'm sure a call to one of your many friends would take you out of the world and make you forget about the rest of us," he said before he turned to leave.

I sighed, but he was right. A call to them would be a relief, but I wondered who to call. I scrolled and saw Mariana's number. I wonder if she was still in... whatever condition that was.

Or if that was something that never happened. I contemplated but concluded that I wouldn't. I'd call Kai instead.

The line rang for a while before going to voicemail, but it was different.

"Hey, I'm currently not available. If this is a family member, leave a message and I'll call back. A friend? Leave a text and I'll reply as soon as I can. If this is someone I've never spoken to before, introduce yourself. You could have the wrong number..."

There was a pause and when he continued, it came out distorted. "If this is Clara, you shouldn't be calling."

I frowned and inspected my phone like it was a strange device I'd never held before and deep down, the fleeting thought of whether it was mine formed.

What did he mean by I shouldn't be calling?

First, his voicemail was never like this. It was simple. I'm currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep, and then you would hear the beep. Yep, I could still remember every word.

Regardless, I left a message.

"Hey, Kai. It's Clara, and I just wanted to know how you are doing and uh... please call me back after the message."

I decided not to think too much about it and dialed Naomi's number. It rang, and she answered on the second ring.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" she exclaimed, attempting to imitate Santa Claus.

"Someone's in the Christmas spirit."

"Of course, I'm in the Christmas spirit. If I'm not in the spirit, then who will be? Do you even know who you're talking to?"

She used the same tone as the men, or women, who usually dressed in the typical red suit with white fur trim and famed white beard during this time of the year.

"Oh wow," I feigned a gasp. "Don't tell me I'm talking to Santa-Claus," I said, with exaggerated excitement.

"The one and only. What would you want for Christmas, young one?"

I stifled a laugh.

"A lot actually, but could you start by giving my best friend, Naomi, her phone? We haven't talked in a while."

"Oh yes, of course, but I hope you have a wonderful present for your best friend. She would love a certain Louis Vuitton heel. Not that I'm not giving her anything."

She cleared her throat but went on with her facade. "I am Santa-Claus after all, but you know, a little more presents for Naomi wouldn't hurt anyone," she said and I could hear her smirk over the phone.

"Oh, don't worry Santa, you just worry about getting Naomi her present."

She cleared her throat again before she asked in her normal voice, "So, how was your chat with Santa?" I couldn't help but laugh at her antics.

"A Louis Vuitton heel."

She gasped. "Louis Vuitton! Is that what you're promising me?"

"Oh please, keep dreaming. I'm sure this Santa would visit you in your dreams and grant it to you."

"Clara, do you still not believe in Santa Claus?" she whined.

"It's just a made-up story. I don't see why our parents, instead of telling us they got us these gifts themselves, would say that they're from this Santa. Then we have to grow up to the realization that it's not even real."

"You're just pained that the Christmas you wanted that amazing Louis Vuitton heel—you know, like the one I want—that's when your parents told you that Santa isn't real. And I'm sure they were just joking, but you, being typical Clara, took it seriously."

"If you want a Louis Vuitton heel, call Santa and if you happen not to be on the naughty list, then he might visit you in your dreams," I said.

"You're just jealous."

"Yeah, whatever. So, what have you been up to?" I asked.

"Oh, you know, hanging up Christmas lights, decorating the Christmas tree, and building little snowmen," she said.

"And your brothers?" I asked.

Naomi was the second child and had four stepbrothers after her. The first was her elder sister, Aniyah. After their mother died when they were young, their father remarried and had four sons with his new wife.

"Oh, you know them, destroying all that I do just because I'm the one who did it," she said, and I heard her yell at one of them, or two for running around the Christmas tree, proving her case in point.

"That must be fun," I said and then asked, "Have you heard from Kai recently?"

"Yeah, I spoke to him yesterday. Why?"

"I called him and his—"

"Oh Clara, whenever we're at school, all you guys do is stare at each other with love-filled eyes and when you are countries apart, that's when you want to see each other. Though he said he's in your city this holiday. I guess you guys would make a very good long-distance coup—"

I didn't hear the rest because she cut herself off to yell again. And this time, it took a while before she got back to the phone.

"Now that I'm home, these boys want to drive me nuts. Aniyah and my parents aren't around, so I'm in charge. Though it feels less like that and more like bondage. I'll have to call you later. Maybe you can call Kai later on or just send him a voice message he'll reply."

"Yeah, done that already. Bye," I said and didn't even catch the rest of her response before I hung up to leave her to her brothers.

While I'm sure it must be fun to have so many siblings, I guess there are the stressful parts. I looked down at my already cold spaghetti.

A few moments after I'd shoved the first bite in my mouth, I heard a rattling above me that prompted my eyes to dart up. My room was below the attic and I'm sure some rats were just running around. But the rattling increased and progressed to scratching.

I tried to forget about it but it increased and didn't stop. My eyes went up once more, and this time filled with more annoyance than fear at the unknown. I shot off my bed, once again abandoning my meal, to check it out.

Once I was out, it only took a few steps for me to reach the lever that I pulled to bring down the overhead stairs which led to the attic. I climbed up and searched for the lamp that was usually close to the entrance before I found it and switched it on.

It wasn't as dirty or scattered as I'd always seen in movies. Jane loved the fact that this house had an attic and always kept it neat. The reason? I never knew.

I found attics unwanted, not creepy, as depicted in most movies. Why would there be the need for a room above the house, which was technically still not a room?

I went over to the spot that was directly over my room, or the spot I thought was above my room. Nothing but some boxes lay there. I opened one to find stuffed teddies in it.

I never understood why Dad kept our toys from when we were little. Tony and I were his only children, and we didn't have any little cousins, given that Aunt Vera had no kids. We didn't know what Uncle Mike had going on in his life, and Dad was an only child.

Though, the thought of him and Jane wanting to have a child together once crossed my mind for their reason. It made me shudder then and even now. I couldn't imagine having a step-sibling as old as I was and with Jane as the mother.

The second box didn't have any labels on it, so I concluded it must be empty. I would have left it with that conclusion, but when it shook lightly, I stopped in my tracks to see if it would happen again. And it did.

Was there something in it?

I took careful steps toward it and was slow to open it. I peered and was almost sure it was empty when a flash of blue and green dashed out, stunning me to stumble onto my butt. My harsh collision with the floor sent the boxes around toppling.

I glanced up to see Perry perched on a box some feet from me.

"Perry! What are you doing here? Did you come from—"

"Clarissa is not safe! Clarissa must come home!" it cried out, sounding more distressed, if it could, than the last time.

"But I'm at home," I said, and it shrieked.

"This is not your home!" Gone was the chirpy voice now replaced with something hoarse and cracked. It was so disturbing, I had to cover my ears.

"Woah! You're grumpier. Can you tell me anything about everyone at home, at Grandma's place? How are they?"

"Clarissa is not safe! Clarissa must come home!" it shrieked again, prompting a groan from me.

"You know I would appreciate it if you said something else," I said, but it kept repeating its words as if that were its only purpose here. Nothing more, nothing less.

I wondered what it was doing in real life. Was it missing like I was?

"If that's all you're going to say, could you at least listen?" I said, and it went quiet for a while.

Hm.

"Can you tell grandma I'm missing and they should come find me? In whatever way they can," I said.

If they could find me and get me out somehow, that would be better than me wracking my head and fighting for the memories that were always slipping past me whenever I woke up. Plus, Perry saying I'm not safe would mean I'm not, right?

A brief silence passed before it continued shrieking until it stopped without warming. A tense silence followed, and I felt the air change. Its black eyes resembled a vortex of darkness, but its stare felt like it was judging me. The way a real human would.

Then came the voice that shook me to my core.

"You are doing pretty well, Clarissa." It was a voice I had heard before but couldn't remember where.

"But know that you cannot and will not leave here until you have finished all your chances. Until then, you will remain here, with no. Way. Out."

I could feel the little hairs on my arm raise as a chill descended upon the room. Although we had the only square window in the attic sealed shut, the chill was colder than the one the snow usually brought in.

I was about to ask who it was when heavy steps pounded up into the attic.

"CLARISSA!" my dad boomed.

"I'm up here!" I exclaimed with undertones of fear that my earlier annoyance had morphed into.

"You're supposed to be in your room eating. Do we need to be monitoring you? You need to eat and be well-rested, not here—What are you even doing here?" he asked.

"Calm down, Dad," I said, shifting to my feet and dusting the backside of my pants, which was sure to have some dust from my fall. "I heard some noises here that were bothering me."

"Well, I wasn't the one who said you should pick the room beneath the attic," he said under his breath before he asked, "And what was making the noise?"

I looked to where I thought Perry was, but as expected, it wasn't there.

"Just..." I trailed off, unsure of how to explain the bizarre incident I just witnessed.

"Did you find what was making the noise?"

"No, not really."

"Then you can head back down now and make sure you finish your meal," he ordered.

I mumbled a 'yeah' and headed down with him coming behind me as well. I was about to enter my room when he called out, "I called the hospital and booked an appointment tomorrow afternoon."

"What for?" I asked, with brows slanted in anger.

"You just had a reaction. You may seem fine, but it wouldn't hurt to be sure that you are," he said, and I sighed in resignation.

I didn't particularly like hospitals. The overwhelming scent of disinfectant felt suffocating. The hospital was the nurse's office multiplied. That and my nausea. This was one visit I wasn't looking forward to.

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The Sparkling Authoress
Mis. A

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