Taylor Hanson
CAUTION: This chapter contains mature situations. Please use your best judgement.
"It was better than I thought it was going to be," I said with a shrug, putting the bag I was carrying on the table. I had decided to buy some people some gifts while I was here. I couldn't think of much else to buy and Lyle insisted that I buy something.
"Meaning....?" he prodded me.
"Meaning it was okay," I said. "The House of Guitars was cool, but kind of cluttered. Barnes and Noble was too hot, but they had some good books. Fantastic Records was really cool."
"You mean that it basically wasn't anything you couldn't have seen in Tulsa," he said.
I shrugged. "Right."
He nodded. "Okay," he replied, accepting that. He seemed satisfed that at least I didn't think it sucked or anything. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"
I glanced at the clock. It was two-thirty. I figured it couldn't hurt.
"Yeah. Just let me go to the bathroom first," I said, making my way to the bathroom, trying to remember which door it was. I'd had to go since we left the mall.
I peeked behind one door, which was slightly ajar. I got slightly frustrated with myself when I saw that it wasn't the right one. I wondered way, after being there for so long, I still couldn't figure out which room was which.
"Next one over," Lyle said, chuckling at my confusion.
"Thanks," I mumbled, embarrassed.
I went into the room, inching my way in as if I thought that someone might already be in there. I felt along the way for the lightswitch. When I flicked it on, I braced myself for the rather bright flickers that came before the lights turned on fully. I didn't think I'd ever be able to get used to that.
It being the first moment I had to myself all day, I found my thoughts beginning to wander. I reviewed the events of the day in my mind.
Lyle seemed like an okay guy. I didn't really understand why Parker hated him so much. Then again, I had never really been in his place before. Not to sound too cliche or anything, but when you really do think about it, Gina was the only person who ever stayed constant throughout his life. And, seeing how Gina acted toward Lyle, it probably felt like competition or something. It sounds dumb because you hear it in the movies all the time, but there's actually a lot of truth in that. At least from my point of view. And I guess my opinion can't exactly be sworn by since I've never really been through it.
But still, Lyle did seem like a cool guy. Granted, he was a little bit dorky and just a tiny bit too friendly to the waitress at the restaurant we had gone to for lunch (she didn't seem to mind. Still, I got uncomfortable watching it), but a nice guy all the same. He didn't seem like an abusive or criminal guy, the way you would guess he was by the way Parker talked about him and acted toward him.
The knock on the door to the bathroom was what got me to snap out of my reverie and I noticed that the water I was washing my hands with was practically scalding. I gasped at the temperature and recoiled, turning the water off quickly.
I began to wonder, as I dried my hands, if I had actually been in there that long. But the way the door was being knocked on, you would think that I had been but when I glanced at the clock, it hadn't even been five minutes.
The knock repeated and I became slightly annoyed at its insistence. Were all people in Rochester this rude or was that just some sort of weird thing?
"Hold on," I said again, putting my hand on the doorknob only to feel it turning of its own accord. Surprised, I backed away as if I expected some sort of apparition to burst through the door and carry me away.
Instead, it was just Lyle.
And for a moment, I was relieved.
And then I saw the glint in his eye.
And I got scared.
He walked all the way in and closed the door behind him. By this time I was standing as far away from him as I could get, right up against the bathtub, nearly falling in as I back up against it. I watched him carefully, not really believing what I was seeing when I saw the sharp-looking knife that reflected the light of the bathroom lights as he wielded it toward me threateningly. My eyes went wide and I felt my breath quicken as my pulse practically stopped.
"Do exactly what I say," he said in a voice that didn't sound like the one he had been using before. It sounded more even in an evil sort of way, but wild at the same time. "And I won't use this."
I swallowed, watching the knife.
And then, I hesitantly nodded, wondering what he was going to make me do. My question was, unfortunately, answered when I saw his free hand move to the zipper of his jeans.
I remember vividly what happened that day, but I won't go into any detail except to say that I did do exactly what he said.
But somewhere in that vivid haze, I remember seeing myself in the full-length mirror on the door.
And I remember that that was when I started to call for help.
And that was also when I felt the knife dig into my deeply.