Apt #803

"Mahhhhhhhmmeeeeeee!!!!!"

Running, bat in hand, she stumbled down the hall.  Which door???

"Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" 

Trista, that's Trista.  Of course!

Susan turned sharply left, banging her shoulder, sweeping the air with the bat before dropping to her knees.  Trista was sitting up, sweat-soaked hair hanging.  Face flushed, she pulled in another breath to scream. 

"Honey, shushhhhh.  Stop honey, stop.  Just a nightmare.  Mommy's here.  Shush."

Trista's eyes squeezed shut, her thin ribcage was heaving wildly.  God, Susan thought, she's nearly seizing!

Susan felt awful for her eldest, caught in a recurring nightmare about a young boy with white eyes and a scratched face, who watched her from the old rocker in the corner.  Creepy.

Trista believed in him so strongly that she "gave" him things.  In the last week, Susan had found a package of oreos, Trista's charm bracelet and her favorite stuffie, Mr. Turtle, on the ground outside, near the parking lot.  Mr. Turtle was no worse for wear but the oreos were shattered.  Susan thought again now that Trista needed to talk to someone.  A professional.  The divorce had hit her hard.

Finally giving up the terror, Trista slumped forward, heaving cries into Susan's lap.

Running her hands over Trista's soaked head, Susan looked for Lucy, puzzled. The baby wasn't there, sucking her thumb and clutching the doorframe like she had been every other night.

Susan pushed Trista back up into bed, tucking the comforter under her still quivering chin. 

"Honey, I'm gonna check on Lucy.  You okay?"

"No." Trista says too softly.  "Lucy's gone."  How alike the girls look, Susan thought, not registering.

"Wait, what?"  She spit out, finally.

"Uh I..I gave her to Bad Brian.  I'm sorry Mommy.  He told me that, he told me...."  Trista's lip is quivering, tears are starting to flow again.

Susan looks down at her oldest daughter, lets her hand drop onto the comforter, and then walks, dreamlike, through the empty doorframe into Lucy's room.  Seeing Lucy's toddler bed in disarray, her gauzy pink curtains waving gently in the night air, the breath she was holding lets out into a single terrifying wail.