text: From the Shadows “Are you ready to take your medicine?” I asked my Momma on a gloomy Saturday morning. “Well, I can’t say no can I?” she laughed, taking the pills from my hand. Shaking my head I was about to go and read the newspaper when Poppa came into the room. “I’m gonna be going to town today, I’ve got something I gotta do,” he said, kissing my mom on the cheek and hugging me. He was in a good mood for good reason, because going to town was always special. I lived in the country with my Momma and Poppa...and three brothers. There was Michael, who just turned 15 and the was oldest, then Judah, who was 12, and Charlie who was 6. I myself was 11. Living in a house full of boys was definitely no fun, especially since I’m homeschooled. We just live so far from town. The nearest urban town was a 2 hour drive by car from us, so we normally went to town only once every 2-3 weeks. “Can I go! Can I go?!” screeched my brother Charlie. He may seem cute, but he really was a little devil - screaming and crying whenever something isn’t going the way he wants it to. I feel guilty, but sometimes I wish Charlie and the rest of my brothers would just disappear. “Sorry buddy, not today,” he answered, patting Charlie on the head. I could tell he was about to start a fit, but dad gave him such a look that Charlie knew that he better shut up if he knew what’s good for him. At that moment, Michael and Judah ran in. “Hey we heard you’re going to town, can we go Pop?” asked Judah. “I’m already 15 so I can practice my driving skills,” he continued but Poppa cut him off. “No one’s going to town with me today, understood?” he said sternly, but not angrily. “Yes Poppa,” they all answered as I nodded my head. My brothers rushed back outside to continue whatever they were doing. Poppa leaned his head near mine and whispered, “We all know the real reason those two wanna go,” as he winked at me and I giggled. Obviously, the two of them just wanted to look at the girls in town. Then Poppa left, leaving me all alone with Momma again. * * * Poppa came back around 5 with a giant smile on his face. He also came back with a gigantic, black piano. It was really big, like really, really big. Though I haven’t seen very many pianos in my life, or actually any but the one in old Mrs. Fitzgerald’s yard. But that wasn’t all. “And... I’ve invited all of our neighbors over to celebrate this momentous day,” he said. “All the invitations were already sent out, and they’re coming tomorrow at 12!” My jaw dropped. The only time we invite all our neighbors over is for Memorial Day because they all live at least 45 minutes away. My brothers all went crazy, running around the house - but Michael swore he would kill me if I told anyone about his burst of emotion. I just shrugged, I don’t really care about what he thinks is embarrassing, potential drama. Dinner was boisterous and even Momma was excited, talking about what we should all wear. Once everyone was done we started getting ready for bed. I don’t like nighttime. I don’t like the dark - no, I hate the dark. It is insanely spooky and even having to get some water or go to the bathroom is scary for me during the night. I know I sound like a wussy, but people don’t understand that part of the reason is our house. Our house is super old. I believe that it was built about a century ago by my father’s great grandfather. The floorboards creak, the walls seem to shake, the doors rattle, and the house itself seems to groan - especially when it is stormy outside. I am always so hot at night because I’m constantly hiding under the covers. My parents think night-lights are dumb and are for baby’s so I don’t have one. The light from the stars sometimes shines through my curtains which makes things even worse because of all the shadows it creates in my room. Sometimes, I’m convinced that they move. This night though felt strange, it felt especially bone-chilling. The shadows seemed to be on the move which is why I decided to wear earplugs to bed and stay under the covers all night long. Little did I know that I would be regretting that more than anything the next day. * * * “Where’s my baby? Where’s my baby boy?!” sobbed my mother hysterically. We had woken up to the worst thing imaginable - Charlie was missing. Gone. Lost. Nowhere to be found. We had searched the whole house, the barn, and even the old tractor out in the field. Poppa had immediately left to look for him, going to town a second day in a row. I couldn’t believe that just yesterday I had wished for my brothers to disappear. I said it but obviously, I hadn’t meant it, but here’s what happened. Now, we weren’t very religious people but today we all were praying. I was trying not to beat myself over this possible curse I had started and the fact that maybe, just maybe I would’ve heard what happened to Charlie if not for my stupid fear and stupid earplugs. Our celebration, obviously, didn’t happen. However, a couple of our neighbors still came over to drop off food when they heard the horrible news. We would be eating casserole for a while. All day we moped around and tried to figure out what had happened. Why would someone take Charlie? For money? Blackmail? There is just no way I can believe he ran away. Charlie was scared of the dark and anyway, he loved his life - he’s only 6! When night came around everyone was terribly stressed. Father had come back with no news. He had printed posters to put up around town and had gotten some locks to set up around the house. We spent all day setting up security systems and by dinner everyone was emotionally and physically tired. We were all too scared to sleep, but eventually we were just too tired and decided to turn in. We discussed whether or not we should sleep in our own rooms or all together, but we decided that whoever took Charlie probably would’ve taken more of us if they wanted to the first night. Besides, coming back two nights in a row is very risky. It took me quite a while to fall asleep, but right before I did I heard some music - probably from Michael’s room since he loves falling asleep to music. I tossed and turned all night long, watching the shadows dance on my walls as if coaxing me. I was parched but I was way to scared to get out of bed to get water. The house groaned all night long and the storm outside wasn’t helping except that someone would probably not want to travel through all this rain - I felt slightly safer because of it. No matter, I was just trying to distract myself. The only thing I could think of was poor Charlie until I dozed off until morning. I woke with a start to a screech and a thud. I sprinted to where I heard the noises came from and it was Michael’s room. I saw my Momma on the floor, she had past out - and no Michael. “Oh no no no...” I muttered under my breath, standing in place, completely blank. After my mind starting working again I yelled: DAD! HELP!” as I ran out of the room and saw dad and Judah running in. “He’s gone! He’s gone! There’s nothing I could do! And mom...mom” I tried to explain but couldn’t stop sobbing. “I-I...Mom-mom...medecine,” I tried to get out. Why couldn’t I speak! “It’s gonna be okay honey,” my Poppa said, trying to calm me down. “We’ll go straight to the hospital. And so, for the third day in a row, Poppa went to town except with two crying children. * * * It was 6pm. Poppa and I were on our way home. Judah decided to stay with Momma in the hospital since Poppa couldn’t. Poppa and I had to go back to the house and pack cause we were getting out of there as soon as possible. But, that also meant we had to spend another night in the house. “We’re gonna have to pull an all-nighter honey,” Poppa told me. “I know this isn’t the way you wanted to, but we’re gonna have to do it,” he continued to explain. I wasn’t hearing a word he was saying though. I was almost too scared to breathe. Back at the hospital, Poppa said that either me or Judah had to stay with Momma. We had asked why both of us can’t stay but he said something about safety with numbers and that we could never be alone. Poppa said that maybe I should be the one to stay, but Judah basically had a mental breakdown at the thought which left me to be the mature one. “It’s okay, Poppa,” I told him. “Judah can stay. I’ll go with you,” and I did after Poppa asked me if I’m sure about a thousand more times. Obviously I wasn’t, but unlike Judah I kept my mental break down in my head. Entering the house was like entering a living nightmare. The house seemed to be extra loud and the shadows seemed to be monsters who were more prominent than ever. Poppa and I tried to be productive and pack, but eventually we had to stop because it was obvious nothing was getting done. We got into comfier clothes - not pajamas because we couldn’t get comfy - and went into Poppa and Momma’s room. We brought snacks, drinks, entertainment, lamps, and weapons so we could be as prepared as possible for the long, long night. We barricaded the door and windows and made sure all the lights were off in the house so no one could see that people were there - except our room which we put five pairs of curtains on. We had brought so much to do but we mostly just sat in silence listening to wind that was rattling the window. Occasionally we snacked or had a drink, but that was it. I suppose that not sleeping well for two nights isn’t going to help when you’re trying to pull an all-nighter - as well as sitting in silence. So, before I knew it, I was waking up to see my Poppa was asleep - and I had been as well! The problem was, I really had to use the bathroom. We had been locked in the room since 9pm and it was 3am and I had been drinking Sprite. The door was barricaded, but I knew I couldn’t wait so I quickly and quietly removed the chair from under the doorknob, opened the door then closed it, and ran two steps across the hall to get to the bathroom where I locked the door. Luckily, the bathroom had a night-light. No one wants to turn the light on in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and get blinded as well as wake up. This was especially good because I hadn’t brought a flashlight or lantern with me. I quickly relieved myself and was about to go back to the room when I heard something. Music. Then I realized that it was the same music I had heard last night! I had thought it came from Michael’s room, but now that I strained my ears...it was coming from the living room. Oh my god I thought it’s the piano . Normally, I was terrified of the dark but I actually felt strangely calm. I opened the door and walked over to the living room. I had been right. It was the piano - except no one was playing it. The keys were moving themselves as if trying to teach me how to play. I went over and sat down on the slick, black bench and tried to copy the keys. The piano led me through simple patterns at first, then got more and more complex. I was feeling so happy and relaxed that I hadn’t noticed how long I was there for - and frankly, I didn’t care. All of a sudden, from behind, my father jumped out, chair in hand, right as a giant metal crane grabbed my face. I tried to yell but I couldn’t. The shadows were coming back and I noticed how I was being lifted by the black metal crane or hand - that was coming out of the piano. I could see my father bashing the piano with the chair, but it wasn’t working. I realized that I was completely off the ground and the crane started to retract. The hand I screamed in my head hit the hand Poppa! Hit the hand! I tried extending my arm to give Poppa a clue and as I did I crashed to the ground. He had hit the hand. Gasping for breath, Poppa grabbed the hand and ripped it out of the piano and as he did something magical happened. From the piano tumbled Charlie and Michael. As if regaining consciousness of what had happened Charlie, Michael, and I all rubbed our eyes as Poppa continued to bash the piano with the very broken chair. Michale and I ran to the dining table and grabbed another chair each and helped break the piano with Poppa and Charlie ran to the kitchen to drink as much water as he possibly could. * * * “Momma! Judah!” yelled Michael and Charlie as they ran into the hospital room. “You’re not gonna believe what happened!” they yelled, interrupting each other. The morning of the piano fiasco we all set off to go to the hospital and bring Momma and Judah home (because the hospital called Poppa in the morning saying she was free to leave). “Fourth day in a row,” whispered Poppa to me. “Might as well have been living here this whole time!” he laughed and I smiled at him. “Let’s just say I’m completely on board with that idea,” I answered. I can say, for sure, that I’m never going to learn how to play the piano.