Foggy Faces

The road trip was short, boring and forgettable. I'm sitting in the car seat, not thinking about anything in particular, just watching field after empty field roll by, fog covering anything more than 10 yards away. I look over at my brother, he's looking out of his window, he appears to be asleep. “Are we almost home?” I ask. “We're almost there.” My mother replies, not looking up from her novel. I drift off, thinking about the 3 days I had left of summer vacation. That was probably the worst summer ever, I think, as I fall asleep.

 

I open my eyes to see the off-white ceiling of my room.

My parents must have carried me up here after we got home.

The bed creaks and groans as I lift myself off it and onto the grey carpet flooring. My room is as bland as I had left it, the old wallpaper, free of posters or photographs, as yellowish-pink as I had seen it last. I walk up to my desk and open up my laptop. No internet connection. Huh, I think, I wonder if dad didn't pay the bill. I decide to wait a bit longer. I try to get into a book, but everything slips through my mind without leaving the slightest hint of anything behind. I check my laptop, still no internet. I wonder what George is doing. I step out into the upstairs hallway and enter my brother's room. “Heeeey geeooorggee, I'm boored!” I whine. “get out of my room.” He says, his head turned towards the wall, away from me. “Humph!” I huff, as I walk out of his room. I'm gonna ask dad about the internet.

 

Downstairs, I'm out in front of the dining room, my father is sitting on the chair closest to me, turned away, reading a newspaper. “We won't have internet for a while, okay?” he says. “Fiiiine.” I say, disappointed, as I was really looking forward to catching up with my friends over the computer.

I trudge up the stairs and as I close the door of my room, it hits me. I haven't seen anyone's face for a really long time.

I suddenly feel like something is very, very wrong. It's nothing, nothing. Im being silly. But I know that something is wrong, perhaps it's just a lack of closure. Babies can't understand that that if something is out of sight, it's still there. I'm not a baby, I'm 13 years old. I'm too old for that, my parents,my brother, they still have faces, nothing has changed, my dad still has his blue eyes, his square, no, his smooth jaw, no, no, why can't I remember this? My brother has blonde hair, like my mother, no wait, my mother's hair is… something is wrong with my memory. I open up the laptop and click on the MS paint icon. 5 seconds later, I don't know why I counted, the window opened. I draw a face with my touchpad and look at it once it's done.

2 dots for eyes. 1 line for a mouth. A crude circle for a head.

 

How is it that the human mind can perceive 2 lines and 2 dots as a human face?

 

The face seems to be staring at me. A cruel interpretation, a distortion of a living human. A disgusting blob of lines and dots. I can't look at it anymore. I close the program and the laptop.

I feel so, so isolated.

I look out of my window to see if I can see someone, anyone. No, the fog and darkness of the night prevents me from seeing anything more that 3 yards away from the house. But I remember seeing people on the road trip, at the museum, no, the beach, no, it was at my grandma's hou- NO! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER ANYTHING? I scream inside my mind. Are my parents and my brother even real? Are they just horrible distortions of people? Hollow shells designed to keep me in check, to keep me in this house forever? A completely irrational thought. My parents might be horrible, hollow beasts, disgusting, tentacled monsters. I'm being silly, I'm being irrational. But what they're doing isn't rational. It's just a coincidence, nothing is wrong. Everything here is wrong. Everything. I'm going down there. I'm going to make them turn around.

 

The stairs creak and groan like starving beasts, every groan in the house is like a moan. The kitchen door was once an inviting sight. I think it was. But now it looks like a gaping mouth, waiting to swallow me whole. I take a step, the board creaks. That sound would of been normal before, but now it was like a voice, a voice screaming to alert the things in the kitchen of my presence. I keep on walking, every sound an agonizing reveal of my location. The door is right in front of me. I reach for the doorknob.

It's going to be okay. Everything will be okay. Everything. I turn the doorknob and open the door.

 

The kitchen is a boring off-white color, like everything in this house. That color hurts my eyes, it’s so harmless and monotonous that it just looks wrong.

 

My mother is standing by the sink, washing the dishes.

She is turned away from me.

My father is sitting on the table, reading a book.

He is turned away from me.

My brother is sitting by a shelf.

He is turned away from me.

 

I make a quick decision.

“hey guys! Look at me! Look at what i can do!”

 

My father doesn't answer.

“That's nice.” My mother says. She doesn't turn around.

My brother walks out of the room.

 

“Turn around and look at me dad.” I say.

 

“Don't speak to your father like that honey.” Says my mother.

 

I take a step towards my father.

What am I doing?

I take another step.

What am I going to do, force him to turn around?

I take another step.

I take one more.

I'm right behind him.

“Dad?”

His chair creaks.

My father is turning around.

 

It suddenly feels like my ears are being blown off my head with dynamite,

A massive flash of light blinds me.

The power goes off completely, and I'm plunged into total darkness.

Was that lightning? It was right in front of the house!

 

“Dad? Mom? George?!”

No answer.

“dad, where are you? Mom?”

No answer.

Something is watching me. I don't know what it is, but something is watching, and it's close.

 

I start to back away, the feeling is too strong, my ears are ringing. I don't know where i’m going. My room, i need to get to my room. My room is a safe place.

I run, knowing where my room is, roughly. Those things are not my parents, they are nothing, they are empty things. I smash into a table, something falls to the ground and breaks. I know where the stairs are from here. I trip on the steps, my forehead smashing against the cold wood, but I need to escape the things, so I keep running. I feel the cold metal of my doorknob, and throw the door open. I can't see anything but the outline of my window. Rain falling against it.

The ringing is beginning to go away, and I can hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

I feel around my room, looking for something, anything, to defend myself with. My hand grasps around a metal object, a small lamp. I hear the footsteps in my room, the thing is coming closer. I run up and swing the lamp towards the things face. “Honey, are you here?” I hear its voice, but it's too late to stop.

The lamp smashes against its face and I hear it fall to the ground.

 

The lights come on.

 

I look down at the mockery of my father.

 

His face is completely normal. It's my father's face. My father’s normal, wonderful face.

His blood stains the floor, the only bright color in the bland, off white room.