Petting Zoo, Part #2

 The effulgent sunlight flooded your vision as your eyelids fluttered open from their groggy state. It was time to wake up. You rub the fatigue out of your sockets and allow the covers to fall from your body as you sat up in bed. Awoken to the metallic singe of your morning breath, you began to peer towards the rest of the room. The television screen was black, and the small light on the console was a cloudy white.

 One of your parents must've came in and shut off the console and television upon leaving you to your lonesome for the evening. Upon the recollection that you had a new phone sitting on your nightstand, you wearily pushed against the mattress and slid yourself off. The carpet felt nice against your bare soles, but there would be no time to indulge in the carpet. Almost as if on cue, the door swung open and in stepped your dad. He appeared to be upset over something, waving his arm erratically as he spoke to you in a raised voice.

 "What are you doing?! It's seven thirty, and you're still not dressed! Get your fucking clothes on and get in the car, I'll buy you breakfast on the way there. I can't believe this, already you're making me want to take that damn phone and crush it!" Your dad barked. And with that, you scrambled off of the bed and towards the dresser, frantically pulling the top shelf open and grabbing the first shirt off of the top stack. It was a Saturday morning, and you'd made a deal with your uncle earlier in the week to work on his ranch for the weekend. This week and the week after would be spring break, so you didn't much care for losing three days to work.

 With your shirt now tucked into your undergarments, you were almost ready to go. Just a pair of pants and your shoes and you were ready to leave, as you walked towards the door you remember the phone. As you backpedaled towards the nightstand your dad swung the door open, your hand was suspended in air reaching towards your phone. Now he was angered, words of frustration spewed from his mouth as you jerked away from the dresser. "That's it, I'm taking this damn thing and you won't have it until you come back!"

 Your dad hollered as he snatched the phone off of the nightstand. Nodding as you walked out the door, a single thought of defeat occupied your mind. There was nothing you could do, showing some sort of reaction would only worsen your punishment. All was silent in the house, only the humming of electrical equipment and the steps of your feet penetrated said silence. Your mother always drove off to work an hour before you woke up and your siblings did not exist, so the house was usually this quiet.

 Today the atmosphere felt dissimilar, you could almost feel a sort of presence in the house, a presence of joy and blissful ignorance. You didn't have time to really bethink of this sudden change of tone, for you were being rushed out of the house by your irate father. At the door you hastily fumbled with the lock. Once the lock was free and the door open, you were met with the fresh morning breeze whispering past you and waltzing into the house. "C'mon, we don't have all day here, the car is unlocked."

 Your dad stated, his voice heavy with vexation. With this information, you strode down the concrete steps of the porch, the orange flare of the early morning's rays half filling your vision. One pull on the rear handle and the door was agape, the stiff seat harshly cradling your bottom as you slid in. Your dad was quick to enter, he yanked the door open and flung himself inside, his hand impatiently pushing the key into the ignition. Soon enough the car was traversing down the driveway in the opposite direction it was facing, and with one final turn the car was buzzing down the road.

 Flickers of the tan, white and brown houses flew by as you stared out the window. Though you had somewhat of an awakening excercise preparing yourself to depart, you could not control the desires of your body. In only half a minute your vision was a hazy black, you had fallen back to sleep. Upon being shooken a little to roughly, your eyes opened to a grassland that stretched a good couple hundred yards, before being halted by a wooden fence holding a thick woods from invading the yard. You had arrived.

 There were no hints of hesitation in your actions, for you excitedly pulled the door handle back and then pushed the door away. Upon stepping out, your nostrils were hit with the smell of livestock and tree sap. You turned around and gently pushed the door closed, the passenger window had begun to whir it's way down. It was your dad, attempting to convey to you something. "If I come back and uncle Tom tells me that you weren't workin', that phone will be gone and your ass is gettin' whooped. Understand?"

 He said, twitchily pointing a finger towards you. A nod was enough confirmation for him. The window had begun to ascend to it's original position. It took but half a minute for your dad to back out of the gravel driveway. With him gone, you turned to look towards the homestead atop a small hill located a couple hundred more yards away.

 As you began to speed walk towards the home, you pondered over the following three days you would have to spend here. What would you do with a week-and-a-half of free time? Would dad really give you your phone back? Would that enigmatic phone number continue to send you messages? All of these thoughts and more occupied your mind, but further thought of this would have to wait, for there were more prime tasks at hand.

 Three days had passed. It was the middle of the day when your dad arrived, you were heading towards the homestead when you heard the familiar sound of the worn engine rattle becoming more audible. You were ready to depart before dad had even arrived. The ride home was un-memorable, all you could recollect was sliding into the backseat of the car and then sliding out a couple hours later. Walking to the door was a semi-difficult task, three days at the ranch had pushed a city slicker like you past his limits.

 Once you had entered, your entire mood changed. Filling the atmosphere of the house was the presence from three days ago, it was much heavier than before. As the tone of the house began to seep into your head, it had helped in developing a nasty headache, pounding away at the back of your skull. Your dad had entered after you, and by that time you'd already begun to strenuously trudge up the stairs. He did not bother to implore this behavior, merely perching himself on a recliner, snatching the remote and drowning his day away in the evening news.

 You reached the top of the stairs and hooked a left, immediately at the door to your room. Pushing the door open rushed you with a now relieved feeling. This did not last, and almost as if on cue the presence had flooded in and occupied your room. It came back with a vengeance, and the nasty head ache in your cranium intensified. The blankets folded open in such an enticing way were inviting for your stressed body, and you began to suanter over to your bed.

 The bed frame squeaked under your weight as you climbed onto the mattress, your eyes were gradually getting heavier. Affixed on you was the clothing you'd been wearing all day, even when you'd pulled the covers over your body. It didn't take long for you to fall into a sleeping state once you'd shut your eyes. Tonight's sleep would be a dreamless one, differing from your usual nights in which you'd have vivid and hyperactive dreams. Throughout this state all that was audible were the ambient sounds of the fan, and at one point, the scuttling of feet against the wooden floor.

 It was morning time once again, and the head ache from yesterday was no more. Today the atmosphere felt eerie, as though as no one except for you were situated in the house, but also as if you weren't exactly alone. You tried to shrug this off, but the new tone had rooted itself into the back of your skull, and the slight sensation of nervousness persisted. Timorously pushing the covers off of yourself, you notice that you hadn't even taken off your shoes when you slid into bed. As a yawn was emitted from your throat there was a scuttling noise from outside the door.

 This sound made the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, but at the same time a new feeling of curiosity soon swept over you. Deciding to investigate, you slid out of bed with a thud. The noise came back, now muffled and distant it sounded as if it had relocated. The feeling of nervousness sharpened upon opening the door, your hands were shaking and already there were beads of sweat moving down your forehead. Though you were now starting to feel almost afraid, you decided to push forward, lightly treading down the stairs in attempted furtiveness.

 Upon reaching the bottom there was a note taped to the hand rail. It was from your dad, he'd gone off to work earlier than usual and was informing you to "keep up with the chores", or else there'd be consequences. Suddenly, there was a loud buzzing noise followed by a repeated clicking along with the sound of various people's voices emitting from the living room. The clicking noise stopped and the voices finally settled on that of a popular kids show host. A very realistic child-like giggling could be heard from the living room.

 With your heart now racing you crouched down below some nearby furniture. Now in the doorway to the living room you peered over the apex of the couch. There on the cushions sat a short, disheveled and gray dressed form, who's attention was fixed to the television screen, broadcasting a children's program. All of the fear built up from the anxiety of the situation melted, it was just a small child, someone that shouldn't bring much trouble upon you. They appeared to be dressed in some sort of Halloween costume, a ragged gray robe draped over their body with an ivory mask donning dark colored unkempt hair.

 Simultaneous with stepping into the living room, the form perched on the couch had averted from the screen and focused on you, their mask resembled a canine skull. The initial shock of seeing something so alien at such a short distance subsided in under a second, and then the form spoke. "Hi, Anon!" The stranger greeted, waving their little hand in the air at you. The voice reminded you of Elliot, a kid who lived adjacent to you, high pitched, full of zeal and very chattery. "Shouldn't you be hidden somewhere, waiting to jump out and act like a weirdo? You know, what you usually do when you try and scare me?"

 You said, voice similar in tone to that of an irritated older brother. "What do you mean? I've never even done that, I'm just trying to watch tv after being stuck with your boring dad for three days. He's a really serious guy, no matter how many times I kicked him or bit him, he didn't do anything." Elliot stated. "Yeah, alright. Nice try, Elliott, now get out of here, or I'll really call the cops this time. Oh, but let me see that mask before you go, it looks pretty cool." You said as you began to approach Elliot.

 The costume he wore was detailed and very life-like, with a special emphasis put into the mask, the sharp lines and arching curves of the skull were strikingly discernible. Even the mask felt realistic, gritty in texture but easily allowing your hand to glide around the surface. But the most prominent attribute to Elliot's mask was it's ability to stay attached to the wearer's face. No matter how hard you pulled on the jaw bone, the mask didn't budge, and Elliot seemed to be dissimulating pain somewhat convincingly. "Ow, ow, ow wh-ow, why are y-ow doing this?"

 Elliot stammered out. "...did you glue this to your face or something? Why isn't it coming off?" You rhetorted as the beating of your heart began to accelerate. Thoughts of doubt flooded your mind. Now you were dead set on confirming that the intruder in your home was just a neighborhood child.

 After pulling on the jaw for atleast fifteen seconds, you let go of Eliot's mask, to his relief and your defeat. Now the fear had begun to wax over your mind. Sweat increasingly poured from your brow and your breathing slowly became heaier. Your pupils began to dilate as the stranger meerly gazed at your slow freak out. "What do you mean? This is my face, and what does glue mean?"

 That was the straw that broke the camel's back. It only took but a mere second after hearing that for you to faint, the situation too much for you to handle.