Chapter Fifty One

||KIT||

†

Standing on the doorstep to my house I realised I wasn't as nervous as I expected to be.

Ever since Masky had told me my mask was a placebo it didn't make sense to be scared of anything at all anymore. Especially with the added protection of Zalgo.

But could The Nightmare King protect me from Sara's chancla?

I readied myself before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I was greeted with warmth and Sara's voice as soon as I walked in. She was sitting in one of the living room armchairs, her head resting against one hand while her other hand held the home phone to her ear.

The digital clock on the mantle was flashing 3:15 am.

"- with them. This is Kit we're talking about she would never-" she stopped to listen as the person on the other line spoke, nodding to herself as she sniffled and I frowned.

Should I have been more mindful? Sara had a lot to deal with and she didn't need my antics disturbing her already hectic system.

Maybe being with Masky really had changed me.

I cleared my throat and her head whipped around almost immediately.

"Te llamo después!" she spoke into the receiver hurriedly before setting it down and rushing over to me.

"Kit! Where the fajitas were you?"

Before I could answer I was grabbed up into a tight hug and she peppered kisses all over my head. She pulled away to look at me holding my face in her hands as tears shimmered in her deep brown eyes and although I knew I should probably reciprocate her emotions, I couldn't.

Inside, I was upset that my night hadn't gone the way I expected it to and I just wanted to get away.

Get to my room.

Get in bed.

"I-"

I was cut off by her pulling me to her bosom again, "you gave me such a fright, mija!"

"Sorry..." I didn't know what else to say and when she pulled away again she looked into my dry eyes with her own tear-filled ones.

"Mija, talk to me," I noticed she was staring at the band-aid on my neck and I looked at my feet.

"Can we talk later? I'm not feeling so good."

"Kit-"

"Please," I begged, raising my head to look into her eyes, "I promise I'll talk when I feel better."

Her eyes searched mine for a while before she sighed and let her hands drop to her sides.

"Fine. I'll give you an hour."

I immediately booked it up the stairs after giving her a closed lipped smile, headed for my room.

Flinging the door open I let out a sigh of relief and locked it after me.

Free at last.

I'd gotten off the hook a lot easier than I expected to at first and I immediately peeled out of my hoodie and flung it onto my bed. Heading into the bathroom I washed my face, stopping to look into my eyes as water droplets rolled off my skin.

I realised I was starting to get dark circles under my eyes due to the very little sleep I'd been getting these last few days and as I peered even closer to notice my pupils were a bit dilated as well.

I should probably get some rest.

After my shower I was dressed comfortably in my fluffy pajamas and I decided, despite choosing not to before, to look through the rest of Masky's camera.

As I neared the desk where I had left the camera connected to my laptop, question marks were popping up before me.

Where is it?

I swallowed, looking under the desk and in drawers just in case I had actually put it away before I left.

My heart was thudding now as I searched frantically, throwing pillows off the bed and pushing my old boxes full of textbooks away to look behind them.

It was nowhere to be found.

What if...? What if Sara found it?

What if she watched the videos?

Panic settled into my very bones and I realized I was shaking when my hand closed around my doorknob.

Stupid. Stupid stupid!

Why did I leave the camera for her to find?

What if she called the police? What if they were behind the door right now waiting to take me downtown?

I turned the knob slowly and was relieved to find the hallway empty once I pulled the door open. I stepped out and chewed on my lower lip as I headed down the hallway toward the stairs.

Just as I went by Nick's bedroom someone called out behind me.

I turned to see him poking his head out from behind his bedroom door.

"You're back," he spoke softly and stretched a hand out, the camera in his grasp, "I hope you don't mind, I borrowed this earlier to take some pictures of Milly."

I walked over to him with a suspicious narrowing of my eyes, "you shouldn't be in my room when I'm not around, Nicholas."

He looked down, lips pressed closed, "I know but she was doing this cute swirly thing-"

I couldn't help but smile. He really loved that goldfish didn't he?

Taking the camera, I wondered if there were any possibility he'd seen what was stored on there.

If he had seen anything he was surely good at hiding it because there was nothing in his expression to indicate that he saw anything out of the ordinary and I'm sure a 14 year old wouldn't be able to keep a secret like that all to themselves.

He immediately retreated behind his door after I took the camera and I said a quick prayer, glad Sara wasn't the one who'd found it.

A long shadow fell over me and I turned to see her at the end of the hallway, looking at me expectantly.

Speak of the devil.

"Let's talk, mija."

×××

"Kitani, come on in. Have a seat."

The couch is nice, even if it is facing her own armchair so I couldn't escape her gaze.

"Are you comfortable?"

That smile is so forced.

"Let's continue where we left off from our last session, shall we?"

My dull eyes met my new therapist's own behind her glasses as she held her clipboard on her lap, legs crossed in that way, asserting some sort of dominance over the situation.

I was fine with just slouching in the overstuffed couch, looking around the room, and searching for new things to focus my attention on.

Both sessions I've had with her so far have gone the same way, with her asking me questions and me pretending the clock above her head or individual threads in the rug at my feet commanded my attention more than she did.

Anything I could use to pass the time.

It's not like I needed to tell someone like her my life problems anyway. She'd never understand and even if she could she was probably legally obligated to report it to the police.

What would she know about my struggle when her own life was obviously perfect in every way?

Now as she sat there she probably thought I was pathetic.

Probably only saw me as a paycheck at the end of the day. I wouldn't blame her.

Sara had decided, despite my protests, that I needed help working through all the 'issues' I was facing, and especially the 'abusive boyfriend' I was determined to keep secret from her. She'd come to that conclusion herself when I neglected to tell her the story behind the scars.

Masky wasn't abusive. He was just different and they could never understand.

Sara was keeping a tighter leash on me, grounding me for life, and I didn't think it wise to fight her on it so for the past five days, it's been school and then back home with no room for leisure or freedom to break the routine, except for when I'd have therapy. She didn't even want Amy to drop me off anymore, somehow fitting that into her already tight schedule.

I didn't mind either. Amy wasn't supportive of me being with Masky and I was sick of her lectures about letting him go so I gave her the cold shoulder, just like I did this annoying therapist with her straight back and perfectly slicked ponytail.

Just like I did Sara.

I'd scared her, I know, and at this point I wasn't even keen on leaving the house at all since I was still waiting for Masky to show.

If Sara was smart she would've boarded up my window.

I couldn't help but wonder if Masky had moved on from me. When I first found out that he'd made someone else kill, I'd wondered how that ended for her. She wasn't in the picture anymore so something must've happened.

That night he'd warned me to stay away from him and I was doing that, but only because I had no other option. If only there was someone who could give me just a hint.

The week was already coming to a close and I was growing anxious and frustrated, not being able to see him.

I'd zoned out as I stared at the clock but I was slowly starting to focus on my therapist's words again as she regarded me over her glasses.

"I noticed a number of marks on your body. How did that happen?"

Lips pressed together, I dragged my gaze away from her eyes once more and over to the pictures on the mantel, slowly studying the intricate designs of the picture frames.

"You know, a lot of people I see with these kinds of injuries have domestic issues. Is someone hurting you?"

When I didn't answer she moved on, uncrossing her legs before crossing them again on the opposite side.

"Kitani, I know it's hard to open up about these kinds of situations but-"

The fire in the fireplace needed to be poked as it was sputtering now and I was tempted to rise and do it myself but my eyes flickered back to the clock.

I still had thirty minutes left of this session.

A sigh left my lips.

"Let's try this," rising from her chair, she poked around drawers for something until she came up with a small object that looked like a makeshift picket sign built with simple materials. On one side was the word 'yes' and on the other, the word 'no'.

She came over and handed me the small sign before going to sit back down again. I rolled the stick end between my thumb and index, watching the words blend together.

"This way you don't have to speak if you don't want to," she seemed proud of her idea and I watched her smile warmly, getting her clipboard ready again.

"Let's start from the top, okay?"

She really expected me to answer?

"So, your mother mentioned you were having some difficulties. Can I ask you some questions to understand the situation better?"

I stared at her blankly.

"If you're worried that I'll relay any information back to her you don't have to. Whatever you say here is strictly confidential."

Mhm, sure.

"Are you afraid you could get hurt if you told anyone?"

I placed the sign on the coffee table dividing us to show that I wasn't interested in taking part.

I caught a flash of emotion across her face as she sat upright in her chair, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me Kitani. Your mom was-"

"Foster-mom."

Sara was nothing like my birth mother.

If she was shocked by my sudden response she didn't show it, "your foster mother thinks someone is hurting you. Is she right about that?"

Dammit. Now that I've answered there was no way I could go back to being quiet- and to think I was doing so well.

I looked down at the sign I'd placed on the table.

"You can use it," she spoke, sensing my hesitation and I didn't miss the self satisfied smile that flashed over her face for just an instant.

I drew for the sign and with a bored expression flipped it so the "yes" was facing me.

"Are you okay to answer a few questions?" she asked, smiling.

I flipped the 'yes' in her direction.

"Did your partner do that to you?" she used her pen to point at my neck.

I'd taken the bandaid off a few days ago, now left with a thin long scar where Masky's knife had nicked me.

Partner.

I played around with the word in my head.

Well, he's definitely something to me. My boyfriend? I wasn't sure if we were official but I kept the 'yes' turned towards her just the same.

So what if she knew.

She jotted something down before asking, "has your partner ever coerced you into sexual activity that you didn't consent to?"

My face was suddenly hot and my mouth instantly went dry. The answer to that was a little tricky. Could I say yes truthfully when I'd loved every second of it? Shame.

Shameful.

'No' I signed.

"Have you ever feared for your safety around your partner?"

My eyes danced over the room, looking for something I could use to distract me again. A means of escape. I didn't want to be here, talking to someone who could never understand.

"Okay how about we start with something easier?" She adjusted her position on the chair, "could you tell me a little bit about your early childhood- what your parents were like, maybe?"

This was a waste of time.

I flicked the sign onto the coffee table and went back to slouching in the chair.

"I don't wanna talk about this stuff anymore."

"I understand how you feel but-"

"No you actually don't."

She nodded, clasping her hands before her, "okay, make me understand."

"This is bullshit," I ground my teeth, looking her in the eyes.

"I don't think it is."

"Of course not, this is nothing to you. You just get paid to sit there and judge people."

"Do you feel judged?" She adjusted her sitting position and I rolled my eyes with a mock laugh.

"You don't even sound like a real person. Can you at least try not to sound like you're reading off a prompter?"

She let out a sigh and crossed her legs again, adjusting her glasses, "sometimes we lash out at the people who are trying to help us because we may be feeling nervous or scared. I notice you have been fidgeting quite a lot. Are you anxious about something?"

I followed her eyes to see that she was looking at the leg I'd been bouncing the whole time without realizing it.

I rested a hand on my knee, stopping the movement, "I'm not nervous and I'm definitely not scared. I just want this session to be over."

I rested my back against the couch with my arms crossed, chewing on my lower lip as I glanced up at the clock.

Ten minutes left. No big deal.

"Kitani."

At the sound of my name I turned my eyes to give her an irritated look.

"We don't have a lot of time left so I'm going to give you a little bit of homework okay?"

I raised a brow.

"It's a simple little activity," she adjusted her glasses again, looking directly at me "I want you to spend some time thinking about your relationship and if you could, get a notepad and jot down all the pros and cons you can think of. Next week when you come back we can talk about it okay?"

I didn't care to respond, only went back to staring at the clock until my eyeballs were dry.

I counted off the minutes and as soon as the time hit 5:00 pm, I grabbed my backpack and shot out of the chair, shoving the door open to make my escape.

I took a quick breather in the hallways and as I went toward the exit I pulled my phone from my pocket.

There were a few missed calls and messages from Amy but I didn't bother to check them. Placing my new headphones over my ears, I pressed play on the song I'd been listening to before my session.

Sara was waiting outside with the car idle and I sat at the back with the twins strapped into their car seat since Nick was already upfront.

As we cruised down the street I could see Sara talking to me, occasionally looking at me through the rear-view mirror, but I pretended not to notice, turning my head to look out the window, music blaring in my headphones.

As the houses went by my chest felt heavier and heavier. This is the longest I'd ever been away from him and I didn't like how it made me feel.

There was a time I thought I would prefer being left alone but not so much now.

What if he was done with me? I've alienated myself from everyone I'd previously cared about so I'd have nothing left. What was I to do with myself?

As we turned onto Cedar Street, a line of police cars came into view and I perked up in my seat with renewed interest, pulling my headphones down from over my ears.

There was a news van outside and I watched as yellow tape was being used to block off the premises from the crowd of nosy neighbours that was forming.

The flashing red and blue lights excited the twins who were kicking their little legs, babbling away and I watched paramedics load a covered body into the back of an ambulance while two more were being wheeled over on gurneys.

I turned to look as we went by, wondering if it was possibly one of the boys who'd done the deed.

Could it have been Masky?

Butterflies flitted in my tummy at the thought.

"- getting worse lately. Right in our neighborhood too," Sara was talking and as the scenery disappeared I popped my headphones back over my ears, letting the music drown out the world around me.

Maybe if I was lucky it would be him, and he'd come see me tonight.

I rested my head against the back of my seat, closing my eyes and getting lost in the music.

I thought about what my therapist had said about making a list and started conjuring one up in my mind.

Pros and cons.

Which one should I start with first?

Pros?

Well, he smells nice for one. Like a light kind of powdery musk. But there was always that underlying metallic smell too.

I smiled to myself.

He was straightforward. That's always a good thing, right?

What else?

I racked my brain for more good things about him, trying not to add 'great at sex' even though I was tempted to. He was more than just his-appendage.

I decided to put the pros list on pause, heading the cons list with 'kills for a living'.

Some would argue that con alone outweighed anything I could put on the pros list but I'd have to disagree.

The more I thought about the pros and cons, the longer the cons list grew and I stopped myself after some time.

Why was I even doing the stupid exercise anyway? It's not like it would change the way I felt about him.

Someone patted my shoulder and I opened my eyes to see Nick. He didn't even look at me, typing away on his phone as he left the car door open for me and headed inside.

I hadn't even noticed when we stopped moving.

As I exited the car my phone started ringing and I sighed, declining the call from Amy.

I got to the front door and a sound from my right caused me to pause in my tracks. I looked over to see someone signaling to me from behind the hedge and I when I peered closer I realized it was Toby.

My heart immediately lurched in my chest and I crept away from the door, heading across the lawn over to him. He had his hatchet slung over his shoulder, dripping a mysterious red substance and his eyes crinkled behind his goggles, a show that he was smiling under his mouth guard.

"L-long time no see," he spoke, twitching as he did.

"Yeah," I raised a curious brow, looking behind him, "are you alone?"

He nodded, "mhm, was j-just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd s-say hi."

I checked behind me to make sure no one was coming out of the house before I leaned in closer to Toby, "was that you, on Cedar?"

He scratched the back of his head with a shy laugh, "y-you saw that?"

"Kinda hard to miss," I grinned.

"Just blowing off s-some steam," he flashed the blood off his hatchet, "how you been?"