~~ Page 5 ~~

Hannah waited alone, on a bench, at the center of Division Park, one of the smaller parks in Somewhere. It was hers and Norah’s preferred meeting place compared to the bigger parks that attracted more people. This place felt more quaint and peaceful by comparison, with a little bridge, a creek, several benches, and even a little fountain.

Oh please, not now.

I try not to think about that.

I don’t find it funny at all.

I feel like I’m your hostage.

At this, Hannah inched a finger to the pocket knife in her hoodie pocket. Touching it always sent a chill up her spine.

Why do you always make me bring this?

For my safety? From what exactly? And can you really justify saving my life if you’re putting me in danger this often?

Hannah didn’t have a counter for this. Though she preferred to stick up for herself as much as she could, she knew she couldn’t afford to push back against her too hard.

She was right after all, she had her ways.

Fine.

Hannah spat her inner monologue back at the foreign voice in her head. She hated it when she tried to play buddy with her. Still, the fact that there was some truth to her words was something that Hannah hated even more.

“Helped you out… Saved your life...”

Three years prior, something occurred in Hannah’s life that neither she, nor her family were equipped to handle. It was all still so fresh in her mind. She couldn’t forget it, no matter how much she wanted to.

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The Honey family had been living in the same house since Hannah had been born. In fact, her parents, Richard and Lucille, had lived there for several years even before the arrival of their daughter. It was a modest, little suburban home, where notions of upscaling and renovating always came about in conversation, but never into reality. Their cabinets were charmingly outdated. Most of the walls were colored a bold, assertive hue of dark evergreen. They even had a VCR and sound system from the 90’s hooked up to their bulky CRT TV in the living room. It was a home that seemed needlessly cemented in the past.

Needless especially since the Honey’s had the income to dramatically improve the value of their home. Hannah’s mother, Lucille, had been a pediatrician for almost 20 years by that time. And though he wasn’t quite the breadwinner of the family, Hannah’s father, Richard, had worked as a museum curator in the city for even longer than that. His 70 minute commute into Somewhere was always tiresome, but to him, it was worth it if it meant doing what he loved.

If there was anything that defined the Honey family the most, it was how much they stuck true to their charming, yet dated values despite the turbulent trends of modern life. Their home was no exception to this, and arguably even served as an effortless representation of their lifestyle. The Honey’s loved their home. It was quirky and dated, but it was theirs. 

And for years, no one else in the world bothered with it.

At least not until someone discovered that within this charming, cozy, little home, an impressive collection of important records and journal entries was stored in a meager little closet. In great detail, these documents described a place that both did and did not reside at the bottom of the universe, as well as what did and did not exist there. Hannah’s father had been collecting these documents long before he had ever even met Lucille. Besides his family, they were his greatest treasure. And though Hannah had never read them, she knew how important they were to her father, particularly one book that he had shown her when she was in elementary school: a black book with the astrological symbol for Aquarius painted on the front in blood red paint.

Everything changed that night, in the middle of Hannah’s summer break between 8th and 9th grade. The night the thief broke in.

Hannah, to her family's advantage, was a very light sleeper. She was also a very observant person, who knew every square inch of her family’s home from top to bottom. So, when the intruder stepped on that one creaky floorboard just outside her father’s storage closet, just one floor beneath her bedroom, she awoke almost immediately.

It was the sound that had woken her up, but from outside her window, a strange, green light seemed to ooze through her bedroom blinds. Tiptoeing to her window, she peeked outside to see something she’d only ever expect to find in a science fiction movie. 

There, an ethereal, oval shaped portal, about the size of an average doorway, floated a foot or two off the ground in the middle of her backyard. Its perimeter shone a bright, warbling green that spun around an unexplainable opening in spacetime. Hannah had never seen anything like it before, and she feared that that may be the same case for whoever (or whatever) was now raiding her father’s documents.

I need to get Mom and Dad.

As quietly as she possibly could, Hannah approached her bedroom door. She only opened the door just enough before it would get to the point she knew it would start creaking. She squeezed herself through the meager opening that she allowed herself to create.

Her parents’ bedroom was just across the hall from her own. And lucky for her, she knew every creaky floorboard by memory, careful to avoid that one spot at the right side of the hallway as she stepped out from her bedroom. With the same, careful approach that she used with opening her own door, she opened her parent’s bedroom door, once again successful in preventing any unnecessary sounds.

Stepping into the room however, her heart sank.

Oh no…

Their bed was neatly made, with no one sleeping in it. They had left earlier that evening for dinner and a movie out in the city. Even if they were done with everything that they had planned for the night, they still had to make the long drive back home.

The alarm clock next to their bed displayed 11:08 PM in bright green, digital numbers.

I can’t just stand here.

Just as quietly as she had opened it, she closed the door behind her. Staying still for a moment, Hannah listened for the intruder again. Still, she could hear the sounds of boxes and papers being rifled through. Pages and pages of information that she herself had never taken the time to read, or even ask her father about, were now in the hands of someone, or something, that she had never met before.

As fight or flight began to pilot Hannah’s train of thought, she recalled something that happened just a couple months prior.

…

Richard set his newly acquired pistol back into its beige lockbox on the kitchen counter, “Lucy, I know it seems dangerous, but I’ve heard that crime rates have been increasing in the city recently. Besides, the neighbors just got one too! I even took the permit classes with Steve next door.”

Hannah had been reading on the couch, only to look up and overhear what her parents were arguing over.

Lucille pinched the bridge of her nose, “You’re right, I know we agreed that it would be safer to have one, and I’m happy to know that you’re trained of course. I guess… It will just take some getting used to. Knowing it’s in the house and all.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep it stashed away in our room upstairs. That way an intruder wouldn’t be able to get it before we can,” Richard set the box down and put a hand on his wife’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure her.

“That’s a good plan, Richard. And I guess, while we’re at it, some security cameras wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

“Now you’re talking! Maybe then I’ll catch that racoon that’s been digging through our garbage!” The two of them laughed, lightening the mood.

Hannah hadn’t chimed into this discussion at the time, but the details stuck out distinctly in her mind. It was then that she first asked her pen pal, Norah, what she knew about firearms.

…

Since then, she had watched a few online training videos on how to handle a gun cautiously and for self defence. Her curiosity was only ever for constructive understanding, should she ever need to use the weapon in a time of crisis, like right now. She never thought to use such a thing for combative, offensive reasons, nor did she ever see herself actually having to use it defensively for that matter. She simply wanted to be informed.

Wasting no time, she made her way to her parent’s bedroom closet to find the lockbox. At the floor of the closet, hidden behind a hamper and some shoe boxes, Hannah found the box, dragging it out so she could access it.

Locked…

As it should have been. On the front, lay a keypad which accepted four digits. Her parents had never told Hannah the code, but Hannah already had some ideas.

Mom’s birthday.

0927

The code didn’t work. The box remained locked.

Hmm… Dad’s birthday.

0508

Didn’t work.

Maybe their wedding day.

0211

Didn’t work.

Oh! Maybe my birthday!

0301

Didn’t work.

Hmmm… maybe…

Hannah recalled her father telling the story of how the museum first opened. Back in the day, he was hired part time as a tour guide, and would begin work the very first weekend it opened to the public. He told Hannah how even back then, he swore to his boss at the time that he would be honored to serve as his successor someday.

“That was 35 years ago, May 30th, 1975”

0530

CLICK

With the lockbox opened, Hannah looked inside to see her father’s pistol for the first time: a Smith and Wesson M&P9 2.0. Hannah knew enough about firearms to know how strange this particular weapon was at first glance. Though it wasn’t particularly special as an aluminum build pistol that could serve well as a home defense weapon, it was the fact that this particular model hadn’t been released yet, to her knowledge at least. Hannah figured her father knew more about home defense pistols than her, but not more than the average firearms owner.

As quietly as she could, she opened the magazine to check if it was loaded. 

Full. Seventeen 9mm rounds.

Hmm… he’s prepared.

She checked the chamber indicator. Sure enough, the pistol was already loaded.

She then went to check the safety, which was already clicked on to prevent accidental injury.

He knows what he’s doing.

Now armed for the first time in her life, Hannah closed the closet door and crouched down to remain unseen. Fearing the worst, she unclicked the safety. She then struggled to sort out her next course of action, the severity of the documents still weighing on her.

Those documents are your dad’s and they are very important! You should go out there and fight!

No, I should stay here. It’s too dangerous.

But what if Dad can’t afford to lose those documents?

I’d like to think that Dad and Mom would rather lose some papers than lose their daughter.

Considering herself the most valuable asset in the home at the time, Hannah remained in her hiding place, listening to the continued sounds of ruffling and grunting just one floor below.

THUD

“Dammit, where is it?”

It was a man’s voice. Hoarse, yet it sounded human enough. And in English too. Hannah had wondered if this was, somehow, a space travelling alien, given the strange nature of the portal outside. Even so, this voice sounded too human to her.

Still, Hannah wasn’t curious enough to go down there and find out firsthand. Safety was by far her highest priority.

Just stay here. You’ll make it through this. Mom and Dad will be home any minute now.

“EEK!”

From shock and adrenaline alone upon hearing a stranger's voice suddenly introduce itself, Hannah shrieked without restraining her volume. Within a fraction of a second, she had compromised herself in the worst way possible. Eyes wide in horror, she covered her mouth with her free hand.

Look what you did, genius! Now he’s gonna get away!

Hannah looked around, unable to find the source of this unknown voice. It sounded strange, and echoey too. Like it wasn’t around her, nor from within her mind, but… next to it.

W-who… where are you?

All at once, in a flurried kind of feeling that she had never felt before, Hannah felt every inch of her body feel some kind of tense, yet numb pulling sensation all at once. She would recall this feeling like a series of wires that had coiled around her muscles and bones, as if she had suddenly become wound up like a puppet.

At this, the voice next to Hannah’s mind began to speak through her mouth, standing Hannah’s body up to its feet.

Wait! Stop! Let me go!

CRASH

With complete disregard for keeping her presence unknown, Hannah’s body lunged forward into a sprint out of her parent’s bedroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs. 

From her eyes, Hannah could see the wooden backdoor ajar, while the additional glass door was now freshly shattered into pieces. And out beyond, in the backyard, Hannah could see her home intruder, not running but gliding towards the portal.

Her previous theory of human scientists inventing teleportation couldn’t have been further from the truth. What she saw now made much less sense than that.

What first caught Hannah’s eye was a pair of bat-like wings that spread out well past the length of the creature’s arms as he flew across the yard. They folded back in as he landed, revealing that the humanoid looking creature was staggeringly tall, easily seven and a half feet in height.

Narrowing her eyes even more, Hannah noticed what she could only assume to be some kind of futuristic looking armor. Along several surfaces of his body, panels of light, possibly screens even, flashed and flickered with numbers and words and charts in various colors and light intensities. Unmasked, his head remained bare and unprotected.As he turned around, for only a moment to see who had heard him escape the house, Hannah could see his facial features clearer: an upturned nose, a cruel scowl, and a pair of white horns that sprouted from his forehead.

This vision would never leave Hannah’s mind for as long as she lived. He looked like he came from hell: bloodthirsty and terrifying, yet… distinctly young. Hannah had no way of classifying this creature’s age, but something in his eyes looked distinctly youth-like to her. She wondered if the two of them were, somehow, the same age.

His voice sounded blood curdling, despite being able to speak to her without even opening his mouth.

Starting down at meager, young Hannah, he found the additional gall to gloat, proudly waving what he now held in his hands. In one, a strange, translucent looking bottle contained what appeared to be a white, glowing koi fish. Hannah had no idea where it came from.

In his other hand however was something that Hannah found to be much more familiar, the black book with the astrological symbol for Aquarius painted on the front in blood red paint.

Dad’s book…

At this, Hannah’s body once more acted on its own, raising the pistol towards its now arrogant and ignorant target.

BANG

Within the span of a single second, the beast seemed to understand just who he was dealing with. Any confidence he may have had, now drained like water from a toppled glass. 

The bullet shot out towards the monster, making contact with one of his wings. Through his mouth this time, he screamed.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Swallowing his pride, the creature doubled over into the portal. His damaged wing fluttered weakly behind him as a slimy smile crept on his face. And suddenly, faster than Hannah could blink, the portal closed instantaneously behind him.

At this, someone else made their presence known, “Hannah? Hannah is everything alright?” Hannah knew this voice. It was Steve, one of her neighbors from next door, now in his own backyard in his pajamas. 

Hannah made a desperate attempt to control her mouth again, only to fail.

No… don’t come closer. Please!

Steve turned on a flashlight and pointed it toward Hannah, illuminating her surroundings, “Hannah I heard a gunshot and saw a strange, green light coming from back here. Are you okay? Are your parents home?”

No, stop! Leave him alone! He won’t bother you!

“What? Hannah, it’s me, Steve!” It was then that Steve noticed that Hannah was the one who was armed. He raised his hands in the air in an attempt to keep the situation under control, “Just put the gun down. I’m your neighbor, Steve. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“My name isn’t Hannah, it’s Pisces! And I told you to mind your own damn business!”

Impatient, Pisces cocked the gun and took aim. Hannah tried as hard as she could to move her mouth, this time succeeding.

“NO! DON’T!”

BANG

Unlike the monster, Steve didn’t scream as the bullet made contact with his body. Instead his face suddenly grew pale, freezing into a look of terrified confusion. He didn’t even bother to look down at the new wound in his leg, somehow maintaining the strength to stand, if only for a moment longer. Hannah could see the look in his eyes, where not a single ounce of anger lingered, despite what had just happened.

Another voice, “Steve? Steve what happ- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” Hannah knew this voice too, Steve’s wife Lorraine. In her pajamas, she ran out into their backyard barefoot, “Steven! Steven! Who did this to you?”

Pisces attempted to move Hannah’s legs to escape, but something kept them cemented in place, despite her efforts.

Why… Why did you do that? You… shot him.

Don’t… Don’t leave me here!

And just as quickly as she had lost it, Hannah regained complete control of the rest of her limbs. Still, she stood frozen in place.

Why did you do that? Why did you shoot him?

What have you… done…

Though Hannah tried to stay certain about it, she suddenly couldn’t say for certain who it was that talked in her mind and controlled her limbs like that. It was then that a memory revealed itself: a miniscule, yet all too eerie conversation about multiple personalities in mystery fiction. Norah was intrigued by the concept, but the idea had freaked Hannah out significantly at the time. It seemed different from things like ghosts or serial killers, which seemed so trivial and straight forward by comparison. By its nature, a dissociated identity is invasive, and dangerously intimate. The idea of one being two (or even more) as a result of the reckless and desperate throes of primal, survival instinct. The idea of where one’s individuality ends, and something else begins becomes nebulous and daunting.

Her own train of thought horrified her as she put the pieces together towards the only conclusion that made sense to her at that moment. The notion that maybe there never was a “someone else” in the first place.

What… have I done…

…

The police got two calls that night for the same crisis, one from Steve’s wife Lorraine, and another from Hannah herself. Her parents would arrive just two minutes later to find their injured neighbor, and their terrified daughter.

Richard ran over to the stretcher that carried Steve, Lucille close behind, “Steve, who did this to you?”

“It was… your daughter. I know that sounds scary but… for some reason I don’t think it was her. Something didn’t seem right with her, Rich. You should… find her.” At this, Steve’s consciousness faded.

Next door, two police cars had pulled into the driveway of the Honey household. Out of their front door, Richard and Lucille could see their daughter being carried out in a straightjacket. Her parents wouldn’t find out until afterwards that she had not only called to alert the authorities for an ambulance, but also to turn herself in.

She repeated her words like a broken record, in a quiet, terrified kind of whisper, as if she needed to say them, but was afraid of being heard.

“I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. I’m a monster. ”

…

The next day at the hospital, the police explained to Hannah’s parents everything else that they had figured out about the incident. The officer explained the details solemnly, “We reviewed the security footage from your cameras. It was a break in but it looked like the burglar only had eyes for whatever was in your storage closet on the first floor. What we’re still trying to figure out though is just who this burglar was. He wasn’t wearing a mask, but his face doesn’t match any of our records. Our best guess at the moment is that he used some kind of advanced, cosmetic make up to disguise his face. Though we’re not even sure what to make of his devil horns.”

Richard pounded his fist on the table, “We don’t give a damn about any of that! What about Hannah!?”

Lucille fought back tears, but didn’t do anything to restrain her furious husband.

The officer raised his hands in an attempt to ease the tension, “Of course, I’m sorry sir. We actually learned more from your daughter last night. Apparently, she was unable to sleep in her cell. All night, she was sobbing and contradicting herself, saying, ‘That wasn’t me’ and ‘That was me.’”

Lucille and Richard demanded to see their daughter immediately. They had never seen their daughter speak or act like that before. It simply wasn’t like her, and they both felt incredibly certain of that. 

…

The next day, the Honeys were permitted to visit their daughter. Seeing her parents again for the first time, Hannah began to cry, ashamed of what she had become that night.

“I’m so sorry. That was me. I’m so sorry. That wasn’t me. I’m so sorry.”

Richard and Lucille would end up rewatching the footage caught on their home security cameras several times over. They saw everything, from Hannah hiding in her parent’s bedroom closet, to the monster’s pursuit through the storage closet on the first floor, to even when the gun was fired in the backyard. Both times.

…

Two months later, after Hannah sat through weeks of rehabilitation, it was decided that the family would have to move out from their little home. Hannah’s parents claimed that this was for work related reasons, but in truth, this was for the sake of the family’s anonymity and safety. After all, if just one burglar could catalyze this kind of reaction within their daughter, then they couldn’t stay where they were already in danger.

Even though it was in everyone’s best interest, moving to a new place was the last thing that Hannah wanted after an experience like that. She loved her home. She loved that her parents loved their home. She felt as though she took that away from them. She felt terribly guilty about it all.

She would end up reaching out to her friend Norah over the phone about it for some advice.

“Keep calm, approach situations as gradually as you can, and don’t be afraid to ask for help! You’ll be fine, just the way you are. Besides, you’ll be living much closer to me now! We can meet up in person finally!”

Hannah found some solace in this advice. She wanted to better herself and to keep this other side of herself in check, should it ever come back. And for just a second, Hannah felt as though she actually could. That night, she decided within herself to hang on to that confidence as much as she could, for the sake of her family.

To Hannah’s misfortune however, this was also the night that a certain someone determined that she had spent enough time laying low.

Go away, please.

…

While settling into their new home, a reasonably sized family apartment in the heart of the city, Hannah’s parents would notice their daughter suddenly become much more self-disciplined, at the cost of becoming much more anxious in the process. In particular, her parents would notice her trying to crack her knuckles, even when they couldn’t make any more sounds.

From then on, Lucille and Richard were always concerned for their daughter. They wanted to keep her happy and safe, now more than ever. Still, they didn’t want to be too overbearing as she began to explore her new life in the city called “Somewhere”. 

“How was school?”

“Good. I’m… going to the library to meet Norah so we can study. I’ll be back later.”

“Alrighty. Have fun and stay safe.”

Despite Hannah staying out well past the average teenager’s curfew time, her parents never had it in themselves to ask her more about it, afraid of prying into their daughter’s new lifestyle, troubling her more they felt she deserved. At the same time, Hannah lived in constant fear that she would eventually have to explain herself to her parents, admitting that this someone else was not only still there, but now ordering her around, looking for what was stolen from her: that little white koi fish.

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“Hannah? Hellooooo? Is anybody in there?” Norah had been waving her hand in front of Hannah’s face, as if she weren’t on planet Earth anymore. 

“Huh? What? Oh, it’s just you.” Hannah said as she snapped back into reality.

“Freaky. You were really zoned out there.”

“Was I? Sorry, I was… thinking about a memory.”

“What kind of memory?” Norah tilted her head.

“Uhh… don’t worry about it. C’mon, let’s go find your brother’s girlfriend. Ginny, right?”

As they turned to leave the park, Norah pulled out a city map from her pocket, “I marked up the places that could be her popular venues. I don’t have a phone yet, so this will have to do.”

From there, the three of them set off into Somewhere, looking for a woman and a fish.

~~ Page 5 ~~