Page 59 of If I Loved You Less
But Shanzay is positively obsessed with horror movies. We marathon three in a row, breaking for prayer and pizza.
Despite closing my eyes and ears through most of them, the few moments I am watching, I end up screaming from jump-scare moments and even upend an entire bowl of popcorn. At the very least, Shanzay seems to be enjoying them, her eyes wide, enthralled. She’s made of stiffer stuff than I realized; she does not scream once.
It is a good distraction.
“Thank you for tonight,” says Shanzay, after the movies are done and it is quite late. She actually looks relaxed, whereas I’m too frightened to even get up from my position on the sofa in case there’s some monster hiding beneath the rug.
Why do we have so many windows in my house? To let all the murderers and rapists know just where in the house I am?
The entire house is dark. It creaks from the wind, and I startle. Does the house always sound like this? And why is it sobig? A dozen robbers could be hiding in various closets, waiting to attack, and I would be none the wiser!
“Shan, please turn on the lights,” I say, peeking out from beneath my blanket. “All of them, thanks.” She does, and I dash up quickly out of sight of the windows to walk her to the door.
“I better get going now,” she says, grabbing her purse. Oh God, she’s going to leave me alone!
“Why don’t you sleep over?” I ask, tone casual. “You can leave early in the morning to make it in time for class.”
“That’s sweet, but I don’t have any of my things.”
“You can borrow mine!”
She laughs. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
“No, no ... no,” I say, waving a hand. She raises a brow.
“Okay…” She makes a quick motion towards me. I shriek and jump back. “Youareafraid!”
I scowl at her. “Okay, fine, I am afraid! What type of sadist enjoys those movies?!”
Shanzay laughs. “I really can’t stay, but you’ll be fine,” she says. “Just go to bed. I’m sure your dad will be here soon.”
I pout, but she really must be off. She gives me a hug, then leaves, and I lock the door behind her, watching from the side window to make sure she makes it to her car without being abducted. Then I am well and truly alone.
I know I should go clean up the mess in the family room where we were sitting, but there are too many windows there. I don’t even go to turn the lights off. I feel like going into hiding so I head to the safest place, my room.
I settle into bed, leaving my side lamp on as I am too afraid of the dark. I lie flat on my back, too afraid to turn to one side.
I close my eyes, trying to sleep, my thoughts slowly drifting towards unconsciousness…
The house creaks. My eyes fly open.
Did I lock the door?
Oh God.
It does lock automatically, but did Ihearit lock? What if the automatic lock is broken? Anyone could come in! My heart hammers against my chest. I reach for my phone and quickly dial Papa’s number.
It’s nearly midnight, why isn’t he home yet?
“Papa, when are you coming home?”
“I’ll be home in an hour or so, the Hoffman plans are all wrong, and there’s no one around to fix them, so I must do it myself—wait a minute.” He pauses. “Why are you whispering?”
“Oh, no reason,” I say, increasing my voice only a little and staring warily at my bedroom door.
“Is everything alright?” His tone is worried. “I can come home now…”
“No, no, the Hoffman plans are due tomorrow,” I say, trying to sound calm. “I was just wondering?—”
