Drowning Lessons

Chapter Two

The next few days came and went without much drama. Everyone had stuck to their tasks like busy little bees, at night, the 'prisoners' would sit together and exchange stories about their days, lives, or anything that came to mind. Everyone seemed to enjoy each others company, when they were drinking.

Everyone had been sitting in Jay's room after dinner, drinking the last bit of vodka she had somehow smuggled into the house, when there was a knock at the door. The door flew open and a girl with long, fire engine red hair fell onto the floor. She has to be related to Jay, Frank thought with a half-amused expression on his face as he took the last swig of vodka from the bottle, staring at it and laughing.

"Shay!" Jay exclaimed, jumping off her bed and wrapping her arms around the guest, squeezing her until her head all but popped off. The newcomer giggled and fell onto her back on the bed beside Frank, staring at the ceiling. "Guys-s," Jay slurred, slumping on a nearby chair as the bed was occupied by many bodies. "This, is my sister, S-shay, Shay, this is... everyone," Jay slurred again, waving her hand dramatically toward the group. Shay smiled at everyone, grabbing more smuggled alcohol from her bag and plopping it on the center of the bed.

"Rum," everyone exclaimed excitedly at once, all taking turns at swigging. Shay smiled and chuckled, noticing how Frank's deeply colored eyes lit up in excitement over the new found treat. She hadn't known him yet, but she knew this was going to be a very good six weeks.

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Frank lay haphazardly in his bed later that night, his pillows and blankets bunched up in all different directions over his legs and feet. He had been dumped into his bed by Ray, who had been the most sober one of the bunch, but Frank couldn't sleep. He had laid on his stomach for the past two hours, staring at the wall. The wind outside billowed through the trees, howling and knocking against the windows. The rain hadn't stopped all day, and was now at its worst. Flashes of lightning brightly lit up the room every few seconds, causing Frank to snap open his eyes repeatedly.

Finally realizing there wouldn't be any peace, Frank flipped over on his back and turned on his lamp and grabbed the nearest comic book out of his bag, flipping slowly through the fine, colorful pages. He stopped every once in a while to chuckle at some odd joke or saying, reminding him of the endless hours of reading comics back home with his friends. He wished he were home at that moment, in his own bed with his dog. Hell, anywhere but there would be better.

Finally feeling dozy enough to attempt slumber once again, Frank put away his comic book, straightened out his blankets and turned off the bedside lamp. He hadn't had his eyes closed ten minutes when his eyes were forced open with the loud sound of a crash at the end of his bed. Frightened, he cautiously moved his eyes to the foot of the bed to see what the fuss was about. He saw nothing, only a dark mass of air.

Frank shrugged it off, thinking he had dozed and started dreaming, and closed his eyes once again only to have a dreadful feeling wash over him. Almost as if something terrible was impending. Frank tried with all of his might to shake away his thoughts, but to no avail. They kept pelting him like sharp little pins on a pin cushion, always nudging and prodding at his brain.

The wind still howled outside his window, giving an added effect of being lost somewhere deep in the woods in a log cabin. Almost as if he were in some terrible horror movie he used to watch with his friends as a kid, feeling as if he were being preyed upon by some sort of murderous fiend, or werewolf. What a combination, he thought, pulling the sheets up closer to his face, still not opening his eyes. For once in his life, he was actually afraid. Not afraid for his life, but afraid of what he might see.

The room lit up again and again with the taunting lightening, which he no longer found comfort and beauty in. Only fear and discomfort. The air became very chilled and thick, and Frank tried to sink as low as he could into his bed, wishing he could bolt out the bedroom door and never look back. But unfortunately, that was not an option. Frank had to brave out this feeling, hoping it was a very, very lousy dream. He again tried to push the thoughts into the back of his mind and think of happy times. Until there was a loud bang just outside his door.

He also swore he felt something brush up lightly against his face.