James Gullickson

Will struggled to break free and almost did, until the feeling of hot breath tickled his ear, like a voice whispering something to him.

He barely heard it, but Will felt it.

The hand suddenly pulled him even harder and Will tumbled to the floor.

Finally, he pulled his hand free with a scream that didn't make it past his throat.

He stumbled back, hitting the wall.

The hat fell to the floor, the cape spilling out of it like blood from a wound.

He gathered up the kit with shaking hands, put everything back in the box, put the box in his closet, all the way in the back, behind his winter coats.

Then he got back into bed and pulled the covers over his head like a child hiding from monsters.

He didn't sleep.

Saturday arrived.

The doorbell rang.

Audra was here.

Will hid out in the basement as long as he could, listening to the footsteps overhead, the muffled voices, the shriek of Lily's laughter.

He could picture the scene.

Audra hugging their parents.

Armin firmly shaking his father's hand.

Lily running from room to room exploring a house she'd visited a dozen times.

He had to go up eventually.

His mother called down the stairs, bright and insistent, and he couldn't avoid it any longer.

Will slunk into the now crowded kitchen.