You've got Problems?

Chapter 3: Midnight Hitter


Myer sat upright in his bed and screamed. His muscles were trembling and sweat poured out all over his body. He brought his hands to his face as he tried desperately to fight back the shudders that raked through him. Taking a few deep breaths, he wiped a few tears that slide down his cheeks away.

Weakly climbing out of his bed, Myer stumbled over to his desk and clicked the lamp on. The image staring back at him in the smooth surface of the mirror was a ghastly sight. His face was pale with darkening rings forming around his eyes, which were bloodshot. Already he could feel his head beginning to throb.

It was the dream again. He didn’t know why, but every once and a while, it would come back to him. And every time, it was always the same thing. In his dreams, Myer would be running for the overturned car that his mother drove. Flames had already consumed it, and he could hear her anguished cries from within the wreckage. No matter how hard he tried or how much pain he endured, Myer would never be able to force his way through the sheets of flame to grab his mother’s outstretched hand. And as the flames would drive him back, she would cry out for him, asking why he had done this to her, why she was suffering because of him.

He hated having to relive the pain, but nothing would make it go away. Myer didn’t dare to tell his dad anything about the nightmares. If he did that, he feared that his dad might try to send him to a psychiatrist, or even worse, a mental institution. As he looked himself in the mirror again, Myer convinced himself once more that he was getting better. The dreams were only happening about once a month now, and mostly occurred when his dad really got under his skin.

Sighing from the feeling of emptiness that overcame him, Myer dragged himself into the bathroom out in the hallway. He took a few sips from the cup he kept on the sink and used the rest to splash his face with the cold water. Just to be sure that a headache didn’t keep him up most of the night, Myer took some aspirin. As much as he didn’t like school, he knew that his dad would have another fit if he was late again.

Stumbling back into his room, Myer quietly took off the wet sheets and tossed them to the floor. He laid back down on his bed and wrapped the top sheet around himself. He looked at the clock, and grunted when he realized that it was 2:17 in the morning. What a time to have nightmares.

Myer rested his head into his pillows and stared up at the ceiling. It was a rather dark night, leaving only tiny slivers of dim moonlight seeping into his room. Myer did his best to try and take his mind of thinking about his mother, or his father, or anything really. He just lay there, trying to form patterns and shapes out of the nothingness that was the roof to his room.

It took some time, but finally he began to feel the effects of sleep pulling at him once more. Grateful to know that he wasn’t going to spend another night wide awake, Myer threw a pillow over his head and shut his eyes. Relief flowed from his lips as he let his mind drift off.

CRACK.

Myer jolted upright once again. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Wildly he scanned the room, searching for any signs of things amiss. Fear built up inside his chest and he strained his ears for any sound. When he heard nothing, his gut twisted into a knot. Heart gripping fears as to the state of his sanity flooded over him as Myer worried that he had become so crazy that he was now hearing things.

He sat in his bed for over a minute still as a statue. Beads of sweat began to dribble down his face once more as he felt a heavy pressure form in his chest.

CRACK.

There it was again. And this time Myer was certain that he had heard it. There was just no way that it was a figment of his imagination, which he was even more certain about. Relief overcame him as he realized that he was not indeed crazy. The relief quickly faded, and was replaced by curiosity. Taking slow breaths, Myer put his entire mind on figuring out what the sound was and where it was coming from.

CRACK.

Happening again a third time, Myer was able to recognize the metallic clang that accompanied the sound. And he also was able to tell that it had come from next door. Feeling his mind practically drooling for answers, he pried his window open and stuck his head out and waited. About a minute later, he heard the sound for the fourth time. Myer finally pinpointed that the noise was coming from the back yard of his neighbor’s house.

“What the hell’s going on over there?” he muttered to himself. Myer strained to see what was happening in the back yard. But with hardly any light from the waning moon and the multitude of the tree’s branches blocking the view, Myer could only see shadows.

Cursing under his breath, he ducked back inside and shut the window. Slipping into a ragged pair of jeans and a badly worn shirt, Myer crept out of his room. As much as he didn’t like his dad, he still feared him. He knew that his dad was liable to smack him if he caught him wandering around the house at such a late hour. Working his way down the stairs, he cursed sharply in his mind every time he heard the wooden steps creek under the weight of his feet. He wondered why the hell the steps always seemed to get so damn loud in the middle of the night when you didn’t want to make noise.

Making his way downstairs, Myer quietly unlocked the back door and squeezed himself out. He nearly screamed when he stumbled over a discarded paint can carelessly left lying on the back porch. Fortunately, he was able to catch himself before he took a nasty tumble. Myer felt shudders roll up his legs as he crept out onto the damp ground barefoot. Sneaking over to the fence, he heard the sound again, and it was without a doubt coming from the other side.

He reached for the top of the fence to pull himself up for a look over the side, and felt his frustration build when he remembered that the fence was close to seven feet. Those damn Smiths were squirrelly old people, and now felt himself getting mad at their paranoia. What ever was going on in the other yard, he didn’t want to get caught peeking over the edge. Knowing that he would cause too much noise trying to get up on his side, Myer put his mind to work on figuring out how to get past his dilemma. The answer hit him like a sucker punch.

Myer remembered that the portion of the Smith’s fence facing to woods behind the two houses was shorter than the rest of the perimeter. For once, he was grateful that the two oldies at least liked to take in a nice view of nature. Trying his best to not make that much noise, Myer crept out his backyard through the small door they had kept at the corner on the opposite side of the Smith’s house. As he moved towards the low portion of the fence, he felt his heart beginning to pick up pace. Try as he might to not let his mind wonder, it came up with a vast array of explanations for what he had heard in the short half minute it took for him to get to the fence.

Myer took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. When he felt ready, he grabbed the top of the low fence and slowly peeked over. Myer never heard the next sharp crack, but he sure felt the sledgehammer blow that socked him right in the forehead. He yelped out a cry of pain as he tumbled back, his world a spinning wreck. Falling flat on his back, Myer grasped his head and gritted his teeth as wave of pain radiated throughout his head.

He was so distracted by the pain that he didn’t hear the sound of running footsteps, nor the rattling of someone climbing over the fence.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?” He heard someone say.

Myer sat up but still kept his hand firmly grasped around his head. He looked up at the mystery person. “Yeah, but that….”

The words died in his throat instantly when he saw who was standing over him. Myer may have been hurt bad, but there was no way that he could mistake the fact that he was starring up at a girl. She was clad in a pair of shorts and what looked to be a sports jersey. In the dimness of the night, he just barely made out her features. When he did, Myer didn’t know whether to be mesmerized or freaked out.

Her skin was pale, much paler than he had ever thought a person could have. And her hair, it was white. Not frosty blonde, but white as snow. As she leaned closer to him, he saw a pair of deep grey eyes that seemed to have no end to them. The girl’s whole appearance made her seem almost otherworldly. And yet, these traits only served to make her amazingly beautiful.

Being in the presence of a near goddess, Myer found himself speechless. Kneeling down next to him, she specter like girl stared Myer straight in the eyes.

“I said, are you alright?” she asked him.

Myer felt that her words had a kind of hypnotic effect on him, for he snapped out of his trance. “Yeah, yeah.” He muttered. The girl frowned. Her eyebrows, which were just as white as the hair flowing from her head, rose questioningly. If someone had shot Myer right in that moment, it would have made his day. He couldn’t believe that he had blubbered out such a ridiculous string of words like that.

The mystery girl didn’t seem to take any notice of his apparent loss of speech. She reached out and gently moved his hands away from his forehead. Her fingers kind of cold to the touch, which caused him to shudder. Not knowing what to say or do, Myer looked at the ground.

“That’s not too bad of a bump.” She said. “I don’t if I should say that you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt more, or that you’re unlucky that you did get hit.”

“What….what hit me?” he managed to get out of his trembling lips.

The girl reached at a dark space on the ground, and displayed a large round object to him. “Softball.” She said. “You’re lucky I wasn’t using baseballs, or you might have been really hurt.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He said as she helped him to his feet.

The girl rubbed her thumb across the aching portion of his head, and a look of concern came over her face. “We better get some ice on that, or it’ll swell bad. Wait right here.”

Before he could object, she hurtled over the fence with both grace and skill that left Myer stunned. He braced himself against the fence and waited for her to return. She was back faster than he expected. She handed him a bag of ice, which he gratefully accepted.

“What the heck were you doing anyway? Spying on girls in the middle of the night a hobby of yours?” she asked. Myer felt coldness rush all through him.

“No, no, no!” Myer stammered. “It wasn’t like that at all. You see….I heard a noise…..I didn’t know what it was…..so I wanted to see.”

The girl folded her arms and smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to just believe you then. But you’re being here is still suspicious.”

Myer couldn’t say anything in response to that. He just put the bag over his throbbing head and leaned against the fence. The girl stared around aimlessly for a few moments, as if she were taking in the sites of the woods.

“I take it you live next door, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Myer said, “And you just moved in, right?”

“Yep. My folks and I moved out here from the east coast. They said they wanted the quiet life up in these parts.”

Myer tried to think of something else to say to her. But standing there, staring at someone who was so strange yet so stunning at the same time, he couldn’t find any words that would fit the awkward situation that he was in.

“So, Mr. peeper.” She said, “You’ve got a name?”

“Myer.” He answered.

The girl held out her hand to him. “I’m Lilly, nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Was all he could manage as he took her hand, with that oddly cold grip, and shook it.

After she pulled her hand back, she glanced at a small watch around her wrist. “Well, Myer, it’s been fun, but it’s almost three in the morning. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you around, later.”

Myer opened his mouth to say something, but in a flash, she was over the fence and gone. Myer stood there, stunned as he was for some time. When he finally regained his senses, he slipped back into his house. Once back up in his room, he chanced a glance out his window again, just to see if he could catch another glimpse of the mysterious Lilly. But again, his efforts were thwarted by the tree’s thick growth.

“What a weird girl.” Myer said, laying back down in his bed. “What the heck was up with those eyes and that hair?” The question to himself was a silly one, because he knew perfectly well that he didn’t have any kind of answer.

As he lay there with the ice pack on his head, Myer couldn’t stop thinking about how strange that Lilly was. “Maybe I can get to know her a little better in school tomorrow.”

Myer rolled over in his bed and stared out the window. “A girl like that, people will notice.” And before he could think about it any more, Myer was sound asleep.