Chapter Eight - Another Reason We Can Break

"Y... Yes..." I stammered. "How do you know that, Dad?!" A chill ran down my spine.

"Take the bag, bring it to Blake, and then stay away from that goddamn family! Do you understand me?" he demanded, now standing right in front of me, just 20 centimetres away from my face.

How did he know I was looking for the bag? It all made no sense! I turned my head slightly to the side and looked at him, confused and sad at the same time.

"Why should I stay away from them?", I was able to free myself from my shock, but I still wasn't able to realize the situation properly. His face was tense and looked very somber from the lantern light. His eyes looked almost black.

"Because I say so! And I'm your father. You have to listen to me!" He sounded aggressive, I didn't know that side of him at all!

"But there's got to be a real damn reason for it!" I raised my voice a little, but not loud enough to call it a scream.

For some inexplicable reason, tears welled up in my eyes.

My throat kept getting dry.

"Just fucking listen to me! You'll be home in an hour, in that time you can bring the bag to Blake." He just walked away so angrily, but I didn't stop him. I really didn't know what else to say to him. His words had never made so little sense.

For a long while I stood still, unable to move. With the bag in my hand, I was staring into space. What should I do? I was supposed to bring it to Blake, but he hadn't got in touch for so long. I didn't know if he was even home or answering his cell phone, but it was worth a try.

Despite my initial hesitation, I first tried Blake's cell phone. It had taken me several attempts to dial his number as my hands were shaking incredibly wild. I took a deep breath and finally managed to type in the number.

Of course he didn't answer, what else could he do. So I left him a voicemail saying I'd leave the bag somewhere in his garden. And I let him look for it. My voice was cracked and low, but the message should have been clear enough.

Blake probably just didn't want to talk to me anymore, but this was the least I had to do.

The buzzing in my head continued and an oppressive feeling spread through me. I just wanted to throw up, but I had to stay strong.

I took a deep breath and then made my way to Blake's house. I had to think for a few moments when I finally stood in front of the gate. At night everything looked different.

Unnoticed, I tried to sneak into the garden and place the bag in some bushes there. I walked around the house and was quite proud that I had acted so inconspicuously until now. But suddenly the back door banged open and a man came out with a garbage bag in his hand.

I winced. Luckily I was able to escape quickly enough into a bush. Unfortunately I couldn't see who it was, because it was way too dark.

I quietly listened to what the man said: "Don't worry, Blake will be back, I'm sure of it." At first I wondered who he would be talking to, but then I saw Blake's mother standing in the open doorway. Her face was faintly illuminated by the interior lights as she leaned against the door.

"And what if not?" She sounded desperate. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sniffled before continuing. "First Jared and now Blake."

"But unlike Jared, Blake is not dead, just gone," the man added coldly. That was really unnecessary, I thought. It was already so difficult for her to cope with his death. And as expected, she cried even more after his sentence. He seemed to be sorry, because he started to comfort her again. Even though he was standing in the light now, I still couldn't see his face.

So, maybe that's why he didn't call me, I concluded. He was generally gone. But where had he go? And I doubted he was alone...

After some time hugging, they both went back into the house and quietly closed the door behind them.

This bastard. How could he do that to his mother after Jared? Now I was even more angry with him than before.

I was finally able to crawl out of the dew-soaked bushes. My legs were already asleep, so it took a lot of strength. I took one last look back at the bag, which I had placed perfectly, before walking back home.

I hadn't looked inside it once, so I had no idea what was inside, let alone if there was anything inside the bag at all. But Blake should take care of that. That seemed right to me.

After a few minutes I arrived home. I stopped just before the front door. I took another deep breath. I definitely didn't want to ring the bell and run into my father, so I planned to unlock it with my house key.

I reached into the pocket of my jacket and looked for my keys, rummaging around more and more frantically when I found nothing.

I swore silently to myself. That couldn't be true now, this was the most inopportune moment to forget the key. I turned all the bags inside out - nothing.

"Shit!" I cursed in a low voice and at the same time the door opened a crack. Stunned and a little confused, I pushed it fully open. But against all my expectations, there was no one there who could have opened it.

"Hello?" I called skeptically, hoping for an answer from my parents. But I could here nothing. The house seemed empty. There were no lights on either. Only a tiny candle that stood on the small cupboard in the hallway offered some light.

"Mom? ... Dad? Is anyone here?" , I called again and took a step or two in to see more. Again no one answered. I carefully closed the door behind me and turned on the lights. I immediately grabbed the first pointed object I found, in this case an umbrella, and then searched the house. I missed our old German shepherd Abby. We wouldn't have had such problems with her, she was the perfect watchdog.

I turned the house upside down in my search, looked in all the closets, but there really didn't seem to be anyone here. All I noticed was a gold box lying on the kitchen table. Maybe my parents just forgot to lock the door properly, I tried to convince myself and turned to the square box.

I took it in my hands and looked at it from all sides. It didn't look familiar to me at all. I got curious and wanted to know what was inside. So I opened it carefully and the first thing that stared at me was a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and started reading.

'A little present for you Morgan. I hope you like it, my dear.'

That's all there was on the handwritten note. Neither the script nor this choice of words seemed familiar to me. No one I knew would call me 'my dear', so the thought that it might be a cheap apology gift from my father immediately faded from my mind. But it had to come from someone. A stalker was the last thing I needed now. I then lifted the black cloth that covered the rest of the gold-decorated box's contents, revealing a beautiful necklace.

Decorated in dark gold with sinister red and blackish gemstones, it had an antique touch. I gently held it up to the light. The red shimmered like dried blood and the gems that I had initially thought were black, now showed an alpine green shimmer.

As I watched it, I almost forgot that I was alone. The necklace had had such a calming effect on me.