Chapter one: He came in the night

An uneasy feeling overcame me, I felt extremely nauseous and dreadful. I peered over at the clock; it read 3 AM. I scuttled to the bathroom, in an attempt to throw up and to get a cup of water. I turned on the lights and waited for my still-tired eyes to adjust to the brightness of the fluorescent bathroom light. That’s when I saw it. My name was written on the wall in blood. The message read “Blaire, riverbanks at twilight. I have your parents” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “MOM?!?!? DAD?!?!? ARE YOU HERE?” An ominous silence engulfed the otherwise deserted house. I went back to my room to check the clock; it read 3:15. I had 45 minutes until twilight.

I quickly got dressed and hopped on my bike. I could see the sun starting to rise; I checked my watch: 3:30 am. I thought ‘shit 15 more minutes.’ I pedaled faster, praying that I would still make it to the river in time. I arrived at the river, and I could see the unmistakable auburn of my mom’s beautiful, bright curls reflecting in the young sunlight, and I saw that she was still alive. I breathed a sigh of relief. I called out to her “Mom are you okay? I’m here, don’t worry.” “Silence!” I could hear a digitally morphed voice boom at me. “Come closer, Blaire, don’t be afraid. Mommy and daddy are just fine, and they’d be even better if you were to come closer.” I took a big gulp. I could hear my heart pounding in my in my ears, my throat felt drier than the desert. I dropped my bike and walked over to my parents and the mysterious figure looming in the dark.

As I walked closer the rising sun seemed to get dimmer by every step I took. When I was about three feet away from my parents, the sky was pitch black. An owl hooted somewhere on a nearby branch. I could feel another wave of nausea overwhelmed me. I took another step closer to the where my parents were. SNAP! My heart leaped, but thankfully, it was just a twig on the ground. I looked around trying to make out my parents in the dark. I noticed that the sky was black, and not even the moon made an appearance. I had never been so scared in my life. Sweat was streaming down my forehead. I was trembling with every step I took. The trees seemed to be closing in on me.

As I got even closer, I could see my father laying on the damp, sodden ground of the riverbank. “Daddy!” “Oh Blaire, darling, don’t you see? Daddy can’t hear you.” The electronic voice mocked me. “Did you kill him?” I asked fearfully. “He’s still alive, but barely, I suppose you could call it a state of extreme stupor.” I looked at my father laying on the floor; his face was lined with old dark crimson blood. A thought leaped through my mind, did this thing use my dad’s blood to write the message on the wall? The thought disgusted me greatly. I turned around and saw my mother’s arm being held by a metal claw-like hand. I froze. “Blaire,” The voice continued “If you want your parents alive and happy, you will have to do my bidding until your birthday, and if you accomplish all tasks correctly you can consider your parents to be your birthday present from me,” He sneered. “My birthday isn’t for another 14 days, what would you want me to do in that amount of time?” “Blaire, do you have your phone with you?” I nodded. “We shall stay in contact over text messages,” He said. I took another gulp and agreed, I gave him my number. “Say goodbye to your parents dear Blaire.” I turned around to get one last look at my mom and dad. In the corner of my left eye, I could see the looming creature cut the length of my mother’s arm, blood gushing down, and cascading off of her long and elegant fingertips. With that, all three of them disappeared.

I was walking back to my bike when I received my first text message. He apparently wanted me to refer to him as the Babadook. The message read: ‘At school tomorrow I want you to cut off all of Sophia’s luscious blonde locks.’ Reading that almost brought me to tears. Sophia took great pride in her hair because to her it was a symbol of health and recovery, seeing as she had stopped her chemotherapy a little over three years ago now. Back when we were nine Sophia was diagnosed with leukemia. She lost her hair the year after, and now, six years after diagnosis, her hair reached just past her shoulder blades. Her hair was thick, beautiful, and blonde, just how I’d remembered it from childhood. It felt wrong having to choose between my parents and my best friend, but I knew that Sophia wouldn’t die if I cut her hair, she could grow it out again; although that it would emotionally distraught her, and maybe cause her to spiral into a state of depression, and if she discovered that I did it, she’d detest me for the rest of eternity, but if I didn’t cut her hair, my parents would be paying the price.

With tears in my eyes, I biked back home. Seeing as I had one more day of my weekend left before school tomorrow morning, I decided that for the rest of the day I would try to distract myself, to not think about Sophia, or my parents, or even the Babadook. The day was long and painful. I cried almost all day. I tried to distract myself with my essay for anthropology, but no such luck. Everything I did reminded me of my parents. I couldn’t even use the microwave without it reminding me of movie nights with them, they always made popcorn. Every single inch of our house brought me to tears. There was nothing left I could do, but answer the Babadook’s every command.

I was able to spend the rest of my day as well as I could. Of course, I was still thinking about my parents, and about what I was being condemned to do to Sophia. I didn’t want to hurt her. We grew up together exactly one month apart to the day. We were neighbors our whole lives. Until last year when she moved to the Upper West side of the city; however, we still went to the same school, and we hung out together on the weekends. I thought about all the moments we had spent together in our lives. By tomorrow afternoon that might all be going to waste. My eyes welled up again. I thought about my life with Sophia, and how in just hours’ time she might not be a part of my life at all.

That evening I went back up into my bathroom to try and wipe the blood off of the walls, but to my frightened surprise, the message on the wall was gone. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and combed my hair. I put my pajamas on and attempted to sleep, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking about my parents, and what could be happening to them this very moment. I feared the worst. Then my phone went off. My heart skipped a beat as I looked down at the display. It was indeed the Babadook. He had written: ‘you have until sundown tomorrow to cut Sophia’s hair, or mommy dearest will lose a finger.” I cried. I knew that I had to cut her hair because I didn’t want my parents to suffer. By the time I fell asleep, it had been about twenty-four hours since I had last seen my parents.