Frostbitten Past

I I I

 SHE WAS worn out by the time she returned home. Her mother and father were still at work, so Andorra hunkered down in the living room. The new house had rows and rows of built-in book shelves, to Andorra's delight. She had spent most of their first weekend there unboxing her books. They were her most prized possessions.

As a child, her parents often brought home books from the local thrift store. Ones with pretty covers and handwritten notes in the margins. Some were old and faded. Others had been kept in decent condition. Most she had read.

This afternoon, however, Andorra wanted to look more closely at the book someone had left in her locker.

As she settled down into her couch, she settled back into the cushions and cracked open the book, her fingers digging into the hardcover. She sat still like that for what felt like moments, not hours, but she grew aware of the darkness crowding into the room from the lack of sunlight in the sky.

Shadows creeped in the corners of the room, and the darkness seemed to come alive as it crawled across the walls and the floorboards. It became dense, heavy, and Andorra felt chills run up her spine. Not for the first time, she wished they had not moved to Maine. It was always dark, always eerie, always cold.

Shivers ran up her spine and she looked for a blanket, or perhaps the light.

When light spilled across the room, the shadows seemed to slink away, right off of the walls. Melting out the dark windows, joining the night that surrounded her. It was an eerie effect, one that Andorra would have been fine without.

As she cuddled in a blanket, the book in her hands feeling heavy, she suddenly didn't want to read, or even be in the room anymore. She could feel the itch of being watched from outside the windows, and while she was certain it was paranoia, Andorra couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there. Someone slinking in the shadows, eyes trained on her.

As she moved from the sitting room, Andorra nearly steamrolled over her mother, who must have just returned home from work as she tiredly set down a briefcase.

"Hello to you too, honey." Her mother's voice was sweet and soft, clearly not worn out from her day in the office. "Are you hungry?"

As if on cue, Andorra's stomach made a growling sound. Instead of her mother taking off her shoes, she moved to the door. "Hurry, if we're quick, maybe we can make it to the steakhouse in time for an open table."

Andorra was shocked, as her parents rarely ever ate out. She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her slight shoulders, already shivering in anticipation of the frigid weather outside of her house.

As her mother started their car, Andorra blew hot breath onto her hands, frustrated with the lack of warmth her body was providing. Angrily she rubbed her hands together, wishing she had grabbed her gloves.

"Andorra, relax. I swear, you're allergic to this weather!" her mother grumbled, fiddling with the radio until a smooth jazz tune blared through the speakers. Her mother's go-to, though Andorra wasn't sure she agreed with her mother's choice of music.

Andorra saved her glare for her feeble fingers.

Without warning, Andorra was shoved hard against the door of the car as her mother screamed, slamming on the brakes and swerving on the icy road. The night made it impossible to see anything that was not in the path of the headlights, and the car seemed to slide down the road for several yards before coming to an abrupt stop.

Andorra and her mother were both breathing heavy as they sat there, not moving. Jazz music continued to flow through the car, but it didn't mask their pants of fear and adrenaline. Andorra's heart was thudding painfully in her chest, and she couldn't seem to even catch her breath. It had all happened so quickly, and Andorra had already been on edge.

Andorra spoke first. "Mom, what was that?"

That was referring to the car sliding on the road, not what had made her mother react in the first place. Andorra had not even seen whatever her mother had.

She didn't need to. There, standing in the headlights was a creature with twisted limbs and the shining eyes of an animal. It blinked at them, both Andorra and her mother frozen in fear. The creature stood on two legs like a person, but looked nothing like the people who lived there.

The creature threw its head back and let out a screech meant for horror films. In that instant, Andorra's mother threw the car in drive and nearly hit the creature as she drove past, hitting over the speed limit.

Neither said a thing as they sped off into the night, hearts pounding and jazz music flooding the quiet of the ride. Trying to convince herself it was just an animal, Andorra refused to look out of the car window. Her mother did not have that luxury as she stared hard at the road in front of her.

It wasn't until they reached the restaurant that Andorra spoke, tentatively and anxious. "Mom, what was that?"

Her mother was shaking just as much as she. "I don't know. I don't know."

Both sat in the car for a moment, dazed and terrified of whatever they saw on the road. But Andorra didn't have a chance to collect her thoughts as a knock on the window had her screaming again, heart in her throat. She clawed for the lock button, only to realize it was her father at the window, smiling at them.

Andorra's mother rushed from the car, quicker than Andorra could even think about unlocking the door. And when she did, her mother wasn't even discussing the creature or what had happened. She was rushing her husband into the restaurant, practically dragging him by his crisp, oxford shirt sleeve.

Andorra numbly followed, blinking away the sight of the creature in the headlights. It had been there, as real as she was herself. It hadn't looked like an animal. It had looked demonic.

Dinner was not as stressful. After the anxiety and the shakes wore off, dinner was actually quite nice. Andorra enjoyed the heat of the restaurant and her mind was teetering between telling her parents about the power outage at school, or maybe about making a potential new friend at school. She was fine though listening as her parents had their own conversations about work, about the new house, about anything and everything.

Her chest heaved as she tried to forget about the creature. Her father was completely oblivious, but her mother was not. There was an edge to her smile that seemed to cause alarm to Andorra, but she was sure her own expression matched.

Little to her knowledge, the creature in the road had not disappeared into the night. It was slinking around, waiting to catch another sight of the girl with the golden hair. It was shrouded in the dark, nearly invisible to those who would look, but it was smiling. All teeth, sharp as razors, and black holes where the eyes should have been. It was ready - they all were.