I feel numb. Like, the type of numb where you can't even bring yourself to cry. The sort where nothing phases you. Behind me, through my bedroom door I hear the muffled sound of my parent's dispute.

A fog of static continues to grow in my brain as I hit Stevie's name on my contact list. The soft ’brrrrrr’ of the phone ringing overpowers Mom and Dad’s distorted disagreement downstairs as I wait for Stevie.

*brrrr…*

*brrr- pht....*

“Howdy Blake!” Stevie shouts, his cheery voice blasting from my phone speaker. I flinch from his excitement. I take a deep breath, still struggling to compose myself.

“Hey buddy.”

“You okay there pal?" Stevie asks concerned. Guess I sound dreary.

“Yeah I-... uh… just…” I choke up a bit, struggling to get my words out. “I need a place to stay tonight. I know it’s rude of me to ask, but would it be okay with you and your parents if I bunked there for a bit, just until this whole ordeal gets sorted out?”

I hear Stevie chuckle, as he asked, “Blake buddy, why would I need to ask my parents? I have my own place!”

“Huh?” I perk up, confused.

“Yessir! Moved out a while back.”

I sigh in relief. “I really appreciate it, Stevie. I’ll pack my stuff.”

“I’m on my way! Man, it’ll be like our weekend sleepovers from high school! I’m here to make your day better man!” his cheery southern voice echos as the call ends.

The small jolt of joy from the call gives me enough motivation to get up from my spot against my door. I stretch, trying to readjust my now strained back. Grabbing the suitcase I'd brought home from college; I dump all the clothes out onto the floor. I throw in a few old sweaters and jeans and wait for Stevie in my room.

I wait for what feels like forever, until Stevie texts me. Going downstairs, I see Dad in the living room. He gives me a pained look.

“I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how Mom is. Once she sets her mind to something, she sticks to it.”

My head falls in defeat, “Tell me about it.”

Dad scratches the side of his head, his eyebrows raising.

“Lemme guess, you staying at Stevie’s?”

I nod, “First place I could think of.”

My dad nods. “Well, you two stay out of trouble alright? We’ll give it a bit before I try to talk to your mom again. In the meantime, you should focus on whatever you need to do to get on your feet. Get you a job, do ‘something’, just don’t become a bum y’know?"

I don't respond. Dad smiles, "You know, I dropped out during my first college tenure."

"Yeah?"

Dad nods again. "Couldn't handle it either."

"How'd you manage to finish?"

"Actually, it was meeting your mom. She inspired me to go back."

"Huh..."

Dad gets up, patting me on the back, "Yeah. it's all about who you tackle it with Blake. I'll keep you posted, okay?"

“I know Dad.” I say blankly, before going to step out the door. I look back, "Love you."

"Love you too Blake."

I groan, walking out the door. The door shutting behind feels like a harsh slam. I look up seeing Stevie's truck. The static feeling has returned.

I drag my way to Stevie's pick-up and throw my stuff into the bed. As soon as I've hopped in, Stevie speeds off. I feel my gut sink as if I’m on a roller coaster.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Geez, you’ve upgraded your truck a lot, haven’t you?”

“Yep!” Stevie shouts excitedly as he shifts into the next gear before continuing.

“Put myself a new exhaust in it, as well as new headers! Gotta get as much juicy horsepower as I can, right?” He says proudly, taking a sip of soda.

I smile but can't think of anything to say. Stevie seems to get the memo, as he turns the radio up and continues to drive.

I prop my elbow against the door, laying my head against my fist as I pray this day gets better.

* * *

As we make our way through the thick forests of southern Pigeonburg, I see the tall forest trees becoming denser in population. I don’t think anything in Pigeonburg can rival the height of these trees as they loom over us, cutting off a lot of the gloomy sunlight. Stevie’s truck zooms through the small windy road, leaves blowing by like confetti. South Pigeonburg always consisted of a lot more forest area than the rest of the (now) ghost town up north, but thankfully this area looks more or less the same as it always has.

That’s the thing about this drive to Stevie’s place though. The roads we’re on are awfully familiar. It started with small things- the tunnel through the bottom of one of the many mountains, and the small lake right after. Plus, I always knew I was heading to Stevie's when I passed the now closed ‘Joe's Crab Hut’. The small seafood joint was the last remnant of civilization before you head deeper into the thick forest of the Smoky Mountains.

These small details reminded me of going to Stevie’s house when I was younger.

"Stevie, where exactly is this new house of yours?" I ask curiously.

Stevie takes another sip of his soda, before responding,

"You'll see. Don't wanna ruin the surprise now do I?" he asks with playful suspense.

Eventually, we go around a bend and turn into what I remember to be Stevie's gravel driveway.

His driveway is a sharp right turn off the winding road, and reveals a clearing, where across a large field, rests Stevie’s childhood home, a renovated two-story log cabin. I was always jealous of Stevie when I’d hang out at his place.

Next to the cabin, however, rests an unfamiliar structure. It’s hard to see from the bushes in the way, but as we turn more, I begin to grow confused.

It's a motor home… I think?

My eyes stay locked onto it as we crawl through the gravel driveway towards the side door. As Stevie parks, I hop out of the truck, my eyes glued to the thing.

It looks like a Frankenstein's monster of RV’s. The base of it is a large gray motor home, with a flat front. It’s massive, towering over us as I struggle to take it all in. The bottom part consists of multiple panels- probably areas under the floor for extra storage. There are off-white shutters strewn across parts of the side of the vehicle, especially on the back. In fact, the entire back third of the machine looks like the butt of an old Winnebago, even dawning a ladder, and an air conditioning unit on top. Finally, there’s the large red semi-circular thing hastily welded to the top, right over where the flat front rests.

It looks… weird.

Despite the odd look, the RV has a quaint feeling to it. It's nestled right up against a tree line across from Stevie's parents' house, leaving a lot of room where Stevie has set up some lawn chairs and an outdoor rug.

"Whatdoya think Blake?" Stevie asks excitedly.

"It's cool!" I say trying to sound encouraging, "But, why a motor home?"

"Well, Dad got sick of me takin' up too much space, and said I needed to either get rid of some stuff or move. As you can see, I chose the latter."

As we approach the front door, Stevie pulls out his keys and begins to unlock it as he continues.

"Chose me an RV in case I ever get a chance to road trip!"

"Gotcha, gotcha," I look back at Stevie, my eyes perking up, "Hey where are your parents anyways?"

The door clicks, and Stevie opens it.

"They're at Dad's shop. They’re meetin’ a possible buyer for the helicopter biz."

I shake my head, disheartened, "Ah crap, I'm sorry man."

The door clicks open, and Stevie looks back, "Ehh It happens. Dad's been waiting for a chance to retire from touring anyways."

As I go to enter Stevie's home, he stops me before I can step foot inside.

"Hold on their hotshot, lemme tidy up in here. Uno momento please!"

The small plastic door is shut, leaving me outside. I turn, looking around. The overcast sky looms over me and the buildings, leaving a dull filter over everything. Even Stevie’s parent’s log cabin looks grim. Under normal sunlight it’d probably look vibrant and full of color. The sound of the wind is overbearing. Paired with the blowing of leaves, the whistling becomes a constant noise. It’s eerie, and I feel uneasy just standing here.

There’s a harsh rustle of the leaves that snaps me out of my space-out. I dart my head over to the front of the motor home. My heartbeat freezes as another twig snaps from behind.

Gulping, I slowly begin creeping around the front of the massive vehicle. More of the tree line comes into view. It’s a mishmash of faded fall leaves, and dreary naked trees. Through the dancing tree branches, and down the hill, there’s a silhouette.

My eyes widen and my breath catches. The shadow’s shape is that of a Cloak, but atop its hat, there’s a faint orange glow. The Cloak’s head turns to me. Its face is covered with some mis-shapened mask. The gloomy sky prohibits me from seeing any clearer though. The confirmation that I’m being watched fills me with an unending dread. Panic sweeps across me.

How long have I been being watched by these assholes?!...

I hear the creak of the RV door, and upon snapping my head to it the door slams against the side of Stevie’s home. There he stands wearing plaid pajama pants, and a bright yellow shirt.

"Welcome to… Casa De eh… my trailer!"

I look back over at the spot where the shadow was.

Nothing.

I can’t help but exhale, though I’m not sure if it’s out of relief, or terror. There’s nothing I can do, except grab my luggage and make my way up the very steep steps, into Stevie’s trailer.

The thought of being watched soon creeps its way out of my head as I’m greeted with the inside of Stevie’s home.