62. Alone

The next day, Poe comes up to me. “Here’s that book I borrowed from you. Make sure you look at it before returning it to the library.”

I’ve never seen the book before, and I’ve never loaned a book to Poe.

In my English class, I open it and find a folded sheet of paper inside. It’s one of the emails from the stack I gave to her. Written at the top is a note: Did you read this?

I’M A PRISONER IN MY OWN HOUSE.

I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER I’M GOING TO BE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE.

I’M LIVING WITH A MONSTER. SOMEBODY, BUT NOT THE MAN I MARRIED. NOT A MAN.

HERE’S A PERSON WHO FEIGNS HAVING A CHILD IN ORDER TO TELL STORIES ABOUT HER IN HIS SERMONS. WHO WOULD DO THAT? PEOPLE BELIEVE IT, TOO. EVERYBODY AROUND HERE IS DRINKING THE KOOL-AID.

IF YOU GET THIS—IF YOU’RE STILL THERE—THEN YOU NEED TO COME GET ME.

WE’RE NO DIFFERENT FROM THE REST. THE TENTACLES OF TUNNELS REACH US.

FIND THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE HOUSE IN THE WOODS, MAYBE A HUNDRED YARDS AWAY. THERE IS A DOOR THAT LEADS DOWN INTO THE TUNNEL. FROM THERE YOU CAN GET IN.

IF YOU CAN GET IN, THEN MAYBE I CAN GET OUT.

I HOPE THERE’S TIME.

I HOPE HE DOESN’T FIND OUT.

PLEASE HELP.

I look up and stare at the teacher and see her looking at me, waiting.

“Chris, do you have any thoughts on this passage?”

“Yeah.”

“Then please share.”

“It’s dark. It’s brutal. It’s the point of no return.”

Mrs. Norton gives me a puzzled glance.

“What does it mean to you?”

“That we’re all alone,” I say. “That we’re all alone and that nobody’s ever going to get there in time to help. Nobody.”