The Chair in the Middle of the Room - Part II

The Chair in the Middle of the Room

Part II

Written by Cassia Sherrill

James leans against the door and breathes heavily. I cannot believe what I just agreed to.

His mom comes around the corner. “Honey, who was at the door?”

“Just some school friends, mom.” He starts making his way towards the stairs. He knew his mom would be able to sense from a mile away that he was hiding something so he wanted to get away before she noticed anything.

“What did they want? What’s in that bag?”

James paused at the foot of the stairs. “Uh, it’s just...a spy bag.”

“A spy bag?”

“Yeah, we started pretending we were spies so Will made us all spy bags. It’s got like random gadgets and stuff inside. Pretty neat. We are going to stake out a delivery truck that we saw hanging around Q’s house the other day.”

Laughing, his mom responded, “Sounds like fun! Just be careful and don’t actually go near the delivery truck, okay?”

“That’s what the binoculars in the spy bag are for,” he smiled as he made his way up to his room. He closed his bedroom door behind him and let out a huge sigh of relief. James, where the heck did you come up with that? Delivery truck, really?

James dumped the contents of the bag Will had given them on the floor. Funnily enough, it did have a pair of binoculars in it. Lucky guess. It also held a small map of their town, a tiny pocket knife, some string, magnifying glass, and a pen. Not much protection in this bag, guys.

Leaving the contents on the floor, he rolled his eyes and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a pencil and a notebook and laid both out on his desk. The blank page sat there as if it was staring into the deepest parts of his soul. He knew what he needed to write. These nightmares that took place in the abandoned house had been going on for months. Much longer than he had told anyone about. They haunted him, and he had never been able to shake them. Unfortunately, he could remember every terrible detail of each one of the nightmares, but the idea of writing down felt terrifying. It was a dark place, and he did not want to relive them. The blank page still sat there mocking him, but he couldn’t bring himself to write anything down. I don’t see how me writing them down helps the situation. Besides, I remember the details, and they have me? So it should be fine.

James sat in a staring match with the blank page for a few more moments until he finally relented. The blank page won. There was no way he would let himself write down those details in depth again. I can’t do it.

He set his pen down and got up to repack the bag. He glanced at his clock, and it was about 6:36pm. A few more hours to go before he had to meet them, but James wished it was years before he had to meet them. Going into that house was literally walking into his nightmare, and he was completely terrified of what they might find.

He grabbed a water bottle and a few snack bars from his school backpack and stuffed them into his newly dubbed “spy bag.” Anxious to keep his mind occupied, he started cleaning up his room, but his eyes kept wandering back to the blank page that was still sitting on his desk. Eventually, James had cleaned up his entire room, and he slowly gave in to the urge to go back to his desk once more.

I can’t write it all down. Then everyone will know, and I will be so ashamed. I just cannot risk that.

James went to close the notebook when the pages fell down he saw a picture he had drawn. He opened the book back up to view the drawing, and his heart skipped a bit when he saw the artwork.

It was a drawing, but he didn’t remember when or where he drew it. It was a pencil drawing of the chair. The chair in the middle of the room that was the centerpiece of all of his nightmares and fear. The drawing was an exact replica of the way it all looked in his nightmares, and in the bottom corner of the picture, it read: DO NOT SIT IN THE CHAIR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM. IF YOU DO, THEY WILL KNOW.

James could feel his heart thudding rapidly in his chest as he looked at the picture. With a sudden urge, he ripped the picture out of the notebook and crumpled it up into a ball. He stood up to throw it into the trash, but then he glanced at the crumpled warning in his hand once again. James heard his mom call through the house that dinner was ready so he shoved the warning into his spy bag instead as he bounded down the stairs for dinner.