I’ve had it since I was a baby. Left on the porch the day my mother brought me home from the hospital; box unmarked, but adorned with a shiny red bow. We were never quite certain where it came from. Jack.
“It sure is cute still,” my mother remarks. My 18th birthday was a few weeks ago, and we are cleaning out all my old things. I’m going away to college next month, and Mom is planning on turning our storage room into a crafting area.
“Actually, I’ve always found it unsettling,” I reply, my face wrinkling as she passes it towards me. “It has a certain…peculiarity.” I go to place it in the pile for the dump, but before I can drop it, my mother snatches it back.
“Absolutely not! I’ve always loved Jack. And you need a piece of home to take with you to your new dorm anyway. It’s not like you can cover up with your baby blankets!” She places her fingers on the handle and begins to turn it rhythmically. The haunting nursery rhyme sounds begin to fill the room, and it feels like the music is seeping into every single crevice. I know what’s coming, but I still can’t help but jump when the clown bursts free from the box that holds it captive.
My mom laughs. “Honey, you have GOT to relax! I know you are stressed with all the changes coming up. But it will be so great for you. Let’s go to lunch, and then come back to packing.”
She does have a point, moving away from the only home I’ve known makes me anxious. It’s only ever been me and my mom. We have always been close. I get up to go change into less grungy clothes for lunch. As I near the doorway, something gives me pause; I can’t quite explain it, but I feel the overwhelming urge to turn around. As I turn, I see the clown staring back at me with its permanently sewn grin. “Sorry bud, but I’m definitely not taking you with me.”
__________________________
I slowly open my eyes. The sunlight is a comforting warm glow on my face. I smell the distinct aroma of my favorite childhood breakfast: chocolate chip pancakes and bacon. Moving day is finally here. I don’t let myself feel the weight of it yet. Instead, I hop up and make my way downstairs.
“There she is! College girl! I thought you could use a little treat this morning.” She comes over and squeezes me tight, her cheek against mine. “I’m so proud of you, honey. Now let’s eat!”
After breakfast, I shower and get ready for the day ahead. I feel excited and nervous, but not sure which emotion is more prominent. I had already gathered my things at the bottom of the stairs the evening before. I can hear my mom loading everything into the back of her SUV, so I quickly brush my hair and go down to help.
“Mom, I got it, you’re going to throw your back out again.” I lovingly nudge her out of the way and begin placing my belongings inside the vehicle. After about twenty minutes of trying to arrange everything to fit, I’ve finally solved the puzzle.
“Alright Mom, we’re ready to go!,” I yell across the house. It already feels a little emptier. I lean against the wall, taking it all in for what will be the last time for awhile. I’m moving five hours away, and without a car, making it back home often won’t be easy.
“Honey, look! You almost forgot it!” She comes down the stairs, holding the jack-in-the-box in her hands. Great. I wanted to leave that dreadful thing behind. But if it means a lot to my mom, then whatever. I can toss it in a drawer or something. Certainly won’t make any friends by leaving it on display. “NOW we’re ready!” She grins and gives me a big hug. Time to hit the road.
____________________________
It’s November. A few weeks before my first college finals. I haven’t exactly adjusted amazingly to dorm life yet, but I can’t complain either. My roommate, Sarah, is friendly enough, but our relationship is mostly like an older sister constantly trying to give her dorky sibling a makeover (me being the dork, of course).
“You HAVE to come out tonight. You’ve been studying way too much. It’s only a couple drinks with the guys. I won’t take no for an answer. Honestly, you’ve got to get away from this dorm room. It’s stale.” Sarah stares at me, waiting for a yes. The look on her face tells me that I’m not getting out of this one. Begrudgingly, I agree.
About an hour passes (it takes her that long to get ready) before we head out. We are going to some local bar. It’s basically a frat boy hang out, but I’m content to have a beer and sit in the corner, pretending to have a good time before I make an excuse to head back to the dorm.
The place is packed. Full of students who don’t care about studying because they’re here on mommy and daddy’s coattails anyway. Well, unlike most of them, I actually need my good grades to keep my scholarship. Such a waste of time.
Sarah finds me at a small table and hands me a beer. “Drink, you’ll feel better in no time!” I can hardly hear her over the blaring music and the chaotic cloud of voices. I definitely need a beer to get through this night. I chug it quickly. “Damn kid, didn’t know you had it in ya,” Sarah remarks. I didn’t, either. I’m not usually a drinker. But it was actually pleasant, so I ordered another, along with some fries.
It doesn’t take long before I start feeling what I assume is an alcohol buzz. It’s foreign to me; I’ve never been drunk before. Is this really what it’s like? Am I drunk? I feel out of control, floating almost. My vision is blurred and I can only just make out Sarah now standing in front of me. “Where’d you come from?” My speech is slurred. Her lips move, but I don’t hear a thing. “Huh?” She takes my face in her hands and speaks loudly. I can hear her this time.
“LET’S GET YOU SOME FRESH AIR.” She escorts me outside the bar, into what looks like a spare parking lot in the back. It’s dimly lit and a little spooky, but thank goodness it’s quiet. “Be right back,” she says, and then she’s gone. It’s definitely more spooky now that I’m alone. I feel a hand on my back, and assuming Sarah has returned, I spin around.
It’s not Sarah.
Suddenly I’m surrounded by three guys. The smell of cheap after shave and alcohol mixed with nicotine is in the air. Wait. I recognize these faces. These are the guys Sarah and I met up with at the bar. “Listen, if you’re looking for Sarah, she already went back inside.”
“Sarah told us you’d be here.”
____________________________
That’s the last thing I remember from that night. Or rather, that my brain will let me remember. I woke up in my dorm room bed. Scratches on my face, hands, chest, and legs. My right eye has a giant bruise. My whole body hurts. I don’t want to think about what happened to me in that parking lot.
Where’s Sarah? Was she hurt too?
I painfully sit up in bed. My vision is slightly blurry, but I can make out Sarah in her own bed. I grab her shoulder and gently shake her. “Sarah? Are you okay? Please wake up.”
Sarah stirs back to life. She sees my face and immediately gasps. “Jesus kid. That may need stitches.”
That’s it? No shock? No shouts? It’s like she already knew what I was going to look like when she woke. And wait, she looks perfectly fine. What’s going on here? My mind starts spinning. Back to the parking lot. Back to Sarah leaving me. Back to the beer….the beer.
“You,” I hiss at her. “You did this to me. How could you?” Tears start to roll down, stinging every scratch as they drip off onto the floor. Her cheeks flush. I know she’s holding something back.
“I…I didn’t know. They told me they were just going to scare you. I never meant for you to get hurt.” But there’s hardly any emotion in her voice.
“Bullshit. You knew what you were putting into my drink and you knew you were leaving me alone in that parking lot. You’re a monster.” I storm out of the room. I have nowhere to go. I slouch down by a tree and cry. One of my study buddies finds me there. Seeing Jordan’s face brings me comfort. She lets me come back to her dorm room. I am too upset to tell her what has happened…what I remember and don’t remember. I fall into a deep slumber on her bed and don’t wake up until early the next morning.
Jordan is asleep on the floor. I slowly tiptoe out of her bed and grab a glass of water. I need to go home. I just want my mom. And usually Sarah doesn’t wake up until ten on Sundays. So I decide to go pack a bag and try to find a bus to get me as close to home as possible.
As I begin to turn the key for my room, something immediately feels wrong. I’m scared to open the door. But my need to get home is more powerful, so I do. And then I see it.
Jack.
Jack. In the middle of the floor. Still smiling his permanent grin. But how?
I can’t hear anything over the sound of my own heartbeat. My breathing is quick and shallow. My arms are covered in chillbumps. And then…oh god.
I have finally taken my eyes off Jack’s grin to see Sarah. She’s laying in her bed. Her throat has been sliced. She’s surrounded by a pool of blood that is still dripping down onto the cold tile floor. The sound of my heartbeat is now replaced by the sound of the drip. Drip. Drip.
The door was locked. The window is closed. Who could have done this? There’s been no one in here but Sarah….
And Jack.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He’s always been unsettling. But there’s no way. It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes sense. My breathing is even more shallow. My vision begins to fade. I think I’m passing out. I think….I….
______________________
I’m awake on the floor. There’s barely any sunlight coming through the window. The whole day has passed. Suddenly everything comes flooding back to me.
Sarah.
Jack.
Where are they? I don’t see Sarah on the bed. But I don’t see Jack either. No more dripping. Just silence. Even the blood stains are gone. It’s like she was never there. But I know what I saw. The thought of it makes me vomit onto the floor. I’m shaking. The sound of my heartbeat fills my head again.
I hear something else now. Something…something like music. I crawl towards the sound. I’ve heard this before. My brain is having trouble putting it together. I crawl even closer. It sounds so familiar….then I place it.
Jack.
The tune is now more haunting than I ever could have imagined. Do I dare inch any closer to it? But I have to. I have to know. It’s coming from inside the storage bin where I put it so many months ago. I slowly open the drawer to see it. That grin. That red nose.
Jack.
I grab it and rip open the door to the dorm hallway. I run as fast as my legs will take me and dump it into the nearest trash bin I can find. I still hear the music playing as I walk away. I hear it all. Sarah’s voice. My breathing. And the drip.
Drip.
Drip.
_______________________
It’s December 23rd. I’m sitting next to my mom on the couch underneath the quilt my late grandmother made before I was born. Christmas tunes hum low in the background of my mom’s snoring. The embers in the fireplace glow red hot beneath a log that has burnt itself in half. Bernice, our cat, sleeps quietly in the spot she claimed as a kitten.
Home.
I wasn’t sure if I’d make it back here after everything that happened. But now it’s a few days off from Christmas and life feels…almost normal again. At least, I have tried to make it feel normal. It’s not easy. Those thoughts cut through the silence sometimes when you least expect it. And suddenly, my brain whispers a single name: Sarah.
They never found Sarah. As her roommate, naturally I was questioned. I said I had not seen her since that night at the bar. I’m not sure how I would have even come up with an explanation for the events that occurred. I’m not even sure I know what happened. Sometimes I try to convince myself that I imagined it all.
All I know for certain is that Jack is gone. Cast off to some far away landfill. Hopefully smashed into a million pieces and then burned for good measure.
It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that I’m home. I let my thoughts get taken over by the sounds of the fireplace crackling, Christmas carols, and….what is that? It’s quiet. But it’s there. I sit up on the couch and tilt my head back towards the stairs. I turn the radio off so I can hear more clearly.
It can’t be. I listen even more closely. But there’s no denying it this time.
Jack.
The music stops just short of the moment where Jack comes flying freely out of his metal cage. The house goes completely silent. I walk towards the stairs. Suddenly I am frozen in place, terrified to shift my gaze upward. Do it, just do it, I tell myself. It’s a stupid clown in a stupid box that might not even be there. You’re probably just dreaming. Finally I look up towards the landing.
Jack.
The same grin as always stares back at me. I feel dizzy and nauseous and my head is pounding. I think I might–
___________________________
I hear birds chirping. I open my eyes. What time is it? I was just on the couch with my mom. She must have helped me to bed last night. I remember having a terrible dream that the clown was back. What a nightmare. I really should see about getting in with a therapist one of these days.
I make my way towards the stairs. I wonder if Mom is up yet? It’s Christmas Eve, and our tradition is to always open up one gift each today. I’m really excited to see her reaction to everything I picked out for her. I head down and walk into the kitchen. “SHIT!” I startled myself. I keep forgetting Mom’s kitchen redecoration included a very ill-placed mirror. I shake it off and have a laugh at myself. Then I see there’s a note on the kitchen counter.
“Honey, I had to run out early for some errands. Go check the living room table - there’s a surprise waiting for you, Love, Mom.”
My Christmas Eve gift! I want to wait for her, but she clearly wants me to have it early, and, well, I can hardly stand the anticipation.
As soon as I enter the living room, I see a box on the table. It’s wrapped in snowflake paper and topped with a beautiful silver bow. I wonder what it could be? I secretly hope there are meticulously hidden holes to allow air for a new kitten! Doubtful. Time to just open it up and see.
I untie the bow and gently lift the lid off the box. I think I see what looks like fur. Could it be my kitten after all? I have to find out. So I fully remove the box lid, hands a little bit shaky with excitement, and I see….
I scream as I fall to the floor. My heart feels like it has dropped all the way to my feet. I can’t breathe or think or function at all. It wasn’t fur. It was hair.
My mom’s severed head lay inside the box. Cold, lifeless marbles sit where her eyes once were. Her ruby red lipstick is still perfectly in place. My lifeline. My best friend. My home.
I feel like I’m going to spiral into nothingness. I have to call for help this time. Who cares about the explanation? My mother is gone. And someone…or thing… needs to pay. My whole life has been ripped away from me in an instant.
I manage to pick myself up off the floor and stumble back across the house into the kitchen to find my phone. But instead, I see another pair of lifeless eyes looking back into mine. And in that instant, I know there is no escape from this. He was there in the beginning, and he will be with me until the end.
Jack.