Chapter 18- Disorientation

I was released from the hospital with a prescription for pain medication, a contingent of extra bandages, and a prescription for some 800mg ibuprofen in a white bag with the hospital's logo. I laughed as I looked at it. Everyone's marketing themselves I guess.

I walked outside and noticed a steady rain coloring the entire world a dull grey. I held my little white plastic bag above my head, though it didn't do much. Limping to the edge of the sidewalk, my mother fussed at me, telling me I needed to wait under the awning while she went to get the car. "Don't catch a cold on top of everything else that's happened." She said. "And you don't walk on that leg more than you have to. Wait here."

I leaned against a pole, listening to the pittapat of rain drops. Looking down at the lump of bandages under my jeans, I realized I hadn't even seen the wound or knew what had cut me. I could feel the tinge of pain as my meds started to wear off and I rubbed the spot, wishing it away. Mom pulled up in her Cadillac and I climbed into the front seat. I looked out the passenger side window, silently watching the dripping streams course across the glass. A few people were out, walking with umbrellas or wearing ponchos. They moved slowly, methodically.

I glanced down at my phone, it's screen was blank. I wanted to call Tracy to make sure she was okay and ask her what happened afterwards, but my battery was dead. I spun it in my hands mindlessly and looked over at my mother. She was sitting on a large foam cushion, overtop of which was a beaded seat cover. Even with her seat fully erect she could barely see over the steering wheel, a problem that didn't seem to improve even though she wore her special "Driving glasses", a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles with sparkly plastic diamonds in the side that matched the cubic zirconium necklace she used to keep them around her neck when not in use.

We arrived at my home and leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride mom." She attempted to make an argument to come "help me inside" but I refused, saying I didn't need the help, that I felt great. In reality I didn't want her to see the supplies I had piled all over the house.

"Punching my code into the keypad located above the front door handle, I heard my security alarm disarm itself as I stepped inside the dark house. Something immediately felt wrong."

Punching my code into the keypad located above the front door handle, I heard my security alarm disarm itself as I stepped inside the dark house. Something immediately felt wrong. There was a smell that I didn't recognize, like someone had cleaned using a chemical I was unfamiliar with. I had installed a home security and automation system a year ago, but never started using it until Lucas died that day. The blinds were shut and all the doors closed, so I could see very little. Knowing I'd trip over a case of olives or bang my injury on a yea/ supply of Nutella, I slid my hands along the wall, searching for the switch. I flipped on the light and gasped as I saw my living room, cleaner than I'd ever seen it. Fresh flowers graced the table, and there was no sign of any of the supplies we had been gathering over the past few weeks. Could Tracy have... The thought made me smile, but also confused me. I hadn't given her my security code, in fact no one knew that code but me. I limped into the bedroom and found my bed made meticulously, my closet perfectly organized. I plugged my phone into the charger next to the bedside table and went to my computer.

Logging into my alarm system online, I looked at my system history. I saw when I had armed my system that day before going to work, but didn't see any record of the alarm going off or anyone disarming the panel until just a few moments ago. I looked in my camera history, but no videos had been recorded during my absence. How had someone accomplished this? I went to my security panel and hit "Status" The panel chirped back in a happy female voice with a soft British accent: "System Tampered" Odd, my account didn't show any record of tampering, but if the panel recorded the tampering, maybe the local history did too. I tapped the setting icon and pulled up the history. Sure enough, the tamper occurred the same afternoon I was attacked, almost an hour after I would have lost consciousness. An image had been saved as well. I tapped the little camera icon and saw a picture of garbled static. Questions began racing through my mind "Why had a leg injury put me in a 2 day coma? Where was Tracy during all this? How could someone have emptied my place without setting off the alarm and who could have hacked my security account to erase the event? My spinning head was interrupted by the ding of a voicemail. I limped back into my bedroom and picked up my phone. Listening to the message, my eyes widened. "Hi, this is Marcie in HR. We haven't seen you in a few days, hope you're not sick or anything. If you'd like to submit some of your allotted sick time please give me a call or send me an email." I looked at the time stamp. This morning at 10:00am. How did they not know? Hadn't Tracy said anything to them? I remembered back to the accident in the intersection, where Tracy had first seen Mr. Munn. Didn't the person who was attacked by the crazed truck driver get carried away as well? What of they grabbed Tracy? A wave of panic and helplessness flowed through my veins. I pulled up my contact in the phone, scrolling to the "T" section. Tracy... Tracy... Nothing. Her number was gone. I searched my text message history. Also gone. Glanced through my inbox I looked for e-mails from her. Nothing... It was like she had been erased from my life completely.