Sleep Over

He first appeared at our school about three months ago. Theodore, they called him, Theodore Johnson.
He puffed his chest out proudly when the teacher called his name:
"Here miss!" He cried, smiling broadly.

I don't know why, but I didn't like him from the start.

Theodore is a major suck-up: always doing little tasks for the teachers, and never missing the opportunity to rat on his classmates for every minor school code infraction.
He's fat, pimply and obnoxious – with an annoying laugh and a huge chip on his shoulder. Apparently his parents are parents are filthy rich, but I don't see why that gives him the right to be so arrogant and condescending.

The teachers seem to love him, but he certainly isn't popular amongst the students.

I'd never really spoken to him, and then one day he starting sitting with my friends and I, and buying us all ice cream.

Now…

I don't know. I guess he's alright.

So here I am – riding in his parents car to spend the weekend at their mansion, hanging out and playing video games. I guess that's pretty cool, right?

"We've got an X-box 360, a Playstation 3 and a Nintendo Wii… more games than you've ever seen,"
Theodore enthuses, his round face almost exploding with glee,
"a swimming pool, pinball machines… trust me, you're going to love it there!"

"Sounds great," I reply.

I wonder why he didn't invite any of the others?

I find myself drawn to look at his younger brother, sitting across from me in the back seat of the car. It's not what he's doing that catches my eye so much as it is what he's not doing.

He hasn't spoken a word for as long as I've seen him. More than that, he seems to be actively avoiding everyone's gaze. Mine, his mothers, his brothers… everybody. All he's doing is sitting there, in perfect silence, staring out the window…

Small and thin with sad brown eyes: he's pretty much the polar opposite of his loud-mouthed brother.

I don't know his name…

The car slows down and turns into a driveway.

"We're here!" Shouts Theodore, rather redundantly.

The car stops.

Theodore's brother opens the door next to him and slinks away – disappearing into the house. Theodore bounds out of car, slamming the door behind him.

"Come on then!" He yells, gesturing me inside.

"Just a second!" I reply – I'm tying up my shoelaces.

Theodore makes a noise of frustration, then kicks a handful of gravel onto the car.

"Theodore!" His mother scolds.

"Sorry mum!"

"It's alright dear. Just be careful."

I finish tying up my shoes and get out of the car.

"Come on!" Says Theodore, running up to the house.

I follow. I hear the sound of his mother closing the car door behind me.

"Sorry about that!" I shout.

"It's alright. No problem at all." Theodore's mother laughs. "You're quite well-mannered, aren't you?"

We reach the house. Theodore leads me down the hallway to his bedroom.
"This is going to be awesome." He says.

I hear his mother locking the front door behind us.

"Hey, have you got the new call of duty?" I reply.

"Sure do!"

"Ha, I'm going to murder you." I say, grinning.

The colour drains from Theodore's face.

"Uh, cool man." He stammers, then laughs weakly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his brother is staring at us. Theodore follows my gaze.

He barks, then raises his fist.

His brother's eyes go wide and he retreats into his bedroom; slamming the door behind him.

"Weird kid." I say.

"Annoying's the word," Theodore grumbles, leading me into his room.

"Wow..." I murmur.

I've never seen a room like this before.

He's got several games consoles, a computer, an expensive looking television, a cupboard literally overflowing with toys….

"Come on – let's play." Theodore says nonchalantly.

I stand at the door in awe for another moment or two, then sit down to join Theodore on the X-box.

We play the game for a couple of hours. It's neck and neck for a while, but eventually Theodore comes out on top.

"Another round?" He asks with a smile,

"Nah, I'm a bit sick of this one."

"Cool." He nods, then reaches for another game.

"Hey, have you tried this one yet?"

"Theo," I ask.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you invite any of the others?"

There's a short silence.

"I did, man. They just had other stuff planned."

"Weird. They didn't tell me about it."

Is he lying to me?

"Well I guess I'm the better friend, then, aren't I?" He laughs.

"I guess so…"

Theodore reaches for the x-box, takes out Call of Duty and puts another game in.

"It's cool though." He continues,

"Getting to know you. We hang out all the time and I feel like we never we really get a chance to talk."

That was true enough. My first impressions of Theodore were not good at all, so I'd made little effort to engage him in conversation. Really, the only reason I came today was because I felt a need to pay him back for all that ice cream.

He's not too bad, though. I'm having fun.

"That's true." I say.

The new game is loading.

"Hey, Theo, would you mind telling me where I could find a bathroom?"

"The guest bathroom is at the end of the hall – you can't miss it."

"Thanks."

"No worries. Hey, are you hungry? I could get mum to make us up some nachos."

"Ah, no, I'm alright."

"Really?"

"Really. Thanks, though."

"Well, I might get her to make me some anyway. See you soon."

I leave the room and head down the hall.

Actually, I'm having a lot more fun here than I thought I would.

Theodore's not as annoying at home as he is at school, and this house –

I turn an antique doorknob on an elegant white door –

It really is rather amazing.

Having concluded my business in the bathroom, I wash my hands and head back down the hallway.

Theodore's brother is watching me again – peering out meekly from a crack in a door.

"Hey there," I say, giving a smile and a friendly wave.

He shoots me a fearful look, then slams the door shut. I hear the sound of it locking.

I approach him.

"Don't worry," I say,

"I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?"

I knock three times on the door.

No answer.

"Hey, are you okay in there?"

I knock twice more.

No answer.

"Anyway, my name is Michael. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. I just wanted to say hello."

Still no answer.

"Well, alright then."

I return to Theodore's bedroom.

"Hey Mikey! What took you so long?"

"I met your brother in the hall."

Theodore narrows his eyes.
"Did he say anything to you?" He asks.

I shake my head.
"No. Nothing at all."

Theodore laughs.
"I'm not surprised."

There's a knock at the door.

"Theodore?"

Knock, knock, knock.

"Theo dear? I've brought some nachos!"

Theodore pauses the game and opens the door. His mother bursts in with a huge plate of nachos and several varieties of drink.

"Now, I wasn't sure what your little friend here liked so I got him a bit of everything…" She starts.

I offer to help her carry the food but she waves me away.

"No need for that." She chirps with a smile,

"You're a guest in this household."

"Now boys," She says, laying everything out in front of us.

"Dig in! But try not to eat too much… Your father will be home soon and then it will be time for dinner."

"Thank you," I say,
"You're very generous."

Her smile falters, but only for a moment.

"No need to thank me. You're a friend of the family!"
She kisses Theodore on the head, then leaves.

"Your mother's so nice…"

"Yeah, when she wants to be." Theodore laughs.

We spend a couple more hours playing Theodore's games. We talk a lot: we find we've got a great deal in common. In just one night, Theodore and I go from being casual acquaintances to very close friends. I'm rather happy that I came here.

Then I hear shouting coming from the kitchen.

I decide to investigate.

"Hey man, I've just got to go and use the bathroom."

"What, again?"

I shrug.

He laughs.

"Don't worry about it. See you in a bit."

I leave the room and sneak up the hall.

"This is the last time!" A male voice shouts.

Theodore's father?

"I'm not putting up with this anymore."

His mother laughs.

"Oh, you can't tell me it bothers you." She mockingly returns,
"It's not like we haven't done this before."

"This wasn't my idea. You know I hate having these kids around here!"

"I know you claim to, but your claims are often quite far from the truth!"

"You make me sick."

"It's not like you haven't gotten anything out of it. Face it – you need this just as much as I do."

One of them slaps the other.

The mother laughs.

I reach the end of the hallway, and hide by an archway that leads to the kitchen.

I trip as I'm trying to peek around the corner.

Both the mother and the man turn to face me.

The mother is holding a wound on her face and the man appears to be seething with rage. Both of them appear startled by my presence.

"Sorry… I was just looking for the bathroom." I mutter.

The man storms off.

"Oh! Sorry dear, it's just at the end of the hall." Theodore's mother says with a smile.

I don't move. I just stand there staring at my feet.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to hear all that."

"It's okay…" I mumble.

"Aw…" She hugs me.
"Don't worry about it. "

"What was that all about?" I ask
"If… if that's okay to ask, I mean…"

"No…. No, It's fine."

Theodore's mother pauses for a moment, thinking.

"Sometimes when Theodore's daddy gets home from work he's not very happy and he needs to blow off some steam."

"He doesn't like other kids in the house?"

"Theodore's friends are just an easy target. He doesn't really mind."

"Oh… okay…."

There's an awkward silence.

"Should I go?" I ask.

"What?"

"Should I leave early tonight."

"No… No. Of course not! Daddy just needs some time to cool down."
"You're a good kid, you know that?"

"Thanks…."

She releases me.

"Remember – the bathroom is right at the end of the hall."

"Okay, thank you."

"Have fun!' She waves.

I head back towards the bathroom, feeling her watching me every step of the way. I'm jittery and uncomfortable: I hate it when people fight.

I hope they're not mad at me. I really like it here.

All of my fears evaporate with dinner. Everyone is there – even Theodore's father. Laughing, talking, having fun…

It's a really nice way to end a generally fantastic evening.

"I'm really happy here." I murmur, drifting off to sleep less than an hour later.

Everyone is so nice…

I wake up tied to a dirty mattress, with a gag in my mouth, bright lights all around me and a camera in my face.

Theodore is sitting on top me, grinning menacingly.

What is going on?

My mind seems sluggish – my body far away.

There's something in Theodore's hand – he's holding it up to the light.

It glimmers.

Is that…

Is that a knife?

Why does Theodore have a knife?

Following some unseen signal, Theodore brings the knife down in slow motion – making a long, deep cut across my stomach.

The pain takes a moment or two to settle in, but when it does, it's overwhelming.

I let out a muffled scream.

"Shut up." Theodore commands, and brings the knife down again.
It's much faster this time.

He makes another cut… and another.

My screams give way to sobbing.

"Stop crying!"

He removes my gag and pulls me up by the hair.

"Why?" I whisper.

He punches me in the face.

He lets go of my hair and I fall back into the mattress.

I'm barely conscious now. Everything hurts.

Through the mess of blood and sweat that has filled my eyes, I see Theodore reaching out his hand.

He appears to get frustrated.

"….No! …Stupid… The gun! …Get me the gun!" He shouts.

I can barely make out what he's saying.

His voice seems so far away.

Finally, I close my eyes.

I hear a gunshot.

Then another.

I black out.


A moment later, Theodore's brother is pulling me to my feet.
"We have to get out of here." He says.

I don't reply. I can't.

He pulls me up some stairs and down a hallway.

"Is it done yet?" That's the father… he's somewhere behind us.

"Hey…"

The sound of footsteps.

I'm pushed outside through an open window.

"Oh my god!"

"Shit! What happened?"

I struggle to my feet.

"Run!" Theodore's brother cries.

"Come with me!" I say.

"I can't!"

"Timothy? Timothy, where are you?"

Theodore's brother waves, puts the gun to his head.

I run.

I hear another gunshot.

I keep running.

I collapse in somebody's garden.

It's over.

I'm free.