J.E. Nickerson
“People think danger can be avoided if they are careful enough. But sometimes the person we think is safest is hiding the darkest secrets.”
The air in the kitchen didn’t move, it seemed to hover and settle over the dishes and objects around Henry.
Henry pulled the crayon from the stack and began dragging the tip of the crayon in quick, jagged strokes.
Stepping across the threshold, Connie shifted her weight as she set the bags of groceries on the counter. The paper rustled as she turned back to the door.
“Did you feel that?” she asked, pausing to wait for the AC to turn on.
Henry looked toward her. “Feel what, Mommy?” He asked. His voice was bubbly and carefree.
“That.” Connie paused for a moment and waited as if the faint prickle on her skin would explain itself if she stopped long enough. “That wind,” her brow furrowed. “Never mind, honey,” she said calmly.
Henry nodded. He continued to draw lines on the page, a small box with a sloped roof began to form.
That was when the chatter began. It wasn’t loud. It never was. He continued to draw circles around the box, listening as the voices increased. Slowly he looked up, watching Connie move through the room.
“You should call Megan,” he said.
Connie paused, looking at him. “What, honey? Why would you say that?”
Henry continued to draw. Silence stretched through the room as Connie turned back to the fridge, removing a juice box. She crossed the room and paused. The chill returned to her spine. She rolled her shoulders and looked around.
“Is there a window open?” Connie asked, her voice steady as she looked around.
Connie paused and looked back at Henry for a moment. He continued to move the crayon across the page.
“Megan’s with Daddy,” Henry said. His voice was light and unbothered, the way most five-year-olds’ voices were.
“What’s that?” Connie asked. She crossed the room and set the juice box on the table beside the pile of crayons, watching as Henry continued to draw in careful strokes.
“What’s that, honey?” she asked, watching her son draw two faces inside the small box.
Henry looked at her, a quiet calm filled his face.
“It’s Daddy and Megan,” he replied, reaching over. He took the juice box, sipping through the straw slowly.
The chatter continued, the voices continued to mix until one slowly detached from the rest.
Henry paused and put the juice box down. “Okay, I’ll tell her,” he said, his voice barely filling the space.
Connie ran her hand over his hair as she watched Henry reach for the red crayon.
“What are you doing, honey? Who are you talking to?” she asked. A growing sense of unease began to settle in the center of her chest, cold and persistent.
The silence in the room continued to press on Connie’s ears as if it was a physical sensation.
“Daddy and Megan are in danger,” Henry said.
The words cut through the silence, sending a jolt through Connie. Kyle had taken Megan to get ice cream at the store over an hour ago, and he hadn’t texted since leaving the store.
Connie’s hand began to tremble as she stared at Henry. “What did you say?” Her voice wavered, the energy draining from her legs. Her hand went to her pocket. The casing of her phone was cold against her palm as she lifted it to her ear.
Henry’s hand paused over the drawing and he stood, holding it out to Connie.
“They told me to tell you,” he said calmly. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he watched Connie.
Connie’s breath came in quick hitches as she stared at the photo. Two stick figures sat in the car. Red marks covered the crude drawing of a dashboard.
“Honey. What, what is this?” Connie asked, her voice shaking as she stared at the photo.
Her fingers twitched as her gaze returned to the phone. She forced herself to dial Kyle’s number, holding the phone to her ear as the dial tone sounded.
In the distance, the faint sound of sirens slowly drifted through the air.
Step into the world of Quiet Pressure Thrillers — where every choice has consequences, and no one walks away unchanged. For Mature Audiences Only. Enter the series at https://wearewisethinkers.com/welcome-to-the-world-of-quiet-pressure-thrillers/
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