It Comes From Within

*unedited

The evening was coming to an end as the busy town of Woodbury prepared for bed. Owners had locked their doors and closed down their shops, leaving no lights on with the exception of an LED sign. On Chasity Lane was a mall strip and walking along the sides were people who had overstayed their welcome after closing and were headed to their cars. After a while, the parking lot which was semi-packed with cars, had decreased to only three vehicles: a blue Beetle, a Wrangler, and a motorcycle. At the corner of the strip was a bar named Mel's and standing in front was a trio of lively women in their late twenties, throwing their heads back in laughter.

Since it was October, autumn had slowly but surely brought its winds with the arrival of the season. It was a good thing that the alcohol that Michelle, Amy, and Renee had flushed down their throats had warmed their bodies. They had only drank enough to satisfy their tastebuds but had not overindulged because they planned on making it home safely that night.

Michelle, a few feet shorter than her younger sister, Amy, stopped laughing to close her sister's jacket.

"For God's sake, would zip up your jacket? You're twenty-eight and unemployed, you can't afford a hospital bed." Michelle scolded like her late mother had done many times to a young Amy as disapproval possessed her contorted face.

Amy rolled her eyes and followed her sister's demands, pulling her zipper up to the center of her collarbone. Meanwhile, Renee pulled down the sleeves of her hoodie that could fit a family of six over her hands as she embraced herself. The weatherman had reported the temperature would drop at nightfall but Renee had not bothered to check her phone or watch the news as she dressed accordingly to whatever the temperature felt like outside.

Earlier that Thursday evening was chilly but not enough to bring out a North Face parka hence Renee's lack of pants and sufficiency of a maxi chiffon dress that permitted any weather to nonconsensually penetrate through her bloodstream.

"So, ladies, when are we going to do this again? Let's say, next week, the same day?" a freckled face Amy proposed, raising her eyebrows at her sister and her former college roommate and best friend.

"That's cool with me. Renee, what about you?" Michelle inquired before rummaging through her bag.

"Sorry, guys, but partying doesn't pay the bills," a red-nosed Renee replied with a hint of remorse in her tone.

"Ugh! You're no fun," Amy scoffed.

"Yeah, the Renee we know would never turn down cheap drinks and free appetizers at happy hour," Michelle laughed, pulling out a yellow knitted scarf to wrap around her neck, complementing her denim jacket.

"Uh, in case you guys forgot, the old Renee would also flash guys for their parking spot. Listen, ladies, I'm sorry, but this Renee's all grown up. Need I remind you I'm still paying back my loans from 2012 and newsflash, inflation is going through the roof right now."

"Tell me about it," Michelle concurred. "My rent just went up to nearly 2,000 dollars, and I live in a one-bedroom apartment. On top of that, I don't even make enough to pay that; I'm a paycheck-to-paycheck girl."

"Aren't we all?" Renee joked, chuckling.

Amy groaned, putting her hands in the pocket of her sweatpants. "God, do you two have to be party poopers?"

"We're not party poopers. We're just being realists," Michelle bluntly responded.

"Well, you realists suck. I'm out of here." The moment Amy lifted her feet to approach the curb, her sister grasped her wrist as a parent would do to a child about to cross the street with oncoming traffic.

Amy stopped in her tracks and looked back at her sister in confusion.

In the past, Michelle had first-hand experience in stepping up as a matriarchal figure for her younger sister. From the time she was sixteen, and her mother passed of stage four dementia, Michelle took on a role that required emotional availability and sometimes physical care since their dad kept himself busy with construction work.

"Not until you promise me you're going to call me as soon as you get home." She demanded.

"Would you unhandle me? I'm not a child." Amy exclaimed in exasperation.

"So, help me God, if you don't call me, I'm going to put out an Amber Alert on you," Michelle threatened.

"I'm pushing thirty."

"Your license may say that, but I won't." Michelle did not hold back and neither did her stern expression. After a moment of silence, Amy gave in, sighing heavily. "So, cross your heart?"

Amy gulped, "Hope to die."

"Okay, bye!" Michelle released her grip as a hurried Amy sprinted to her motorcycle. "Love you!"

"You guys are something else," Renee said, as both she and Michelle watched Amy start up her engine and speed out of the lot like a bat out of hell.

"What can I say, she's my twin. I have to make sure she gets home safe, if I don't, I'm going to hear an ear full from my father for the rest of my life."

"Right." Renee stared off into the dark blue sky before Michelle snapped her out of her gaze.

"Hey!" she raised her voice. "The same applies to you too. Don't think just because we're not related, I won't do the same to you. You better call me."

"Okay, Mom," was the last thing Renee had said to Michelle before they walked each other to their vehicles.

When Michelle drove off in her Wrangler, Renee had just hopped in her car when she noticed something peculiar at the corner of her eye. It was a little girl in a Barney shirt, corduroy pants, and red rain boots. She was standing under a lamp post all alone like an extraterrestrial that had been mistakenly dumped onto earth and had no way of getting home. Standoffish was the word. Of course, any child that young would be, especially, this late at night. She could've been scared out of her mind.

Her hair was brown just like Renee's but it was curly and she had a band-aid under her left eye. The moment she had laid eyes on this little girl, Renee understood that it was her job to make sure that nothing happened to her on her watch. She exited her Beetle and ran to the small girl who stood awkwardly like a zombie, blinking at slow intervals.

"Hey, what are you doing out here so late? Isn't it past your bedtime?" Renee inquired in a gentle tone as she kneeled to the girl's level.

She didn't say anything, but Renee was determined to get her to communicate with her one way or another.

"Do your parents know you're out here alone? I can call them, I'm sure they're worried sick about you," she offered.

Silence.

"You don't talk much, huh." Once again, silence had answered for the little girl. "Can you at least tell me your name?" Renee pried, but the girl shook her head. "Why not?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

Renee exhaled sharply, "Well, this isn't going anywhere. The only place I can think of taking you is the police station, though I'm almost positive that no one is there since everything that isn't a bar closes early. Although, I'm sure, at least one person may be there."

The moment Renee stood up, an uneasy growling sound came from the little's girl stomach. "Maybe, we should get something to eat first. Don't you think?" The girl nodded her head. "I don't know if there are any fast food places open, but I think I may know a place that might make an exception."

*****

The Golden Royale was a burger joint that opened in 1950 and most junior high kids in Woodbury ate there and hung out there after school. They never ordered anything, except for one-dollar milkshakes and headaches for the servers. Whenever a fourteen-year-old loner Renee went, she ate by herself on the last stool at the end, in front of the window where anyone walking past could tune into what customer was eating what that day.

The exterior had a yellow and white awning and on the ground was a sign stand that promoted a lunch special available throughout the fall. Inside, the colors were warm and so was the temperature. Since the shop was narrow, a strip of red booths ran along the wall and the counter to the grill and cash register followed side by side. Meanwhile, a cook in a hairnet and white clothing wiped down the grill with a brush, and with every swipe, there was a sizzle.

Above the grill were yellow tiles where a calendar hung and to the left were framed photos of the exterior of the restaurant throughout the years, capturing the changes and renovations. In the center was a photo of a man in a white beard and round spectacles and underneath was written: In memory of Shake Royale, 1929-2002.

Renee had gotten lucky that evening because every other fast food shop was closed. Ryan, the late owner's nephew who had seen Renee eat countless times by herself, had offered to cook something for his old pal tonight as he had done many times out of pity for the former pre-teen. Only this time, he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart. As she and the little girl waited to be served, Renee continued her investigation, but the girl still would not utter a word. There was no eye contact between the two because the girl had her head down. The only thing that brought her head up was a bell ringing, followed by "Order up!"

Renee got up and approached the counter where she was met with a burger and fries on a white plate. When she reached for the dish, Ryan said, "Renee Wylie, you just can't stay away from the Joint."

"Well, this is the only place that sells the best cheeseburgers in Woodbury."

Ryan chuckled, shooting his dimples at her, "I see honesty suits you well."

"Is there anything that doesn't?" She joked.

"For the most part, no, however, the night doesn't do any woman favors for a woman like yourself in this circumstance." He implied, forcing Renee to wrinkle her eyebrows in confusion. "It's a little too late to be out here, don't you think?"

"It's never too late for a cheeseburger, Ryan," she lightly pulled her mouth upward in a warm smile. "Besides, I'm not completely alone." And with that, Renee took the dish back to the counter where she and the little girl sat at Renee's old seat in the corner near the window.

The second Renee set the meal in front of her, the girl scarfed down her entire burger, leaving only her fries on the plate.

"You like it?" She asked, beaming at the sight of the little girl's hunger being satisfied with nourishment, being that she had no idea when was the last time she had eaten. "I guess it's been a while since you've eaten. Do your parents feed you at home?"

The girl started on her fries and this cued Renee to reach for the ketchup bottle near the napkin dispenser. "Here, try this." She flipped up the cap and squeezed a decent amount on one side of the plate where the burger once was. The red liquid came out of the bottle and landed on the white plate as the girl dipped a fry in the sauce. The sides of her mouth perked slightly and Renee could tell that she had made the right move, introducing the girl to this delectable and well-loved condiment.

"Do your parents feed you?" The little girl nodded, which confused Renee because her stomach told another story back at the mall lot. Nevertheless, she left it alone and decided not to ask any more questions. However, her mouth was aching to ask another, but this question was more focused on how she got that bandage under her eye. Was she getting abused at home and could she have escaped her home because she was tired of putting up with the violence? Or was Renee blowing it out of proportion and maybe it was just a mere small cut that she got by accident? Who knew?

Nevertheless, she chose to mind her business for the moment and let the little girl enjoy her meal.

"I wish I was as lucky as you. My parents would've never allowed me to drag them to McDonald's this late. It's a good thing, you have me, right?" She laughed.

Once she was finished, Ryan had taken it upon himself to clear the counter when he announced with an uncertain grin, "Let me take that off your hands." He grabbed the plate and furrowed his eyebrows, seeming hesitant about completing his action.

By the time Renee made it back to her railroad apartment, she had decluttered her usual sleeping space, her couch, where she spent her hours worrying about what needed to be paid this month and the next. When the little girl picked up her notepad that recorded last month's spending, Renee freaked, though the child had no intention of destroying the piece of paper.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Renee apologized, removing the remaining scraps of paper and her calculator from the piece of furniture. She put them on her coffee table in which various things were sprawled all over the place. Her reading glasses were upside down, perched adjacent to an open bag of chips. Coffee rings were marked all over the glass like polka-dots as a sudden neat freak Renee knocked down her tower of six energy drinks and scooped them into a tiny trash can.

And, sure the thought of wiping down her table with a disinfectant wipe had crossed her mind, but she had not bothered to permit it to convince her to complete the task. At the time, it did not seem like a hassle, but rather, it was something that could be done once the little girl was gone.

As Renee rushed to get the place presentable and settled for her unplanned guest, the girl had wasted no time in making herself at home and picking up Renee's camera from the television stand. Like most people nowadays, Renee never watched anything on the big box since she had the luxury of owning a laptop, and streaming services were conveniently dominating the world.

With her back to the girl, Renee had pulled a blanket and a pillow out of her cupboard in the corner of the room near her snake plant whose leaves had started turning yellow and dirt looked parched. She shut the door, put the pillow on the arm of the couch after fluffing it, and neatly spread the blanket across the cushions.

"You know, I know I didn't say anything earlier, but I used to have a shirt just like that when I was your age." She pulled the blanket back halfway and collected her glasses from the table. "You couldn't get me to take it off. I used to watch Barney & Friends all the time. I still do, but don't tell anyone else I said that."

When Renee turned around, her camera was back in its rested place, but the little girl was nowhere to be found. She was in the kitchen, frozen, staring at the photos that were held up by fruit magnets on the refrigerator, but one image caught her eye. It was a photo of a carousel that compelled her to remove it from under the banana magnet.

"I took that when I was a sophomore in high school," Renee explained, making her way to the next room. "There was this photography contest that I entered and the prompt was to take a photo of what your life would look like in ten years. I wrote that my life wouldn't look like a 9-to-5, working in a cubicle next to people who are drained by life and are barely making ends meet. Rather, my life would look lively and bright, and I would never be tied down to one job. I would be traveling the world and taking photos along the way."

The girl listened carefully, eyes fixated on her temporary caretaker as she held the photo in her hand.

"Unfortunately, not all dreams come true." Renee frowned.

Then, the little girl pointed to something behind the carousel: a sign of the amusement park where the image of the ride was taken. "That's Stauber Park, it's in the town square. Have you been there? Have your parents ever taken you there?" The girl shook her head.

"Well, it's really fun. I used to go there all the time when I was little, especially during the weekends. Once I would get on the carousel, I would beg my mom to let me ride it over and over again, but she told me it wouldn't be fair if I got to go on the same ride while my little brother didn't get to go on any rides he wanted to."

The girl stared at the photo in awe and Renee noticed the interest the girl had taken to the park. She knew that the girl wanted to go there, and who was she to deny her of that curiosity and anticipation? For all she knew, the girl's parents probably never took her anywhere or allowed her to have a normal and fun childhood.

Suddenly, a thought popped into Renee's head when she suggested, "I'll make you a deal. How about we head on down to Stauber Park tomorrow, and then we go to the police station to sort this whole thing out?"

The girl looked like she was giving her suggestion some thought.

"How does that sound? Do you like that?"

The girl nodded, and the deal was made. That night, Renee and the little girl slept in the living room together, with Renee on the floor with a blanket and a pillow and the girl on the couch. She had not called or texted Michelle to let her know that she made it home. Michelle had not bothered to bug her friend about it since she was a busy bee, but she also knew that it should not have taken her that long to notify her friend.

The next day, Renee called out of work, and they went to Stauber Park and rode on many rides. They were there for hours, and they never went to the police station. For some reason, the little girl would not allow Renee to take her to the station. At first, Renee thought the girl did not want to go because of the fear of her parents finding her. The idea of her parents being abusive hung over her head, but she realized soon enough that was probably not the case. Rather, the idea of the girl being dropped off at an empty lot because she was Damien incarnated made more sense because the next thing she did seemed manipulative and sinister.

A concerned and tired Renee would try to convince the girl that they should leave to go to the police station. When she brought this up, the little girl would hold her breath until Renee changed her mind. Renee would scream at her and tell her to stop, but the little girl would not listen. This scared Renee, but it angered her and boiled her blood to an extent.

Once the girl turned to blue, Renee would panic and reason with her, saying, "Okay, fine. We can go tomorrow." They would wait until tomorrow to go to the police, but every time, Renee brought up the police, the girl would point to the photo of the carousel and Stauber Park. When Renee refused, the girl would hold her breath again until she was blue and Renee would take her to the park. This manipulative tactic would go on for five days.

Never in a million years would Renee allow anyone to tell her what to do with her life, let alone, a child. As the days went on, she would get sadder and cry in the living room as the girl slept like an angel. She could not leave the girl's side without the girl finding her or popping up out of nowhere like a ghost. When she would cry in public, people would look at her strangely and some would ask her what was wrong. She would not say anything because she grew mute. She could not ask for help; there was no way for anyone to help.

Her friends and her family could not even help. They were concerned about her phone calls and text messages going unanswered. Her boss at her job was also concerned because she stopped showing up for work and had not communicated with him about her absence for a while. When her friends and family would drop by her house, she would not open the door for fear the little girl would pull something or hurt those she cared about. Regardless, she did not know what she was capable of. For all Renee knew, she had a Case 39 on her hands.

But, atlas, her nightmare would come to an end when Michelle ordered a wellness check on her best friend. When the police found her, Renee was curled in a ball on the living room floor. She was hugging her knees, rocking back and forth, tears falling down her cheeks and red eyes widened as they twitched trying to gain the hours of sleep she lost for the past five days. Renee was not herself; she was different. She was drained mentally, emotionally, and physically.

The little girl had tired her out after forcing her to get on ride after ride and indulging in the only thing besides a burger that brought her happiness: a corndog. Renee could not get the taste of the corndog out of her mouth. It had all become too much for her to handle. Those five days had done damage to her body.

"Ms. Wylie, we're here to check up on you. Your friend Michelle sent us here. Is everything all right?" a plump officer with his salt and pepper hair inquired.

"Please," Renee begged, blinking slowly.

"Please what, ma'am?" the officer's younger female partner asked, kneeling down in front of Renee.

"Please get her out of my house." Renee's voice croaked as a vein popped into her forehead.

"Get who, Ma'am?" The young officer furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

"That demon child with the Barney shirt and red rain boots!" Renee raised her voice, pointing to the empty couch. "Can't you see her?! She's right there with that stupid bandaid under her left eye! She won't leave me alone!"

Both the young and older officer turned their heads in the direction where Renee pointed. They were taken aback by the nonexistent child when they exchanged looks.

"Ma'am, there's nobody there." The ginger-haired woman consoled Renee in a soft but low-pitched tone, placing her hand on Renee's.

"What do you mean? She's been here with me ever since Thursday." Renee rambled.

While the young officer tried to comfort Renee, the older officer's radio had radio went off. "10-25." A man over the radio responded to the officer who had called in. "Can you contact Mitchell?"

"10-4." A gritty voice answered.

"Tell her we got the little girl who went missing at the town square four hours ago. She goes by the name Irene."

"10-4. What's your location, O'Brien?" He sound annoyed.

"My location is 45 Montgomery Road. Irene was found at a corndog stand at Stauber Park. The child is in custody; we have her."

Then, finally, everything fell into place, and everything made sense to Renee.

"10-4."

The first officer then concluded, "She also wants her mother to know that she's sorry. She didn't mean to scare her, she just wanted to ride the carousel one more time."

"Irene?" Renee looked up at the female officer.

"Ma'am, do you know her? Was she the little girl you were talking about?"

Renee did not answer her question. She stared blankly and said, "My name is Irene; I'm the little girl that went missing when I was nine."

Mi-Note

Thank you all for reading! I just wanted to explain the whole point of the story, which is to never grow up no matter how old you are. The intersection of the different timelines is written on purpose because I wanted Renee's character to be reminded of her childhood and how that is something grown-ups should cherish when they're both young and old. Despite the reminder being almost sinister and haunting, it was a way to convey a message to her whether she received it or not.

Even though we have responsibilities, we should still give ourselves the agency to do the things we did when we were younger. As you can tell after reading the story, Renee's constant concern as an adult is not being financially secure. This kind of behavior is more common with children who grew up in a working-class family and were constantly reminded that money did not go on trees. Growing up this way can cause children to grow up too fast because they are constantly worrying about things that grown-ups normally worry about. I hope this story resonated with you guys because this kind of behavior affects people in more ways than they know.

The last thing I want to say is to learn to be a child again. Do things that remind you of your childhood. Don't let the world choose when you can stop being a kid.

P.S. I realized that Renee's lost memory of going missing at Stauber Park could be that she was so young when it happened that she did not remember. Maybe, that is why she did not recognize her younger self in her presence. The experience could have been traumatic for a young girl her age, which is why this memory was stored in the back of her brain.