Page 32 of No Bones About It

I shove as hard as I can against his leg bones, screaming again, “Run!”

A thunderous crash has me whirling around to see the fence panel explode into a million splintered pieces. The headlights shoot up, shining off the white of the Jack mask over BJ’s face as her car bounces over my yard, and for a second I can see Lois’s face in the moonlight, a manic grin plastered on her face.

I’ve never seen her look so happy. It's terrifying.

Then the lights drop down, and I throw my arm up over my face to keep them from blinding me.

A voice splits the night like rumbling thunder, “Tori!”

The world crashes down around me, surrounding me in darkness and enveloping me in chaos. The noise is so loud it reverberates in my skull as my body takes turns being weightless, then crashing down, over and over, like I’m rolling in the belly of a storm tossed ship.

When stillness finally comes, it's louder and more abrupt than the crash.

I lay unmoving, trying to get my bearings and process what the hell just happened. Did Lois run me over with her car?

When I can’t see anything except black nothingness I panic, worried I have head trauma and I’ve lost my vision. Fear that I’ll never shoot another photo again is immediately eclipsed by a new horrible thought. What if I never see BJ again?

Frantically, I reach up to explore with my hands, but I can’t find any sore spots or wetness to indicate an injury. My side is a little sore, but overall I’m relatively okay. I pat down my arms and legs, but can’t find anything serious. Nothing broken or out of place.

My frantic breaths seem to echo in whatever space I’m in, matched only by the pounding drum of my heart.

Voices finally pierce the dark veil that surrounds me, then a shaft of bright light breaks the gloom.

“Tori?” I hear someone calling my name.

“Hello?” I call back, squinting and shielding my eyes.

The light grows brighter as hands reach in, pulling away at whatever is surrounding me. As more light pours in, I look around and realize where I am.

“No,” I gasp.

A loud crack and another piece is pulled away. My eyes wildly dart around in horror as I realize my safety cage was indeed a cage. A rib cage to be exact.

“Are you hurt? We’re going to get you out of there,” the voice comes again.

“No,” I cry, but they don’t understand. The “no” isn’t confirmation that I’m unharmed. It’s a protest. I don’t want to be pulled out. I want to stay exactly where I am.

Another crack of plastic and a police officer leans in, shining a flashlight at me.

“You sure are lucky that skeleton fell on you,” he says and gives a low whistle.

Hands pull me towards the opening they made as I scrabble backwards, trying to get away from them. Trying to stay with him.

“No,” I wail again. “Mr. Bonejangles! He saved me.”

I try and brace my legs against what's left of him, sweaty hands trying to hold on to the broken rib ends, but my rescuers are insistent. I’m sure they think they’re pulling me toward safety, but I know they’re pulling me toward heartbreak.

My hands slip over the splintered plastic, and once I’m in the outside world once more, my heart shatters to match all that is left of my Mr. Bonejangles. Both of us are left in nothing but jagged pieces.

Voices and flashing red lights swirl around me, but all I can see is the devastation piled in my yard.

“Tori,” someone calls, and this time, it breaks through because I know this voice.

It takes me a moment to recognize the familiar face under the Halloween makeup and costume, but when I do, relief floods me. Through tears, I choke out, “Dawn, he saved me.”

The police officer shines his flashlight back at my face again. “Ma’am, did you hit your head?”

Another officer leans in, and although he drops his voice, I still hear him say to his partner, “She’s hysterical. It's just a plastic skeleton.”