The Last Prank

On Thanksgiving, my sister posted a moving notice in the family group chat.

I followed the address. The ride-share driver dropped me at an intersection.

He said the GPS ended there. Took the cash. His taillights vanished into the cornfield.

My sister's voice dripped with glee over the phone.

"Ha! Surprise, pathetic loser! No signal out here, can't call a ride, right? Have fun walking back!"

I stood there frozen. My parents burst out laughing.

"God, who did she get this stupidity from? So easy to fool."

"Not from me."

"Enough, stop arguing. Time to eat. Let her figure her own way back."

Desperate, I used my last bit of battery to call my boyfriend.

The call connected. Same familiar background noise.

His laugh drifted through, light and mocking.

"Rain, you heard your parents. Find your own way back."

"It's not your first prank. Don't ruin the fun."

The line went dead.

Before, I would have called back crying, begging them to bring me home.

But this time... I just felt cold. I wasn't this family's daughter anymore. I was no one's daughter.

My sister loved Thanksgiving pranks, and the whole family played along.

The year before last, she slipped cat fur into my water and triggered my allergy attack. Last year, she swapped my shampoo for hair removal cream and ruined my internship interview.

This year, knowing I was terrified of the dark, they helped her trick me into the middle of nowhere.

And at the dinner table, they were betting how many minutes before I begged.

I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

In the darkness, I walked away from home.

I unilaterally declared this game over.

***

The darkness was so thick I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.

On the security camera feed, the family gathered around the table, four phones placed in the center.

Betting how many minutes before I called begging.

Maya said it with absolute certainty.

"One minute."

The Thanksgiving I turned ten, Maya poisoned my cat.

I screamed surrender, rushed into my parents' room, begged them to take the cat to the vet.

They watched me sob hysterically and didn't care.

"Maya's just playing a prank. If the cat dies, we'll adopt another one."

The cat went stiff in my arms.

Exactly one minute.

Afterward, no one ever mentioned adopting another one.

My parents spoke in unison.

"Five minutes."

The only time I ever ate Thanksgiving dinner with them, Maya swapped my soda for cleaning fluid.

My stomach seized. I rolled on the floor a full five minutes before I broke and begged.

That day, I got my stomach pumped. They went leaf-peeping by the lake.

After that, terrified of Maya's pranks, I never spent another Thanksgiving with them.

Cole felt sorry for me. He had a demanding job, but every year he swapped shifts to stay with me.

And now.

He had been silent the whole time. Suddenly, as if remembering something.

He shot up from the laughter, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.

My fingers tightened around my phone.

I was about to send Cole my location. Then I saw him stop at the doorway.

Cole glanced up at the clock on the wall. Smug and certain.

"I bet Rain won't call begging tonight."

"Because... the cell tower in that area falls under my company's jurisdiction. I just had my assistant issue a maintenance notice. After midnight, her location will be a dead zone."

My heart dropped.

Maya shrieked with delight and threw herself at Cole.

"No wonder you insisted on changing the address to the outskirts."

"Cole, you're truly the master prankster!"

Cole used to forbid me from going anywhere near that area.

He said it wasn't developed yet. Too many homeless people. Coyote attacks.

He said he was afraid for my safety.

Now, to play along with Maya's game, he was fine leaving me out there overnight.

The family cheered, celebrating their newest prank ally, huddling together.

The last flicker of hope in my chest died.

With one minute of signal left on my phone, I replied to that job application. A transfer to Milan in three days.

I'd hesitated because it was so far. No more family reunions.

But this kind of reunion wasn't what I wanted.

And neither was this family. I didn't want any of it.

Midnight hit. My phone turned into a brick with no signal.

I picked up a stick and walked in the opposite direction of home.

Strangely, my legs didn't feel weak anymore.

Because I finally understood something.

The thing I was truly afraid of in this life was never hiding in the dark.