I drop my phone on the covers reading and rereading the message. My eyes dart around the room with the knowledge he’s here somewhere. I consider calling out of the window to someone, anyone. I glance at my clock, fuck it’s 11, who would be up? Wait! The officer! Please be here. Please be here.

I move my legs through the air trying to get my weight off of my bed. Without thinking I step onto my floor, before I can take another breath searing pain radiates into my foot. I bend over to see a plug embedded into the heel of my foot. Fuck!

The blood starts to pour from the wound, staining my bedroom Carpet with a deep crimson. I bite at my fist knawing at the flesh, forcing myself into silence. I spot an old shirt on my floor and tie it around my foot, whimpering as the material suffocates the skin of my flesh.

I inhale deeply, a pathetic attempt to centre myself. I drag myself up, my palms and left leg supporting my weight.

I hobble over to my window, avoiding the floorboards that I know will give me away. I’m sure my heart stops right then when I see that the cop car is no longer there, so that’s it? No more than an hour and that’s all the protection I get? Oh god, no no no.

He must’ve taken him out and solved another problem. Why else would he have disappeared?

He must be here to end this, to end me. He can’t have people knowing what he did, he seems to be a man all about tying up loose ends.

I need to get to the front door. That’s my only choice, confrontation is not an option.

I inch my way further over the landing and manage to get down the stairs without a sound. I reach the last step of my staircase. The lights in the kitchen are off. Shit. I make an effort to always keep my kitchen task light on, one too many times have I fallen on my face at 3 AM attempting to get water.

A glance at my bloodied foot quickly reminds me this is not one of those times.

I do a quick scope of the living room and my pulse eases a little when I find that he isn’t in there, but ramps back up when I realise he must be in the only place I haven’t looked. I glance toward the front door to see my key isn’t in there, god now is the time you want to misplace things, Ava?

He might be outside instead? I’m sure I didn’t hear him come in, but then again I’m sure he isn’t unfamiliar with having to be discreet.

I silence my breathing, my elephant footsteps probably making it pointless. I bet he knows my exact location right now anyway, the freak.

When I inch towards my kitchen entrance, I freeze, every muscle in my body seizing, my injury long forgotten with the panic flooding me. At my kitchen table sits a dark figure, his black hoodie covers his head once again. The hoodie clings to his frame, the definition of his muscles visible through the material. The image of yesterday replays in my mind. He could do that to a grown man. What the fuck could he do to me?

Panic claws at my chest and I spot a glint of silver in my peripheral, I dart to my left towards the kitchen island and grab the biggest knife I own. I remember the words of my teacher in high school that you should never use a weapon you wouldn’t wish to be used on you. Well. I’m out of options. She wasn’t against a six-foot-everything psychopath.

I internally kick myself for reporting what I saw, none of this would be happening, was it really worth my life? What if the guy was scum, a lowlife, just another criminal paying his debt.

“Are you going to stand there or use it?”

How on earth did he see that?

He doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t look at me, and I can’t see if he has a weapon from my viewpoint, I would have to look over his shoulder. And that would require nearness I wasn’t all too comfortable with. Why am I kidding myself? His form didn’t come from sitting on the couch, I’m sure his fists would serve him just fine.

“Why are you here?” My voice was barely coherent.

When he doesn’t respond I continue. “I have an alarm that calls the cops, they’re on their way. So you should leave. Now.”

It was only a half lie. I do have one, but I’m certain if I’d have pressed it my death would have come a lot sooner.

“Disabled it.” He responds coolly, as though he anticipated my response.

I stutter as I figure out what to reply to that.

“What do you want from me?”

He doesn’t move from his position, and so I wait for his next move. His next word. He can only be here for one reason. He didn’t appear to be a man fond of small talk, but I don’t understand his approach, why would he not get my death over with? Why is he just sitting there, the apprehension scares me more, the not knowing.

“Tell me exactly what you saw, and do not lie to me, because I’ll know.” He utters, his cadence unfaltering.

A thought occurs to me that if he could get my number and see my phone activity within a matter of mere hours, he would surely know what I said on my phone call.

He wants to know if I’ll lie. But why? Just kill me and leave. What is the point of this?

Mind games maybe? These types always got off on the fear they inflicted, but he wasn’t even looking at me.

“I saw you pulling teeth from a man. and you asked him to give you a name.” I mutter, hoping the truth saves my life.

I shift from one foot to the other, a Cold sweat begins to seep from every pore of my body. My heart Is beating out of my chest, so much so I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

There’s a few moments of silence before the screech of the chair sounds. My grip on the knife tightens, turning my knuckles white. I step back before my spine meets the counter. He moves slowly, purposefully. He tucks the chair under the table, a strange gesture given what I’d witnessed him do.

A killer with manners. Though I suppose in fairness to him, I hadn’t seen him take the man’s life.

I freeze as his eyes lock with mine, he lowers his hoodie, leaving no part of his face cloaked. I step back until my spine hits the dimmer behind me, offering a subtle glow, enough to see him. His green eyes pin me against my counter, and I’m frozen in his stare. His sharp jaw hardens and flexes as he watches me, his expression is blank, giving nothing of his thoughts away.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I blurt out before thinking. I have to know. I can’t sit in this fear much longer, he has me practically cornered. I’m paralysed with fear, I’m not sure if I even could run from him now.

His expression remains stoic, unmoving. “I need you to come with me.” He says with an eery calm, his tone suggesting it wasn’t a request. What? No. I’m not being sold as some toy, or whatever this freak had in mind. No. Not a chance.

I start shaking my head profusely, unable to find the words to protest. I bite back the tears, unwanting to show any weakness.

“This is your only option, Ava. You won’t be harmed. I’ll explain further when we arrive.” He says emotionless.

My muscles tense at his use of my name. On text it was eery, but in person? This felt far too real.

I knew what this meant, books, movies, and shows, all had the same ending.

“No, please, no.” I shake my head, my eyes begin to water, each tear slipping down with a might I wish I had right now.

He cocks a brow, unimpressed. “It wasn’t a request, Ava. We’re leaving. Now.”

He walks toward me, his lengthy strides quickly consuming the space between us.

I cradle my arms to myself, thinking that somehow it will stop this from happening. “Just tell me where we’re going. Please.” My voice cracks, as I plead with him.

He remains emotionless, unbothered by the fact that I was distraught. Why would I expect any less?

He sighs quietly, “I can’t tell you that. I can tell you, coming with me will save your life.”

Why do I have to be so nosy, why didn’t I just go back home and pretend nothing happened. Fuck my moral compass, because I’m sure it’s just gone and gotten me killed.

My mind floods with images of the worst outcome, I’m strung up, in some shitty warehouse, being sold to the highest bidder I’m immediately doused in fear and something in me seems to switch, that whatever I have to do, I will not go there.

I manage to find my voice and swallow my panic. “No. No way. I’m not going to be fucking sex trafficked or whatever you and your people do.” I spit at him, wiping my tear-soaked cheeks.

His lips twitch, and part of me itches to know what just crossed his mind. “It wasn’t a request, Ava. You should know by now that I’m not a good man. I’ll have no problem being a terrible one. Easy or hard way, you choose.” He states, unbothered by my pleas. He doesn’t have a shred of humanity within him. He can’t.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to find calm because I’m certain at any given moment my heart will give out.

When I reopen my eyes he scans my face, looking for something.

His expression hardens, not stern but stone.

Does he really have no empathy? My mind flicks back to that night, shutting that thought down entirely, of course, he doesn’t. You don’t exactly pull out a man’s teeth with a spanner and then proceed to wear your heart on your sleeve.

The minute I stepped foot in front of him he’s shown me nothing but coldness not a flicker of anything even comparable to sympathy, he doesn’t give a single fuck.

I die here painfully, definitely, or I go with him with the possibility of not dying, but also possibly something much worse.

“You won’t be harmed.”

His previous words ring in my head, he sounded so serious, maybe even sincere. Truth seemed to be an integral thing to him, was he doing me the same honour I did him?

I could flag someone from his car? If he filled his tank, I could run. I’d long accepted at this moment that witness protection was my only hope for coming out of this situation alive, so be it.

“How long will I be gone?” I ask Montone, though internally my emotions were beginning to bubble over.

“No more questions, Ava. I need you to be compliant and silent. This will be over a lot sooner if you follow my instructions.” His voice is somehow even colder than before.

I wonder what he would sound like if he were to get angry, with those piercing eyes and a voice that could command thousands, I burn that imagery from my mind.

A low humming vibration sounds throughout the kitchen, snapping me from my thoughts.

He moves with fluidity, retrieving the phone from his pocket. ”What is it?” He says into the phone with an icy indifference. I was half relieved it wasn’t just me he treated with such hostility. So it wasn’t personal. At least not entirely.

My heart pounds as words are exchanged, I Can’t bear not knowing what would happen to me or where I would be going. I'm so panicked I almost want to just get it over with. I feel my pulse in my throat as he tells the guy on the other end that he’ll see him soon. He’ll see who soon? No fuck! I bet this was some sort of deal.

I can’t imagine a scenario where this will end well for me, why on earth does he need me to go with him for any other reason than the one blinding me in my face?

His eyes then flicker to mine, lingering a moment too long for comfort before he speaks,” Can I trust you to be quiet?” He says with an unspoken warning.

My heart pounds faster at his question. I nod my willingness to behave as he’d asked, wringing my hands as they begin a cold sweat.

“Where’s your phone?” He questions, impatience in his tone.

I think back to my bedroom, to the text to the plug sinking into my foot, a wave of pain washes over me as I bring attention to the sensation, I’m Unable to stop myself from wincing as the adrenaline seems to wear away.

“My bedroom,” I answer, my voice coming out as a whine as the pain of my wound gets more intense the longer I stand on it.

I switch my weight to my other foot, his eyes draw to the action,” You’re injured.” He says, merely stating it as an observation.

He moves closer, and I instinctively step back, my better instincts recognising him as a predator immediately. If only my instincts had responded better the other night.

“Stay still.” He commands, his rough voice coating my skin with uneasiness. This close I could smell him, smell his cologne. It was rich and dark, matching him entirely. It felt too personal an aspect for someone capable of what I witnessed.

I couldn’t bear to look at his face, it made this all too real. The way they say that in dreams you can never truly see faces, his face in front of me proved the dreadful truth that this was not a dream. His eyes were locked onto mine, the inhumane shade of green cooling my skin, his sharp jaw could quite possibly cut me, he was haunting to observe, it was overwhelming.

He lowers to his knees, his tattoo-covered hands grabbing my ankle, his fingertips burning the skin of my leg. I want to rip my foot away from his grasp, needing his blood-stained hands off of me.

My breath catches in my throat when he reaches into his pocket. I exhale a sigh of relief when I see that it’s just a torch.

I wobble when he grabs my ankle the counter being too far in front and the fridge too far behind me,” Put your hand on my shoulder.” He instructs, the urge to grab a knife and sink it right into his skull crossed me this moment, but being already slow and quite badly injured I wouldn’t want to take my chances.

I hesitantly placed my sweaty palm on his left shoulder, feeling the muscles beneath the material of his hoodie flex beneath my palms. The reminder that he could snap me in half at any given moment washed over me in the form of a cold sweat. I can’t be stupid.

He glances toward me for a second, his face expressionless, and my stomach turns at the intensity of his stare. What were his motives? What could he possibly want with me other than torture? How could this be in my best interest?

Stop Ava. Just focus.

He angles my ankle to get a closer look at my wound, he shines the torch and his eyes narrow. He swiftly swipes a clean cloth from the counter, “deep breath.” He instructs.

I do so, before feeling the extent of my injury as he ties the cloth around my wound. “You’re lucky, any deeper and you would have punctured an artery.” He mutters, almost scolding. I nearly laugh, lucky?

He rises to his full height, the reminder shuddering that he was at least two heads taller than me. He pulls a set of cuffs from his pocket, and the gleaming silver warps slightly in my vision, god have I lost too much blood?

He fastens the cuffs to one of the draws of my marble counter, ”I don’t need to warn you of what will happen if you scream.” He says in a deathly quiet.

His light footsteps proceed past me down the hallway and up the stairs to my bedroom. It unnerves me that I can hardly hear him.

I whimper at the pain now searing down my leg, it might have stopped the blood but fuck did it stop the pain. I move my weight to my left leg.

The cuffs immobilise me, I can hardly move an inch. Wait. I have a hairpin. God this is a long shot but I have to try, after bending the black wire straight I get to work twisting it into the lock of the handcuffs. I can’t hear a thing upstairs which forces my heart to pump harder, I don’t need to imagine what he would do if he caught me.

After useless twisting my heart plummets to my throat and a click sounds throughout the space, I fucking did it. My palms began to get sweatier as I think of what to do, just fucking move Ava Jesus!

I nearly blew my other ankle out limping toward the front door, not caring for the noise of my locks as speed was my priority. My heart thunders in my ears, adrenaline being the only thing keeping me upright.

After successfully unlocking my two latches I scream at myself for not keeping my key nearby, where the fuck did I leave it?

“You’re smarter than you look.”

“Not smart enough.” I lean my forehead against my front door, my voice just shy of a sob

I turn toward him, expecting to at least find a scrap of expression sitting on his sculpted face, but once again nothing. At this point I want him to. To show some emotion, any emotion. It was beyond chilling. This is so obviously nothing to him.

“Where’s your pain relief?”

Huh?

“Cupboard above the hob.”

He saunters toward the kitchen, filling a glass with water. I stand motionless at my door.

He reads my baffled expression responding with, ”I don’t need you passing out, take three.” He shoves the pills and water into my hands. I obliged because, one—I desperately needed the pain to subside, and two—I did not want to refuse this man.

After a jut of his chin in recognition of my compliance, he retrieves the cuffs from his pocket,” Put your head down.” He demands.

No no no. It was happening. No, I can’t do this.

“Why?” My voice cracks with the pitch of my fear.

“I won’t ask you a second time. Do it Ava.”

I bow my head, preparing for the worst, probably a fucking bag. My hands shake against my sides, I clamp them into fists to give myself something to focus on.

My body freezes when I feel his fingertips on my scalp. Grazing the skin beneath my hair quickly, skillfully. Oh. For hair grips.

“Come on. You’ve wasted enough time.”

Ugh, I’ve missed writing so much! After what was practically a 20-week block, a ton of errors but I’m so happy I’ve written something beyond a draft.🤍

Not really the prompt

“Henry just told me his parents won’t be home tonight.”  I shut my locker door and looked at Sarah. “And?” “And he invited me to… hang out.” Her lips curved upward in a coy smile. “I think tonight might be the night.” “The night?” I gave her a curious look. “For what?” “To… you know!” I smiled at her. “Don’t make me say it, it ruins the fun of it!” “Of course I know,” I said, laughing.  “I’m nervous, if I’m being honest. But excited.” We began walking to class together. “Wait, so you’ve never-” “Shush!” She covered my mouth. “No, but after tonight that won’t be an issue anymore.” “I just would’ve expected you to have at least a couple under your belt by now.” “That’s the reputation I’ve carefully cultivated, so don’t go ruining it.”  During class, I looked over at Sarah. She sat with her hands neatly folded. Throughout the day, she carried a calm expression. Inside, though, I knew she was as giddy as she could possibly be. She couldn’t hide it from a friend of seventeen years.  I went home that night and slept by myself in a twin bed. The next morning, Sarah was different. I shut my locker door and looked at her. “You haven’t said anything about last night.” She glanced up at me, then quickly glanced back down. “What? Oh, yeah, it was… good.” Her eyes were cloudy, and they wouldn’t look at mine for more than a second. Her hands moved to her mouth to bite her fingernails, a tick I hadn’t seen her have in years. “So did you… you know?” I teased, poking her on the shoulder. Her arm flinched. “Hey, are you okay, Sarah?” That seemed to snap her out of her trance for a second. Her mouth opened to say something, but just as the words were about to leave it, the bell rang.  A sigh escaped her. “We should get to class.” During class, I looked over at Sarah. Her hands sat in her lap. Throughout the day, her face carried a nervous expression. Inside, I had no idea what was going on. I was worried. Whatever it was, I was going to get to the bottom of it. She couldn’t hide it from a friend of seventeen years. Could she? As the days grew shorter, Sarah seemed to, too. Every day seemed to wear her down, until she was a husk of the person I once knew. She started hanging out with Henry, Henry’s friends, and when they broke up, she didn’t run to me like I thought she would. She had new friends, and they taught her things I wouldn’t have thought she wanted to learn.  Whatever they did, though, it seemed to revive her spirit, and she met each day with the same confidence she did before that night at Henry’s house. I saw her with a new boy every week. She stopped talking to me. The days grew longer, and the school day seemed to, too. I devoted every waking moment to studying chemistry, biology, and the like. I graduated high school, I went to med school, I became a doctor.  One day, I received an email from a potential patient, a pregnant woman with AIDS. She wanted help with managing her health during her pregnancy. I gladly accepted her request.  Her name was Sarah. I shut the door to her bedroom and looked at Sarah. She looked older, much older than she should have. Her once-beautiful features had been worn out. But she was still Sarah.  “Hello, doctor,” she said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.” From her bed, she extended her bony hand out to shake mine. My appearance must have changed over the years as well, I thought, because she doesn’t recognize me. Either that, or she doesn’t want to think about her past. I examined her and helped her make plans to keep her health in check, and to hopefully prevent her disease from affecting her baby. I also made plans to check in on her weekly. Before leaving, I had a final question for her. “Who is your baby’s father?” “Oh, I’m afraid I don’t know. But I do know that I’m her mother, and that’s all that matters to me.” Sarah smiled. Despite her worn out looks, she had a certain vivacity about her.  Over the next few months, I sat at Sarah’s bedside once a week. We would talk for hours, long past when her appointment time ended. She would tell me stories about her old life, a life filled with grandeur, with men pining after her every chance they’d get. She married a rich entrepreneur and had everything she could ever want. He died in a car crash, and she inherited his fortune, and could have any man she wanted. And she did.  “When you live your life like that, there’re consequences. That’s what I learned. I only hope she doesn’t learn it as late as I did.” Sarah smiled and rubbed her belly. The days grew shorter, and soon it was time for her baby to be delivered. We rushed her to the hospital, and she wasn’t looking good. She didn’t have the strength to push the baby out, and we had to perform a C-section. Her baby was small and frail, like her. We worried about her health, so we put her in the incubator. Sarah wasn’t doing much better. “Doctor,” she called. “Come here.” I went and sat at her bedside. She reached out her hand, and I grabbed it. “I know it’s you.” “I know,” I whispered. “I just wanted to thank you. You’re the only person in my life who hasn’t tried to get something from me.” I shut my eyes. “She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be strong. Stronger than me.” Sarah said this confidently, and I believed her.  “She needs someone… like you… in her life.” Relaxing her hand, she closed her eyes. I looked at Sarah. “Sarah?” Her hand was cold against mine. I felt my stomach drop, and my head started spinning. I closed my eyes again. “Please don’t leave me again.” I looked at Sarah. Then I shut my eyes. Then I looked at Sarah. Then I shut my eyes, then I looked at Sarah, and she had her hand in my hand, and her hand off the side of the bed, and she carried no expression on her face and inside I knew that she was dead and you couldn’t hide that from anyone. I held her hand close to my heart and sobbed.  I named her child Sarah.

oh. look at that. ha. ha. that’s funny. I’m an idiot. just when I thought this could be the day, the night you finally talk to me. I’m all prettied up, just for you. and you look as good as always but even better because of the suit. I like your tie. it’s a pretty color. a light turquoise blue. it kind of matches her dress. that’s dark blue, but still. both blue. I’m in line with my friends, trying not to burst into tears. relax. this doesn’t mean anything. so what if they’re taking pictures together? just the two of them, four pictures on a photobooth strip. that doesn’t mean anything. that doesn’t mean they’re actually a thing. that doesn’t mean they’re together. I’m staying optimistic. we still made eye contact. twice. not just once, but twice. that could mean something. or not. because he’s with her. at least according to my friends that come back giggling about how cute all the couples are together. when I ask them who they’re talking about they say you. you and her. it’s my fault, I haven’t told them about you. I don’t tell a lot of people about things like this. maybe I should’ve. maybe they wouldn’t have been so excited while my heart got crushed in the shadows. but that wouldn’t change you and her. you still went with her to hoco. I think. that’s what it looked like. why else would you take pictures together? anyways. I should’ve known. you’d never fall for me. you barely know who I am. you don’t know me. you don’t look at me. you don’t talk to me. I wish you did. but you talk to her. yeah, she’s in your friend group, but still. that doesn’t change anything. I guess I could be wrong about this. maybe you are just friends. but I shouldn’t get my hopes up. that was stupid of me. I won’t do it again. promise. I’ll just sit and watch from the sidelines. I’ve never talked to you. and I probably never will. I just need to figure out how to be okay with that.

I gasp as the spiked whip hits my back, blinding me with pain.

But as I'm laying there, my brain floods with questions.

The most prominent one...

"Why?"

Why have we been abandoned on this planet?

Why am I in so much pain?

Why...

Another lash makes me cry out, sobbing.

"Come on, Casper, beg your god to make it stop... is he not saving you?"

The voice is distorted and garbled, and I don't know if it's because I'm losing a lot of blood, or because that's just how it sounds.

I'm scared.

God isn't going to save me... because he doesn't exist.

That's what scares me the most.

Snow descends gently, each flake melting as it touches my flushed skin. My shoes squelch through the slush on my driveway. I'm about to twist my key in the lock when the clamorous screech of metal halts me. My skin prickles with goosebumps. What the hell was that? I take a look around the street. I’m unable to get a full glimpse, the only source of light being the sole street lamp. Not now. Not tonight.

Screech! The sound comes again, louder and harsher. My shallow breaths fog in the cold air. I veer around the corner hesitantly, my pulse** **quickening when I spot a hooded figure. The figure moves deliberately, like a predator. I move a few steps closer to gain a better view. As I peer at the figure I spot a face under their hood, male. Dressed head to toe in black.

Get inside Ava. Now.

The longer I look, the clearer the horrifying scene in front of me becomes. No, this cannot be happening. I catch sight of a person lying flat on the ground below the male dressed in black. Bile rises in my throat when I see his gagged mouth. He squirms underneath the assailant's foot, which is placed on his chest. His hands and feet are bound tight. The lack of light worsens my panic, drowning me in a sea of darkness.

Call the police Ava. Now. My hands move quicker than my mind, adrenaline acts for me. I snatch my phone to dial for the cops. My heart drops to my stomach when I’m met with the battery symbol. Really? Right now? Dread surges through me; I feel utterly alone. What am I supposed to do?

Without warning the metal once again screeches. I take a few steps and see the gleam of silver in the figure's hand—a wrench. He's going to use it on him. My pulse thrums against my ear in a chaotic rhythm.

Maybe If I scream, a neighbour will wake up in time? But I can’t risk him seeing me here, he could have a gun. I don’t like my chances there. I force my feet forward. There must be something I can do to distract him. I crouch behind a bush just metres away. I narrow my eyes to get a better glimpse. He can’t be. This can’t be happening. Blood spurts from the man’s mouth as he flails, begging for his life. The assailant is taking his teeth.

Cold sweat drenches my body as I tremble with panic My heart is in my throat. I need to do something. Anything. If my life didn’t depend on me not making noise, I would vomit on the tarmac floor beneath me. This is sick. Depraved.

“I’ll ask you again kade, the name.” The figure speaks, and god I wish he hadn’t.

The guy replies with gibberish, mumbling as he chokes on his blood. My gut twinges with guilt, that I’m simply standing here watching. But what would I do to help? I’m useless here.

I rummage through my pocket like a mad woman, grabbing my comb. Maybe I can set a car alarm off, he would be too distracted to ever notice me. Throwing the comb as far as I can, I make sure to stay well hidden. I can’t risk running away and leading him to my house. The figure's head spins toward the object as soon as it is mid-air, turning towards the direction it came from. Crap! I pray to a god I don't believe in that the dome of leaves hides my silhouette. I spot him walking towards the comb, he picks it up and inspects it with an unimpressed scowl.

I nestle deep into the nook of the bush. My neck then begins to itch. I feel something crawling on my skin. No not now! It crawls further and further along my back, and my body reacts before I can compose myself. I let out an audible grunt. His head snaps toward me. Please don't see me. I quiet my breath and keep my body still as best as I can manage. The crisp air is silent, I’d prefer screaming to silence. Silence is too unknown. Too unpredictable.

In an instant, he stands in front of me, my blood thumps harder when I see a pair of combat boots come into view. How did I not hear him coming? I force my head up, I’ll look guilty as sin if I can’t even look at him. I need to pretend I haven’t seen anything, my life quite literally depends on it.

The air is ripped from my lungs as soon as I cast my eyes on him. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but his face.. only intensifies my fear. The dim lighting of our surroundings casts a shadow across his face, his expression is unreadable. Everything about him has my instincts screaming for me to run.

“Why are you here?” He questions, his voice far more chilling up close.

I shift on my feet, itching to flee. “I live here,” I stammer.

“What did you see?” He questions, impatience in his tone.

“I heard metal and I thought someone was stealing a car. I didn’t see anything; I need to get back, my boyfriends expecting me.” I ramble, hoping my nerves aren’t obvious.

His eyes narrow in assessment, of course he doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe me.

“Fine. Run along then, can’t keep him waiting.” He says, his tone is taunting.

I sprint as soon as he says those words. I barge into my door, ramming the key in. My ribs ache as I take in deep breaths of oxygen, my body believing I am still in danger. I mean, aren’t I? He’s seen my face. And now he knows where I live.

I need to call the cops. I can’t just ignore what I witnessed, a man’s life was about to be stolen from him. I run to my bedroom, shoving the charger into my phone. After ten minutes of pressing the button like a maniac, it finally switches on. My fingers are rigid as I dial, I tell them everything I saw, the wrench, the teeth. The blood. They reassured me that dispatch was sending someone out and would be with me within five minutes.

I sit on the edge of my bed, ripping the skin off of my nail beds while I wait for the police to arrive.

A knock on my front door snaps me from my thoughts. My heart races, until I realise who it is. I curse as their light floods my bedroom. Could they not be discreet? The guy will easily put two and two together.

“Good evening ma’am. I’m Officer Bailey this is my colleague, Officer Harris. We understand you reported an incident that just occurred?” The blonde officer says. The concern etched onto her face eases my panic, she didn't take this lightly.

“Yes, that was me. Would you come in please, just with him being near.” I speak quickly, my voice hushed.

“Of course Ava, I understand.”

We move to my living area, Officer Harris then retrieves a notepad and pen. “We’re going to need a full statement from you, every detail you can remember from what you witnessed. Nothing is too small or insignificant.”

I recollect the events of tonight to the two officers. I panic a little at my stupidity to interact with the guy, why could I not just be selfish? This was not my place to intervene.

“That was incredibly helpful Ava, Thank you. You’ve been thorough. We’re going to conduct an official investigation and if we find anything of importance we’ll let you know straight away. Because the perpetrator spoke to you, and because he now probably knows your address, we will have a patrol officer sit outside your house. Primarily, for your safety. It’s just a precaution; in cases like these, the perpetrators often relocate. We will do everything we can.” She assures me. The certainty in her tone eases my panic slightly.

I lock the doors, going back every ten minutes to check I did so properly. I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, my body is brimming with panic and adrenaline. I thought a shower would stop the shaking. It didn’t. The figure's face haunts my mind, appearing every time I close my eyes, darkening it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it. This feeling reminds me of **him. **The panic. Adrenaline. It made me crave calm. Three years ago I felt fear far worse than anything I felt tonight. In a way, it thickened my skin. I’m not thankful though, just logical. I’d still do anything to erase that time from my life. The calls, the texts. Showing up to my work. I’d been to therapy, groups, and meetings. Everything.
It never leaves. I’m in a constant state of feeling hunted.

I grab my bag at five on the dot and say goodbye to my colleagues. The air is icier tonight, the winter nights are dark now. The sun escapes before I can appreciate it. I hurriedly grab my keys from my bag and get into my car, not wanting to linger whilst I'm by myself. I thought it was best to continue with my daily life despite what happened yesterday. If I’m being honest I’ve been in some deep denial about what happened, I told no one at work. I didn’t want to speak it aloud. That makes it real. Delusion seems to be the solution.

I pull onto my driveway, shooting the officer sitting opposite a smile. His expression of focus comforts me.

After a scolding shower, and multiple glances behind the shower curtain, I head to bed. I take another peek at the patrol officer outside, needing the reminder that I have someone looking out for me. I get into bed, desperately needing the sleep that i lost last night. I decide against switching off the lamp. I can’t deal with complete darkness right now. A text alert dings through my room.

“You should have locked your back door, Ava.”

I shoot upright, my bed groaning as I reread the text. I rub my eyes repeatedly, wishing for this to be a stress-induced nightmare. It does nothing, the words still sit there. Taunting me. That has to be him. The police are the only people that know. Wait. I did lock the door, didn’t I?

A cold sweat forms on my forehead. My breaths puff out in increments. I whip the blanket off of myself, feeling suffocated by it. I just need to call the cops. Now. That’s all I can do. I can’t face this lunatic. As I bring the dial pad to my screen, my phone dings with a second message.

“Put the phone down Ava, or this ends tonight.”

My thoughts are muted by the drum of my heart. The fear is too much for my body to handle. Time seems to still, as I question if the words on my phone are there. A sour metallic taste floods my mouth. I pull my teeth from my lips, realizing I'm bleeding.

I snap myself back into reality, fight seeming to beat flight. I can’t shout for anyone, I’m at the back of the house. What the hell do I do? I consider hiding in the bathroom, but the lock is long overdue to be fixed. If he’s already inside my house he would only need a minute, the police would need at least five. He’ll kill me. Probably rip my teeth out before he delivers the final blow too. I have nowhere to hide. I’m trapped.

Part two coming!🤍

Is this all I’m capable of? Crying? Weeping over my decided fate? Yet I lack the strength to stand tall, reach 18, and die audaciously.

A family curse, the firstborn is to die the first day of his eighteenth year. A simple heart attack. Here and gone. A dandelion seed passing by.

At fifteen, you could say my parents broke the news, but really, the news broke me.

What have I done? Where is the accountability?

Anger and sorrow are weaving together.

Why waste a precious day in vengeance, though. I’ve bowed to the facts, and each time the sun rises, I’m well aware of ticking time. Each morning, each night, I hold the day in my hands. A gift I will never concede. A full life. I will live a full life.

That night was long. I was alone. I petitioned. I sobbed and I will not apologize. Because these tears helped me feel. There is a time for gladness and sadness, a time for dancing and mourning. I grieved for a lost life but held my fifteen years in my heart.

The time for regrets has gone.

I will ride to the beach and smell the air. I will play catch with my sister. I will try baking a bacon cupcake. I will be honest with my feelings. I will clean the house for my mom. I will appreciate a cafe’s atmosphere. I will compliment freely. I will-

I will write my journeys down, so maybe someone will see how I tried.

[Viewer Reading Advisory]

{Sexual Themes, Adult Language, Drug Usage, Violence, and even trigger warnings}

Nessa (Venessa Jones) 21

Lilly (Lana Jones) 18

Cole (Collin Smith) 21

Zaz (Zavier Roberts) 20

Nicky (Nicole Peterson) 22

Max (Markus Salomon) 23

Nessa

A few drinks tucked away after work wasn’t to bad. Of course she’d chatted away with Nicky for an hour or so before sulking home. The trip the only thing on her mind.

Slipping quietly into the basement Lilly was snoring away to the fourth Harry Potter movie. Playing on the tv. While sitting fully upright on the couch in her short shorts and cami. Settling her down long ways and tucking her in Nessa yawned before slipping up to the kitchen.

“So do you think the trips a go?” Cole’s voice was the first she heard as she opened the door.

Cole was leaning against the counter, a whole half gallon of cookies and cream ice cream in hand. His light brown eyes caught hers and his devilish charm made her shiver a bit. Of course Cole was an ex football player, second string quarterback. So even though he’d started working instead of college, him and the guys never missed their gym days.

“Ughhhh” Nessa groaned loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Can we not talk about the dam trip”

“I thought everyone was in?” Zaz started but Max quickly elbowed him.

Zaz was the only boy of the friend group who was super buffed out. His carmel skin differed as well but nobody seemed to care much. If Nessa was being completely honest with herself, he’d be her boy choice of them. Yet he still seemed just as dangerous as the other two. Still as his blue eyes locked on hers, she melted a bit.

“Simply put. Lilly still has a week of school work and tests before we’d even think about doing this little summer fun show.” Into the fridge she went, grabbing stuff for a turkey sandwich.

“Doesn’t she do online school? I could tutor her. I was pretty good in school” Max said it rubbing his neck as the other boys laughed but his eyes were sincere.

“I don’t want to ask that of you? She’s my responisibility.”

“I think he definitely wants to help with that” Cole added in with a chuckle and Max glared at him.

“What do you mean by that!” Nessa had dropped the cheese on the bed and was glaring at them all. Waiting for one of them to crack.

“She’s a pretty girl. I ment nothing else” Cole put his hands up in mock surrender but she could see the unease on Max’s face.

“Any of you touch her and I swear I’ll cut your cock off and jam it up your ass” She smiled, getting back to her sandwich.

The boys all laughed at that of course. Except for Max, who kinda only chuckled with them sheepishly.

“So what’s the plan for the road trip? Nicky says she’s in by the way” Nessa said before filling her mouth with a huge bite of sandwich.

“So my parents have a huge camper, we will have to pay for gas and keep it clean. But it has our name all over it for the entire summer” Zaz grinned and went to grab at Nessa’s untouched other sandwich half.

Nessa quickly smacked his hand away and the other boys laughed. Zaz grinned a bit and went for the rest of the leftover fixens.

“Huge camper! Hot girls! All summer, this will be the best summer ever.” Cole’s huge grin was cut short by Nessa’s glare.

“Again Cole. I wouldn’t bet on getting any this summer. Unless your gonna find random girls on the road” Nessa laughed loudly.

“It’s a plan for sure” Cole shot back.

Done with her sandwich and the boys, she slipped back down into the basement. Lily was snoring lightly on her side, Nessa tucked herself in and fell asleep to the hum of her favorite toy.

Lily

Of course the weekend rushed by, Nessa clearly seeing something was out of the ordinary. So Max had kept his distance, even when Nessa had gone to work. Maybe he just really wasn’t all that into her.

“Did she wish to be his little play thing? Or was there more to this?” She thought to herself feeling a hand on her back as she took a bite of corn flakes.

“Morning Beautiful” Max whispered into her ear, his hot breathe causing a chill to run down her spine.

“Where you been stranger?” She cooed, finishing her mouthful and shaking him away. “Since you been ducking me”

“A lot of weekend parties. Didn’t expect Nessa to let you off the leash” She could feel his smile growing against the nape of her neck. “I can make it up to you”

Planting a kiss on her neck, grabbing her waist tightly. A faint moan leaving her lips made him chuckle. Cocky grin full swole as he grabbed her ponytail.

“Should I make it up to you?” His voice husky yet low against her ear lobe.

“How?” She questioned before she yipped out loud.

Max’s hands tucked against her skin, in the band of her short shorts. Looking back down at him her eyes glassy as she winked.

“Fine” He growled a bit, pulling her ample milky cheeks free in one quick motion.

Lily’s hands quickly tried to recover the garments, feeling a chill against her backside. Instead Max grabbed both arms and pinned them to the counter. A single groan escaped as she looked down at him.

“Tell Daddy. What it is you want?” A husky groan left her mouth as he blew air against her nether regions.

Instantly causing goose bumps to blossom all down across her cheeks and down her thighs. Taking a huge open mouth bite down onto her left cheek. Sucking on her cheek for only a second.

“I want…… fuck” Lily groaned, feeling Max pushing her up a bit.

Stradling the counter with her elbows, hanging on as she felt him spreading them. In seconds she felt his lips connect to her cookie. Slamming her eyes closed, trying to keep from groaning as wetness and heat flooded across her body like fire crawling across a dry field.

Then his tongue lapped up the dripping moisture that had already started to slip from her folds. Licking, sucking, teasing her most tender skin. Eliciting a loud moan, she hardly kept in.

Then the door to the basement swong open and she yipped. Trying to push him out of the way. Nessa rubbed her eyes, yawning loudly as Max stopped his motions. Freezing in place behind the island, Nessa’s footsteps alerting him to her joining breakfast.

“Surprised Max isn’t up here yet?” Nessa yawned again, Lily trying to reach under the island to grab her shoorts, to no avail.

“He was here earlier. Not sure where he went after” Lily took another spoonful and nearly spit it across the counter feeling Max’s tongue slowly slipping up her soaking wet folds.

“It’s fine. I’m headed out anyway.” Nessa sighed, grabbing a mat and book bag from the basement door area. “Girls invited me to work out with them”

“We’ll enjoy yourself” Lily called out as Nessa slipped out the front door, waving before it closed behind her.

“Are you out of your mind?” Lily spun around quickly, glaring down at his cocky grinned face with disdain.

“No. Don’t act all high and mighty on me neither” He growled, grabbing her just up her thigh past her knee.

Slipping up her body, lifing her cheeks clear over the marble island. Tossing her down before pulling her legs clear up to him. Now her cookie, presented to his eyes glistened and dripping. Going back down on her she moaned loudly.

Nessa

Out at the car she tossed the mat and stuff into the back seat. Cursing to herself, remembering the water bottle she’d left in the kitchen. Looking down at her cell quick, she could find time to go get it.

As she swing the door open, she screamed looking at the island in the kitchen. Lily was the first to react, pulling back and nearly falling ass over end off the other side of the island. Max just looked stupified, face glistening from her love juices. This is why they had been acting weird.

“Fuck!! You two really?” Nessa grumbled, stomping to her unfilled clear nearly a gallon water bottle and quickly running off out the door.

“Lily is fucking Max?” Nicky’s laughing tone didn’t sit well with Nessa.

“Ohhh yes. He was all in her cookie on the island. That’s where we make food” Nessa grumbled.

“Well at least someone’s getting some” Nicky continued to laugh.

“That’s not the point” Nessa groaned, reaching for her toes in the mirrored room and watching two guys stop at the door. “She shoulda told me”

“She’s young. Probably her first. Just let it go. Or I promise you, she won’t talk to you in the future about it” Nicky said shrugging, giving the two boys a wave.

I was foolish to believe I could have something so pure. My past self laughs at me as I stare into the mirror. My grief standing right next to him. The screams I have kept in rise in my chest as the tears I have held back weigh me down. She never saw this side of me and never would. When I was with her, all of this melted away. She brought a peace to the violence that swayed in my mind. When she said those three words, I froze. Not because I didn’t love her back, but out of the fear that my darkness would outweigh her light.

This feeling, this wrongness, this wrinkled sadness that only time and experience can bring upon oneself. I wish I didn’t know it.

This kind of wisdom isn’t worth its cost. I am not merely talking about some “be dumb, be happy” shitty ideals. I am talking about the gall and glass left at my throat as psychological souvenirs of the past.

I should have seen this coming But I must have been too preoccupied 13 is a taxing age It was a taxing year Taxing times Tax money torn from our hands Taxed to line old money pockets

Was this the start? I still can't pinpoint the date Was I even thirteen? I think it was a Saturday

I didn't see this coming I didn't see it as it hit me I see it now

The penny dropped years ago Our final penny Evading and swirling down I wonder where it will go Corrupt piggy banks Armed piggy banks

Countries perhaps Unelected leaders War zones maybe

The final penny circles the drain I knew I lost something that day ButI didn't quite realise how much