Again, he asks me to meet him in the park. I say “No, you know if I get caught I’ll be dead by sunrise” quietly into the phone reciever. But we both know I am already sneaking out of my window. The window latch flips open so easily.

Into the summer night I am immediately warmed by the humidity. The air is sticky, making my hair cling to my face and my palms clammy. The park is only a block away but walking there feels like forever.

I see a light up the hill with a figure underneath creating a shadow. It’s him. I can’t see his face but I know it’s him. The air becomes cold as soon as I get close enough to see his teeth gleaming from the light of the park lamps. He opens his arms, and as I place my body in his grip I feel his heart beating. It’s fast. He’s sweating. He’s ice cold. He’s crushing me.

I bend my knees to escape his clutches, and duck backwards. He grasps my arm. Tight. His finger nails digging into my forearm. I look up to see him. And before I realize it I’m on my knees trying to pry his hand off me. He squads down and from his pocket he pulls his lucky hunting knife. He flicks the blade at me.

“You know, I think you got caught.”