I froze as the terrors lay within the note. Written on it was “You’re Next” along with a picture of a disfigured face of a girl, stained with blood. It had been happening for the past month, first starting with pictures of me, and then rising to photos of the girls he had killed. I had gone to the police, but they didn’t pay attention. They concluded that it was just a stupid prank. I had stopped going to them after the fourth note. I knew that he wanted to kill me. And no one was doing anything about it. Then after a while, my parents and friends’ forgot about it. But to me, it appeared like each image and every note was embossed on my mind. I repress those thoughts out of my head, as I get ready to babysit five-month old son, Michael, every Friday. But when I got there he was already asleep, so I sat down on the sofa and turned the TV on. After a while, my phone vibrated in my hand and it was a text from Christian, my boyfriend. >Hey baby. Miss you. Wanna hang? *Can’t Babysitting. >Ok. How about a pic? Suddenly, the baby started to cry upstairs, so I quickly snapped a picture and sent it to him. By the time, I had gotten upstairs, Henry had stopped crying, and had fallen asleep again so I let him be and went back downstairs. Only to find that I had three new messages and 3 missed calls from Christian. I called him as fast as I could, puzzled. “Elena! Thank God you’re alright! Who the hell is that guy?! Is this supposed to be some joke? Because it really isn’t funny.” I was still confused. “What guy are you talking about? I’m here alone. There is no guy.” “In your picture. You didn’t see?” “What?” I put Christian on hold, and then went to my pictures. Scanning the recent picture I had just taken earlier made me ... ... middle of paper ... ... suddenly, his head whipped around to the corner of the room. “But daddy!” he said, in a childish tone. He flinched. “Okay, daddy I won’t,” Christian grabbed me forcefully, and carried me onto the bed. Pulling out ropes from the floor, he tied both of my hands to the metal railing of the bed. ** I don’t know how long I lay there, when Christian return. “Get up,” he growled, unshackling my wrists and tossing me roughly over his shoulder. I winced as my bruised ribs were hit again. “Time for your next test.” “Remember the time you told me you hated needles?” he asked me, coming over to where I lay, and resting the bin on my stomach. “You made me come to the doctor’s office with you, to hold your hand, because you were afraid.” I stayed quiet and watched as he pulled out a large syringe from the bin. “To be afraid is to be weak, and we can’t have that.”
“I was all bandaged up. But they had told him about it… ‘have given more than your life.’ What a speech!”
“Stop it.” Maison snapped, anger and fear pushing all their other emotions to the side. He was acting as if they were was a small, helpless, naïve creature, which Maison had always hated. There was also the fear that he would decide that they shouldn’t be with him anymore and they couldn’t deal with that.
He yanked to one side, and then the other, bringing out the tears. I squeezed my mom’s hand as it continued. I struggled and moaned but it wouldn't stop. I cried like a maniac for the pain to stop.
Before I could even get one step on the wooden stairs he grabbed me by the wrist and yelled,” You should not have done that little boy.”
I immediately rushed to the hospital to see if god had spared my Jacks. I was so confused about everything. I prayed over and over again that I wouldn’t hear the worst. My stomach was in knots, I felt like I was going to throw up at anytime. I drove with a heavy heart. If she was okay and I could get her back, I planned to redeem myself and spend the rest of my life with her. I debated whether or not I should tell her about cheating on her after the fight but I didn’t want to hurt her more. I’d have to think about it. As I walked in the building, there was a nurse in the entrance talking. I overheard her talking about a woman who was in an accident and I thought she was referring to Jackie but then she said the baby would be fine. I knew then, it wasn’t Jacks. I then approached the receptionist in hopes that she would tell me what I needed to hear.
He gathered me to him and I held to the protective circle of his arms, feeling the warmth of his body, and listened to the three special words he whispered in my ears. When was the last time Wesley had told me that he loved me? I couldn’t remember that far back. I knew
Wendy cried more with recognition of her father’s impatience. Her tongue fumbled to find her words. “I … it’s the voices… I … I heard the whispers daddy.” She said, spitting the words out.
"Ana, we are here." Christian whispers into my ear as he carries me into the lobby and into the lift. "You fell asleep, you looked so sweet and I didn't have the heart to wake you up." He smiles and I nuzzle into his neck. He smells divine and being around him is making the trace of the dream disappear.
The person behind him was exposed, holding a bloody pocket knife and that damn black spiral notebook. Miranda. I screamed, and students looked over at me, wondering what the commotion was about. Miranda stuffed the pocket knife in her notebook, keeping her eyes on me, and then she walked away, covering a blood stain on her dress with her
“Oh-oh god!” He choked, grabbing Ivan to look into his eyes. “D-don’t you understand, I’ll-I’ll die w-without you. Please. You can’t just...go!” Ivan’s hand was still warm on his face, oh so warm.
"Selena Gibson" the nurse called out after opening the closed door. I stood up and quickly moved forward toward the nurse. Stepping through the door I was ask to turn to the right and go down the hallway. Walking down the long stretch dragging my feet along the way I was scared to find out what the doctor was going to say. Turning to the left the room looked impersonal and cold. I was asked to seat in the chair and wait till the doctor came in with the results.
“Conner, get a hold of yourself and Ethan take deep breaths or you’re going to faint,” I said “And quit chewing your fingernails or you’ll have stubs instead!” I shouted to no avail.
“My head and stomach hurt. I think I need to lay down for a little bit.”I explained to her.
I stared in horror at the fearsome needle taunting me to challenge its glinting tip. I closed my eyes, prayed with every cell in my body for the pain to be minimal, and grimaced as she expertly twirled the needle between her fingers and then slid it through my flesh in one fluid motion.
couldn't drift off. It was no use. I turned on my lamp and stood up.