Hey guys this chapter is kinda gruesome so if you want skip it, it's ok. It's rated mature mostly for gore.
"Hello?" I whisper into the mouthpiece of the phone. Do you know it is very hard to type and speak at the same time. Especially when you are shaking with fear at the thought of your murderer being ont he phone with you.
"Hey Hun! I should be coming home soon. How are you doing?"
I light out a sigh, and my feeling of relief is almost palpable. "Hi mom, I'm fine, just on MSN you know."
"Oh hunny, you little social butterfly. I should be home in about half an hour. I'll see you then ok?"
"Yeah mom, see you then." As I put the phone back on it's holder. I realize what I have just agreed to. Half an hour is enough time for a psychopath to come into my home and torture me if he likes. You know, pull out my fingernail one at a time or even my teeth. I can almost hear him laughing as my blood soaks the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip.
It's enough time for him to even rape me if he wants to. Tie me down. There won't be enough time for him to get his 'full' though. I hope he won't be a rapist, no need in someone else getting hurt.
Or maybe I'll be lucky. Maybe he'll do it quick and fast. ONe bullet through the heart and one through the head while I'm not looking, so I don't even know it's coming. Maybe.
I shiver as these scenarios run through my head. It all happened in the period of about three seconds, but it was enough to scare me shitless. I get up and go to the washroom, taking my laptop with me. I sit down on the cold tile floor, with the fan and light on and the door locked. It's the only door in the house that locks, and it's my safe haven.
I lean with my back against the wall as I write to you. My eyes feel heavy as I type, my fingers flying over the keys. I was never good at typing until I got IM. Then it was like I had a gift. Of course I'm no better than the average typer, but I'm ok. My blinks become longer and longer as the minutes pass by. My eye lids feel like magnets, attracted to each other by some invisible force. They pull together once more, and it takes all my strength to pull them back open. I shake my head and debate throwing some water on my face, just so that I can talk to you a little longer, but the trip to the sink is too far. They shut closed again, and I have no strength.
I drift off to sleep.