Be careful what you wish for

Sarah stabbed at the worn keys of her laptop with irritation; she’d sent Martin sixteen messages, since he’d failed to turn up for their first meeting, last Sunday.

She’d met him in an online chat room, and they had instantly hit it off, to the extent that they had chatted right through the night, her alarm clocks frantic buzzing alerting her to the fact that she had failed to sleep, and forcing her to dash off a hurried goodbye, so she could shower and prepare for work.

 After that first night they’d laughed and joked their way through six months, chatting each day for at least a couple of hours.

He had been desperate to meet, but she’d held back, new to the whole online romance she was cautious to move on to a face to face meeting. However, as her feelings for him grew, she’d decided to bite the bullet, and arranged to meet him in a public place not far from her home.

She’d arrived at the small cafe, with its pretty little tables and friendly staff early, clutching her bag to her chest in nervous anticipation, and there she had sat, for two hours, sipping hot cups of coffee and gazing out at the street with a gradually growing sense of disappointment.

The staff were sympathetic, but she couldn’t help wishing, that she’d kept her mouth shut about her reason’s for being there, at least then she could have slinked away, seeming nothing more than a casual loiterer, passing a little time before a next appointment.

“Something must have come up, he’s a very busy man,” she’d lied, “He’s always forgetting to charge his phone, and muddling up his dates, I’m sure he’ll call later and explain.”

But he didn’t call later, in fact he didn’t call at all, and so she was left sending email after email, ranging from concern, to angry and everything in between.

Yet as hard as she tried she could not shake the affection she still felt for him, and struggled to truly believe that he would simply choose to ignore her, and so she convinced herself that he was hurt, laying in a coma somewhere, or perhaps even dead.

It was only when she began searching her memory, for anything that might help her trace him, that she realised how little she truly knew about him, he’d never talked of his friends, never talked of his home, job or family, and she’d never asked, there talks had always been about her, and it was only the most mundane details he’d shared of his own existence.  

She didn’t even know his phone number. She’d handed over hers when they’d agreed to meet, and he’d promised to text her with his, but he never had.

Dejected and heartbroken, she gave up on Martin, and forced herself to move on with her life as best she could, although she still checked her email’s regularly, just encase.

                

*

He stood outside her house, a smile on his face, as he watched her through the window, drowning her sorrows with a small pot of ice-cream. If only she’d known the real reason he had been so keen to meet her.

Still it had all gone to plan so far and his concerns that Sarah would never really meet him, had proved unfounded. Still he’d been pleasantly surprised to see her walk into the cafe last Sunday, even more so when she glanced around calmly before moving to a free table.

Of course he’d given her a false description of himself, young, handsome, fair haired, blue eyed, everything he wasn’t.

Two hours it took for her to leave. He’d had to go and wait on a bench down the road, afraid that if he remained in the cafe to long, he’d draw attention to himself.

But when she came out, looking dejected and down, she’d done just as he’d hoped, slowly moving along the streets, to lost in her own misery to notice the large man, slowly following behind her, whilst she unknowingly led him right to her home.

 He’d waited a while after she’d entered, watching her moving around inside, smiling happily to himself, pleased with his day’s work, and his newest catch, and as he watched her he reminded himself of her words, of her longing for change and excitement.

Now, almost a week later he was about to give her that change, although he suspected it would not be as exciting for her as it was for him, still it had to be done, he’d never be able to move on, if he didn’t follow through, and so stepping out of the shadows, he slowly made his way towards her front door, his hand reaching slowly into his jacket pocket, a manic smile spreading across his face, as that old familiar rush of adrenalin cursed through his veins. 

The End

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