Emily-Tricked by technologyMature


I'm not really shopping. I'm meeting with an architect about building the baby room.

David went into work and I met with three architects before I settled to work with the third. That took about two hours, I brought the paperwork with me about my house and showed it, to all three, letting them know that I wanted to fix up the bathrooms and create a nursery. They showed me the bathrooms they worked on and I chose two designs for each. They already have all the measurements. We also agreed that they would go check out the house tomorrow and create a proper estimate for me. Not worried too much because I can easily pay their amounts.

Then, I go shopping. I decide that we can't know the sex of the baby this soon so I will buy little shoes of orange and purple color. The kid is going to be spoiled and will have everything that Jess and I missed out on. I also bought a teddy bear; no kid in America goes without one. The baby store was big and I took a catalog of items for the nursery that I would show Jess later. 

Around 3:00 PM, I receive a call from our house line. We hardly use it, but when our cell phone battery runs out, the house phone is good for emergencies. Jess may be home.

“Jess?” I asked.

Em…Em….Em?” Jess said and I raise an eyebrow.

“Jess spill, what are you doing home? Is Tyler with you?” I asked.

I’m at the house, Em…Em…I’m feeling sick,” Jess said.

“Don’t go anywhere, lock all doors, I’ll be right there," I said. 

Em hold me, hold me, Em,” Jess said and hangs up.

I run to my car and drop the stuff into the trunk. I start driving and cursing at the red lights. When I get home, I see that the living room lights are on. Jess is downstairs.

I leave my stuff in the car and move fast to the house.

I enter the house and call out, “Jess?”

Em,” I heard from the kitchen.

I run into the kitchen and look around, she's not here, but the light blinks on the house phone. I press play.

Em…Em…I’m at the house……..Em…Em.

I don’t continue listening. It was a set up.

“How do you like recorded Jessica?” Jim said behind me.

I quickly turn around and glare at him.

“How did you get in here?” I asked.

“I learned in jail how to cut the right wire in an alarm system. I also remembered that cell phones are good for recording things. I got lucky, after you left, Jessica was talking with Tyler. So I recorded bits of the conversation,” Jim said and my eyes go wide at hearing how he did it. 

“Jim, you need help, probably psychological. Let me help you,” I said and start moving around the kitchen counter. He follows me with a panther's grace.

“I don’t need help. You do,” he said and jumps to grab me.

I jump back but not fast enough. His hand grabs a hold of mine and I start kicking and screaming and trying to get away.

“Scream all you want, Emily. All of your neighbors are at work,” he said as he pulls me in to him and then knees me in the stomach.

I cough. I'm becoming weak, but I'm not giving up.

He takes out a knife.

“I will return the favor.” Then he pushes me against the counter and stabs my leg. “I hope you have a high tolerance for pain.” He twists the knife and I scream louder.

I was an idiot to come home. I should have called her cell. I should have called David.

Jim lets me go and moves away, watching my blood fall to the floor. I slide down and wince from pain.

“How long do you think that you will feel pain for, if I stab you through your heart, Em?” He asked.

I find my knife in my jeans and flip it open in front him. “How about, who's first? The one that gets stabbed counts the seconds till dying breath.”

I can feel bruises forming on my leg around the knife wound, my stomach and my arms. I'm going to feel this in the morning.

“Deal,” Jim said and attacks me.

We dance for a while and trying to stab each other in the heart. I get cuts on my arms and so does he.

Jim ends up catching me and holds the knife at my heart. “Start counting.”

“You first,” I responded and drop my knife to the floor.

He looks down not understanding why I gave up my weapon.

While he's pondering, I hit the bottom of his hand. The knife becomes loose. Then I turn the knife pointed at him and push the knife into his body. I miss the heart but he starts bleeding and falls to the floor. I sprint away and find my cell phone. I call the police and explain what happened.

Jim does not count to his death.

The End

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