On my way back home from a usual four mile run, I notice a piece of paper stained with red ink, allowing my nosy self to humble my indifference. I nestle the paper between my forefingers and thumb. Leisurely I unfold the slip, and almost instantly throw it away, a petrified scream clawing its way out of my throat. The words ‘don’t leave’ were clumsily scrawled on the page in BLOOD.
The panic flooded fibers in my body calm down, the adrenaline once consuming my body like a wildfire gets dowsed by the cerebral judgment to ignore the event. Once I reach home, I lock away the freshly witnessed horror, and relish the taste of freshly brewed coffee, gradually falling asleep.
The arms of sunlight engulf me in a cozy hug as I get ready for work.
When I enter the opulent establishment, my assistant Riley scampers towards me, a huge bouquet of my favorite lilies in her hand and a huge smile on her face.
“These came in for you today, Ms. Carter,” she chirps excitedly, carefully placing the white flowers in my hand.
“Thank you Riley,” I tell her politely.
As a fashion designer I get innumerous number of bouquets but….. this- this had a folded piece of paper stained with red ink. My face turns white as I see my fingertips turn crimson. ‘I’m waiting ☺’. Memories of the previous night flood back and I immediately head home.
I hastily open the lock, the blood from my fingers coloring the door knob.
“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH” a shrill cry erupts, as a sleek knife lands just inches away from my face.
“Shhh… I told you I was waiting, why so surprised princess?” says the crack head, who was just about to kill me.
Wait! Princess? Oh my god! Its-its Michael!
“I knew you would remember me despite the scars, but hey- hey don’t worry, these aren’t my fault, I just wanted to send you something personal,” Michael continues, a maniac smile on his face.
“SO YOU SENT ME NOTES IN BLOOD! ARE YOU FRIGGING CRAZY! YOU BLOODY PSYCOPATH,” I shriek at the top of my lungs, turning around ready to run away. But his hands wrap around another knife, which he drives straight through my hand. He laughs lunatically while an agonizing pain takes over me, blood dripping on my white carpet.
“I am so sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to leave. I love you so much,” He rambles on and on, guilt prominent on his face.
“You better stay away from me Michael,” I whimper, tears streaming down my face.
“I love someone else and you know that, please just go home,” I beg him desperately, fear resonating in every word of mine.
“Well if you are not mine, then you are nobody’s. See you on the other side, princess. Sweet dreams,” he whispers sharply, the cold metal of the knife piercing straight through my heart!
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