What does it say this time? The last few notes have been sweet love letters and all that, but ever since Anthony saved me, the notes became darker. Scary.
I open the note and read it. It read:
I want you. I want to be with you for now and forever. Leave the child and be with me. I’ll kill you both if you don’t surrender yourself to me. I’ll slit your throat if I don’t have you right now.
I hold the note, my eyes wide with fear. He wants to kill me . . . he wants to kill me, all because I chose Anthony? I crumble the note, turn on the fire of the stove, and burn the note.
Get away from me . . . we have to leave. We have to get away from this cabin. We’ll have to move. Hide away from everything.
That’s when I hear the door slam. I gasp and look towards the door.
No answer. I'm afraid to go to the door, my instincts telling me to run. But no one else knows where I live except Anthony and Michael. How do I know it’s just the wind?
I take a step and look around the corner. No one there. I look up the stairs to see if someone ran up the stairs while I wasn’t looking. I tell myself it was the wind, turn around, and see a large body just behind me.
I scream in terror and jump back. I see who it is; it's George, the Nordstrom owner. I take in a breath and press my hand against my heart, feeling it beat fast. “Geez, George. You scared me. How can I help you?” I heave, taking in another breath to calm myself down.
George only keeps his gaze on me. As silent as the night in the mountains. He has a look of slight anger. Something's wrong. He isn’t acting like himself. Like something inside of him that was born, a monster maybe.
He takes a step to me, grabs my wrist, making me jump, and pull me in closer to him. “No!” I scream and push him away. He doesn’t fight me; he releases me and stares at me, horrified if he hurt me. The scare made the baby jump. I can feel its fear. Its highly developed instincts telling itself something is wrong.
It's telling itself that I'm in danger. Telling me I'm in danger.
“I love you, April,” George says to me. “I’ve been so good to you since I first saw you four years ago. I’ve treated you the way you always wanted to be treated, normal. You’ve always wanted to be normal, didn’t you?” George asks me, sounding less and less like him and more like a desperate crazy person.
“You knew?” I ask, backing away from me. “You knew I was a freak?” Calm yourself April. But I can’t . . . my hands are trembling. Something is wrong. The baby can feel it, even though it isn’t dealing with what I'm doing.
“You’re not a freak, April. You’re just gifted. You’ve been given a gift from the stars,” he says approaching me.
“Stars my ass! I was miserable if you even noticed!” I snarl. “If you knew that I had sixth sense, then you should have seen how frightened I was!”
“Please . . . April. I want to help you. I can help release you from your ability,” he says and raises a hand towards me.
How did he know? How did he know there was a way to help me? How did he know about my sixth sense?
I look back at when I met him. Did I leave out a hint that I had sixth sense? Did I show something was wrong with me? I then remember the warehouse. All the cannibals and vampires that surrounded me. The voice that protested against Constantine to come save me then came back to me. I remember why it sounded familiar.
I stare at him in horror. “You’re a cannibal . . .” I back away, taking bigger steps around the kitchen table. “You’re a cannibal . . . you want to kill me that kind of way, don’t you!?” I yell.
My heart is beating so fast that I can’t breathe. The pain is reaching the baby, squirming inside my stomach as I think of my escape.
“No, April. I want to help you. I can save you from the horror you ran away from for years,” he says to me softly, protectively. But I see the demon inside him.
“I’ve already been saved! Anthony saved me! I don’t see anymore ghosts after Anthony and I had sex!” I snap at him. I have the urge to protect the baby now. I hold onto my stomach and stumble when my heel hit the leg of one of the chairs.
George’s eyes travel to my stomach and sees how it looks a lot bigger than the last time he saw me through the mask at the warehouse not even a month ago. His eyes grow wider then looks towards me, furious and jealousy raging in his eyes. He obviously thought I gained weight at first, but not anymore. He now knows I’m pregnant.
“Did that vampire boy do that after the warehouse was set on fire?” he growls.
I swallow the urge to throw up and shake my head, taking smaller and cautious steps away from him.
He looks away, his eyes burning with fire, and bites his lip hard enough that I see blood spewing out.
The scent of blood came rushing from his lips, the aroma of blood intoxicating the entire room quickly. I gulp down and feel the baby kick after I smelled the blood. He looks back at me, angry.
“I’ve always loved you. I protected you from everything. I’ve even killed so many people to protect you from them hurting you. I knew that if you became too close to them, they’d hurt you eventually. I didn’t want them to taint that pure smile of yours,” he says under his rough breath.
“Wait . . . you’ve killed them? My friends?”
He nods. “Your bookstore owner friend, that red head little goodie two shoes, your vampire crush’s human life, all the classmates that have made you cry. They all died because they were too close to you or hurt you. Only I can have you,” he says.
Oh my god . . . he’s the one that's killing everyone. It wasn’t me the entire time I was in Washington. Did my bad karma stop before I got here? Was he greedy enough that he’d kill everyone I loved so he could have me?
“And to add to all the deaths. I’ve eaten their corpse,” he laughs. “If you open your arms to me, you can have them all in one. You can have all your dead loved ones with you the entire time. Most of them are inside me. Don’t you want them back?” he asks me.
“No!” I back farther with my arms stretched out to help convince myself that I have the power to push him away without even touching him.
The baby kicks again. It's listening . . . all the things that George is telling me, the baby can hear it all.
George stares down at my stomach again; he must have seen the baby kick at that time. “It’s that boy’s baby, isn’t it? That Anthony kid, right?” he asks, blood dripping from his lip.
I bite down on my lip, my hands trembling more viciously, palms sweaty. My instincts tell me to take out a knife and stab him, but I'm too far from the cabinet to the knives.
“ANSWER ME!” he yells and slams his fist into the table. “I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T ANSWER ME!”
I jump away and run away.
I run upstairs, my heart racing as fear is eating me alive. I run to my room and lock the door, taking in deep breaths to ease my heart, even though there is no point to it.
I know I'm going to die.
I hear George’s feet stomping up the stairs and then feel the vibration of his fist hitting the wood door. “April! Let me talk to you!” George demands.
“No! Leave me alone!” I scream. I back away from the door and run towards the window. His foot begins to kick the door; louder and louder, the sound becoming more violent.
I try to pull the window open, but it's stuck. I pull as hard as I can, but it won’t move. My heart is pulsing in my throat now, hard for me to breathe, horror entering my veins as my head imagines how my death is going to be like. Does he have a gun? Does he have a knife from the kitchen?
I shake the image out of my head. I can’t die . . . I just can’t die. Not now that I have a reason for living longer. I can’t walk among the dead and leave Anthony behind. I can’t leave him . . . and I can’t die and bring our unborn child with me. I don’t want to leave him behind. I don’t want him to lose both of us.
Tears gathering and pours down my cheeks to my neck as I pull as hard as I can. The wood and his foot start to sound more violent and then I hear a crack.
I pause to look towards the door, only to see his foot through it and then his hand looking for the lock. My heart stops and I hesitate in pulling the window open. I give up and kick the window, shattering the glass into large, sharp fragments. I kick it again to kick the remaining glass fragments out of the window before pushing myself through the small window for my big escape.
I know I'm too big to fit through the window, but this is the only exit I have left.
He’s coming now. The lock snaps and I hear his feet walking towards me. My breathing becomes heavier and my heart is bursting out of my chest. I'm just about to throw my chest out before he grabs my elbow and pulls me back in the cabin. I fall to the glass covered ground and drag me across the floor by my hair.
“NO! LET GO!” I scream in terror.
The glass cut through my shirt and cut my skin from my back. I try to stop him by pressing my heels against the floor, only to make an agonizing squeaking sound with my converse. I then grab his hands and feel up to wrist before stabbing my fingernails into his skin. I press hard enough into his skin that I can feel blood running around my hands. It doesn’t seem to faze him.
“STOP! PLEASE!!” I beg.
He pulls me upwards, pulling hair out while he's at it and forcefully pushes me to the bed. I try to roll off from the side for my escape towards the door, but he's too fast. He takes my shoulders and presses me onto the bed, sits on my pelvis before wrapping his large hands around my neck and pushes.
I can’t breathe . . . I try to gasp in some air to last longer, but my air hole is blocked. I can’t breathe. I take his wrists and try to push him away, but that only make him push harder against my throat.
His eyes are insane, depressed, angry, and lustful. “If I can’t have you . . . no one can have you,” George says under his breath.
My hands tremble and is starting to become limp. The baby is starting to react, fighting for both of us. But it's too young. It can’t claw out of me to save me. The baby can’t help me. Only I can get myself and the baby out of this.
I slide my legs and bent my knees before trying to push him away, he doesn’t move. He feels like stone to me. Tears slide down to my ears, my head is wandering back to memory lane and images of Anthony flashes into my eyes.
“Anthony . . .” I whisper.
I take my weak hand, ball it into a fist, and punch George across the face.
Big mistake . . .
He takes one of his hands, takes the metal candle stand next to the bed, swings it, and hits my head.
I lose consciousness, but I can still think. My body can’t move anymore. I can’t breathe, but I know my body is still alive, for now. I want to wake up . . . wake up April.
I try to move my fingers, my toes, but I can’t remember where they are. Everything is black. I can’t see anything anymore. I feel hot blood run down my face and then feel a sharp pain in my chest.
Teeth sinking into my chest and feel the blood rushing out of my chest uncontrollably. My heart . . .
Last Day of Life
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