The letters came two weeks apart. I laughed at the first one, set it on fire and never thought of it again. The second one was a little more serious. It had a whole 'I know what you did last summer' feeling to it, except this one had nothing to do with what I did last summer. "I know all about you. I can out you. You don't seem the type who'd want that. Expect another letter." My eyebrows raised a little when I noticed the fine print on the bottom. "Oh, and this time, try not to set anything on fire."
The urge to laugh was long gone, someone wanted to out me, though I had no idea what that outing exactly meant. I came out of the closet a long time ago and I couldn't think of anything else I wouldn't want the whole world to know. I glanced at the paper again and wondered how this person knew I set the first letter on fire when it hit me. I was being watched.
I ran to the windows and closed every curtain in the house. I felt sick. I was trying to think who could do this. The old ouple on the other side of the street didn't seem like the type to do this. I didn't want to take a peek through the window in case some black car would be parked along the curbe with two men in dark suits and sunglasses and perhaps a gun in their tight jackets.
My heart was pounding faster and faster and I didn't think I would get any sleep, but when I went to lay down I must have fallen asleep in an instant, as I woke up several hours later feeling fully rested. When I got dressed and walked downstairs I got goosebumps. There was a letter on the table, addressed to me. Someone had been in my house, when I was sound asleep.
My hands trembled as I opened the envelop. "You're almost cute when you're asleep. You can go back upstairs, change your outfit, I put one aside in your bathroom, I'm suprised you haven't seen it yet. You will drive to the hotel, this isn't such a big town, you'll know which one to go to. Go to the reception, there is a reservation on the name Robyn DeCradle. You will go to the room, it's on the 7th floor, you will find a blindfold on the bed, obviously you're going to wear it and you're going to sit on the bed and wait for me to come in."
I choked. I looked for a fine print on the bottom of the letter but found none. I was flabbergasted to say the least. I was in turmoil on what to do. Should I go? What would happen if I didn't. I had work to do. Who was this person anyway?!
I walked back up the stairs, it wouldn't hurt to see what this person had picked out for me, even though I was freaking out that someone had been in my house. On the bathroom, neatly stacked next to towels lay a skirt, a blouse and a pair of boots. No underwear, no bra. I slipped out of my clothing, to afraid of what would happen if I didn't show up. This person had watch me sleep, perhaps next time they'd watch a knife slit my throat.
Once dressed, I got in my car and drove to the hotel. I was weak on my feet, trembling, scared to death when I was asked the clerk for the key and even more shocked when he smirked at me and handed me the keycard. "Enjoy your stay!"
As I stepped into the elevator my heart was pounding, I tucked my blouse deeper into my skirt and when I heard the ding of the elevator I nearly had a heartattack.
I slowly walked to the room, praying that the keycard wouldn't work, but the door popped open within a second. As I closed the door, I leaned against and took a few deep breaths. Should I keep my phone with me, should I call the police? I glanced over at the bed and saw the blindfold.
A strange sensation shot through my body and I cursed myself for getting aroused. I couldn't find a suitable place for my phone, so I just stuffed it under the bed, hoping I could reach it in time in case some maniac came through that door.
I slipped the blindfold over my head as I sat down on the bed and waited, waited and waited. What seemed like hours probably only took a few minutes. I could hear the soft beep of the door, as it unlocked, opened, and fell in it's lock again. I wanted to rip the blindfold of my head, but was too scared to move. I heard heels. A woman? The clicking stopped a few inches from me and a finger traced down my collarbone as I heard a soft voice speak, "Hello slut."
That voice. Where had I heard that before?
To be continued..
0 comments:
Post a Comment