OLIVIA

2

I sighed as I dropped my bag and walked into my childhood home.

I thought it would have been demolished or sold by now but it wasn't. There were a lot of cobwebs and dust and it felt like no one had been there since the murder. I had a lot to do if I wanted to get this place in shape. I took off my jacket, tied it on my waist and got started.

Seven hours later, I had finished cleaning the living room, kitchen and my room. The blood of my stepfather was dried up on the wall. I felt like throwing up.

The fact is, I'm not the least bit remorseful of the fact that I killed him, he deserved it. He beat my mother till he killed her and did things to me, things that still haunt me till now.

I was carrying a trash bag out when I spotted something on the small coffee table. It was a phone, it looked new, like it someone had dropped it there less than a minute ago. That didn't make any sense because I had just cleaned the coffee table a few minutes before.

My heart immediately started pounding against my chest and I almost jumped out of my skin when someone spoke from the phone.

"Olivia Blunt?" The person asked.

"Huh?" I was startled and was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Eventually, I asked, "Who is this and how did you get into my house?" The voice sounded familiar but I couldn't figure out where I'd heard it before.

"That doesn't matter, what matters is that you listen to everything I'm about to tell you and do exactly as I say." As the voice spoke, I was walking to my jacket on the kitchen island. There was a gun in it that I had stolen from one of the officers in prison.

"I'm listening" I said as I put the phone on speaker, placing it on the island and cocking the gun.

"Drop the gun." It commanded. I froze because now the voice was not coming from the phone but from behind me. I felt the tip of a gun on the back of my head and I closed my eyes.

"Drop the gun" it said, slowly.

"I'll shoot you before you even think of pulling the trigger so I'd advice you to put your gun down" I said, sounding intimidating. The person chuckled and slowly dropped their gun. I turned around and saw a man.

He looked rather familiar but, where I had seen him before I couldn't remember.  He had blonde hair and dark green eyes, he also had a long beard that looked unkempt. He had a bandana tied on his head and his clothes were torn. He was huge and looked like biker. He smelt of weed and alcohol, the odour made feel nauseous. I hated it.

"Who are you?" I asked, about to lose my shit.

"You really don't remember me?" He asked.

"No" I really wanted to shoot this guy.

"I heard that you were outta jail." He said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Oh God, who is this guy and why is he trying to talk to me?

I was uncomfortable but I didn't let him see that. He looked like a psycho and I was doing the best I could to be careful.

"Who did you hear that from?" I didn't have any friends or family, at least not that I knew of and I didn't want to have any friends. People bring problems. My life was already bad enough.

"Doesn't matter" he said simply. " I see you've started cleaning." He looked at me and our eyes locked. "Yeah" I said.

I sighed then, "Well, to bad you have to get out now, I was really looking forward to knowing you" I said, sarcasm literally dripping from my tone. I guess he didn't notice, either that or he ignored it because he said,

"I don't have to" his eyes were full of hope I didn't care. "Oh but you do" my voice was as cold and firm as I could make it. "Now" I added. He looked at me as if with sadness and pride in his eyes which just made me more confused and uncomfortable. Whoever this man was, he was certainly giving me this weird feeling.

He sighed in defeat, turned on his heel and walked away. I followed him to the front door and then he paused and said, "Olivia, be a good girl okay?" He opened the door and walked out.

Olivia, be a good girl okay? I repeated what he said to me over and over again in my head. Why did that statement sound so familiar?