Devoted To You || Gilbert Blythe

XXIV

~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Fear. A noun. A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
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Warning: ⚠️ Kinda scary in multiple ways tbh

The sun is setting and I'm back on Gilbert's bed, a bundle of letters tied with a simple ribbon awaits me. I've been keeping every single one so that when I miss his greatly I can come back to these. The soft glow of the candle makes the room feel like a safe haven, and I begin to unfold the treasures of his handwritten notes. Each letter reveals a piece of his journey and a slice of his thoughts.

In one letter, he paints a vivid picture of a bustling marketplace in a foreign city, describing the vibrant colors and the enticing aroma of exotic spices. Another holds the simplicity of a quiet day, where he reflects on the beauty of nature and the simple joys that accompany it.

The familiarity in his handwriting makes his words feel like whispers, creating an intimacy that transcends the miles between us. I find myself lost in the tales of his adventures, feeling the textures of the places he describes and hearing the echoes of his laughter in the spaces between lines.

In one note, he expresses the ache of missing home, and in another, the excitement of discovering something new.

The simplicity of his words and the sincerity behind each letter create a comforting cocoon. As I reach the last one, I'm filled with gratitude for these handwritten glimpses into his world. The letters now lie beside me, a testament to the richness of our connection.

With the letters in hand, I settle back on the bed, surrounded by the echoes of his words. The rhythmic rustle of paper and the soothing cadence of his narratives blend into a lullaby.

***

A knock at the front door wakes me up. I must have fallen asleep for longer than I intended because it is a lot darker outside. I stand up and head for the door as the once soft knocks grow louder.

"I'm coming!" I call groggily.

I reach the front door, the lingering haze of sleep clouding my senses. The knocks, once gentle, have now transformed into urgent pounds, echoing through the quiet house. With a sense of unease settling in, I fumble to open the door, expecting a visitor or perhaps a neighbor in need.

As the door creaks open, the night air hits me, colder and more ominous than before. Before me stands a silhouette, barely visible in the dim light. I squint, trying to discern the features, but a sense of dread tightens my chest as recognition dawns.

It's Nate.

His presence sends a shiver down my spine, and the atmosphere shifts from tranquility to tension. The once familiar surroundings now feel alien, and I instinctively take a step back, an unsettling feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

Nate's gaze is intense, a sinister glint flickering in his eyes. Without a word, he steps forward, invading the threshold of the house. The air thickens with an unspoken threat as I find myself paralyzed by a growing sense of dread. I quickly slam the door shut but it is pushed open.

"I thought I made it clear, Ada," he sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "You can't escape what's coming."

"Get away from me!" I whimper.

"How could I stay away from a pretty face like yours?" Nate flashes me a devilish grin making my insides churn.

He takes a few steps toward me and I scream, "Don't come any closer!" He lunges at me, I run but I trip and fall onto the hardwood floor.

I try to stand but it's too late. He has his hands on me again. I try to fight back but he grabs my wrists and pins them to the ground. "I've gotcha now." There he hovers, staring at me with those eyes that have pierced my brain. That haunt me every day. His lips curl up before he lowers them onto my neck. I hate the feeling more than anything. I struggle but he bites my neck making me whimper. I feel his hands travel down and I do what I should've done before, I lift my knee with all the force I can muster. He groans loudly and falls off to the side.

I take my chance and run to the back bedroom, Gilbert's room. Surely he has some type of knife or gun in here. I lock the door behind me and start searching but every drawer is empty.

I hear a long bang on my door. "Let me in, Ada! I won't hurt you!" I panic and run for the window but I can't get it to open. "I just want to have some fun!" He pounds on the door even harder now.

He cannot get in here.

I go to the corner of the room and start pushing the dresser toward the door.

"Oh Ada Faye!" I whimper as his voice grows louder. "You can't hide in there forever." He taunts.

I get the dresser in front of the door and drop to the floor praying he isn't strong enough to get through.

The relentless pounding on the door echoes through the room. Sweat beads on my forehead as fear courses through me. I huddle in front of the door, breathless, hoping the dresser serves as an impenetrable barrier. His sinister words linger in the air, and I silently pray for safety.

"Ada, you can't escape me," his voice slithers through the cracks in the door. I clench my fists, desperately holding back tears.

"Why are you doing this?" I manage to choke out, my voice trembling.

"Fun, Ada, just a little fun," he chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. The dresser creaks under the pressure as he continues to assault the door.

"Leave me alone!" I shout, my words a feeble attempt to assert control over the scene unfolding.

He laughs, a chilling sound that reverberates in the confined space. "You can't hide forever, Ada Faye. Open the door, and we can play a game."

I stay silent, my breath catching in my throat, unwilling to give in to his sick game. The room feels like a prison, and I grasp onto the desperate hope that help will arrive before his twisted version of "fun" becomes a reality.

The pounding becomes louder and louder until the dresser gives way and I get pushed across the room by the impact. My skin scrapes across the wooden floors. Pain rises and I groan as I look up.

All I see is his tall dark figure coming back to get me.