Peep of Light

Chapter Two

Camilla's POV

My feet remained rooted to the wooden floor. Sweat trickled down my back, the large white shirt clinging to my skin. My breathing was laboured as my ears picked up the sounds of footsteps climbing the stairs.

What could be more chilling than an intruder in my house? My mother’s voice.

My heart plummeted into the icy depths of my stomach. But how could that be? My mother was long dead. Or so I thought.

My feet shuffled backward. Maybe if I leaned against the wall—but no, my body was just a few breaths away from falling through the window.

“Now get out of there, young lady!” the voice reprimanded again. The door rattled and twisted, and before long, she walked in.

My tense body visibly relaxed as I took in the brilliant smile of my aunt, Yasmine. An exact replica of my mother, it was no surprise she had the same voice.

“Aunt Yasmine!" My eyes crinkled, and a wide grin spread across my face, masking the stack of fear and dread I’d felt just moments before.

I ran into her embrace with lightning speed, taking in her scent, which wasn’t quite like Mom’s. She looked like Mom, but she wasn’t Mom, and the bitter realization wrung its way around my throat.

I took in a deep breath, burying these thoughts. At least her scent calmed me a little because she reminded me of Mom.

I noticed the grey hair that was beginning to make its appearance on her hair.

The black hair could not hide them all. Mama would have had gray hair too. The heart-wrenching pain that dragged my heart down, had me taking in a sharp breath. It sounded like I was in pain.

“‘Are you okay?’ Yasmine held my face in her hands as her eyes searched for signs of pain and distress.

"I’m fine," I lied, holding her hands and gently bringing them down from my face. She looked at me, her worry evident in her frown. She wanted to say something, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

Just as she was about to speak, the sharp ringing of the bell rang throughout the whole house.

“I’ll get it," I chimed, already making my way out of the room. The sound of the squeaky staircase echoed through the house, a telltale sign of how badly it needed renovations. But I couldn’t bear to make those changes.

"Mi amor, when will you learn to do your dishes?" she yelled from the kitchen, her thick Italian accent coloring her words.. I could picture her standing in the heart of the kitchen with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the piled-up dishes.”

“Till Jesus comes," I chirped, without a bout of giggles escaping my lips as I made my way to the door. It was a fine morning today and I’d managed to bury what had happened last night.

It was good to be normal again.

Behind the door stood a man in an immaculate suit with permed hair and a shiny Gucci watch. He looked perfectly out of place on my doorstep.

“What can I do for you?" I asked, scrutinizing him. My hands were folded across my midpoint, and the sun shone perfectly on his gelled hair. He was definitely in the wrong place.

Yes, I was scrutinizing him, but that’s what everyone does, even if they denied it.

“I’m here to talk to you about your property," he said, his tall build overshadowing my 5’4” frame. He didn’t greet me or introduce himself, going straight to the point. What a rude man. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, and his confused look was priceless.

"We sent you a mail asking to buy your property, but we haven’t received any reply," he said.

“At the mention of the mail, I walked up to the mailbox and opened it. Like Camilla, it was empty. "Hmm, I must’ve missed it," I lied, feigning ignorance.

I didn’t receive anything I thought, scrunching up my eyebrows in confusion as I walked to him. His expression was one of shock at hearing my reply, but he quickly recomposed his features.

“Come in,” I said, opening the door wider to accommodate his huge body. He nodded gratefully and walked inside, his size making the large sitting room seem smaller.

This man was huge. And I’d just allowed a total stranger into my house. When you’ve been stalked for a long period of time without any hope of catching the culprit, maybe you lose your sense of security, like I had.

Or maybe this man was my stalker.

Maybe I’d just let the stalker into my house, into my safe place.

Maybe he was the one sitting on my couch, while baring my soul open.

What do you guys think? Is he the stalker?

Please do not be stingy with your votes and comments, I like reading your thoughts😊