The Game

Chapter Four

Author's Note: So, I haven't been updating this as much as I want to. But, I have a goal to complete this book by January next year! So, please, keep reading. I'd hate to a have thought my followers feel abandoned. I'm back, and staying.

Zain Woodrow, Author

Dragging her feet down the drive, Tatum sleepily fell toward the mail box, her gut cut open like a huge smile. She breathed as quickly as possible, the dark man only feet away. She tried to scream, but nothing short of a whisper came out of her bleeding mouth. The killer grunted, turning her over, and lunging at her with a huge fucking knife. The cold air pierced, creating a whistling sound as the knife hit her gut once more.

She awoke with a jerk, alas – only a dream. A horrible, mind fuck of a dream. And had she not awoken in time, rumour has it – she would've died in real life. Bullshit. She knew it, but when kids talk at All Saints High School, they spoke. Only a short minute after she awoke, Jillian made a short snore. Tatum tried as much as possible to see her friend in the dark, squinting through crusted sleepy eyes.
Wash your face, Tay...was just a dream, she thought, pulling back the blanket and walking toward the en-suit bathroom. Scratching through her hair, it's wiry strands stood up as though she'd been electrocuted. Peering over the basin, she turned on the tap and looked into the mirror.  She rolled her eyes at the sight of her face, she looked like a dropped pie, her make-up smeared on her pillow, the other half down her neck. Had she rolled in her sleep a little more, she'd look like Two Face from the Batman comics. DC characters aside, she rand her hands under the faucet, splashing water up on her face. Relieved by the cold splash, she reached for a hand towel by the tub. Wiping her face dry. Beyond the bathroom door was a buzzing, it wasn't tinnitus, it wasn't something naughty Jillian kept in her drawer. Tatum quickly turned off the water and started back to the bedroom, she followed a white light hidden under her pillow. Her phone, it rang. No Caller ID it read, she sighed.
'God, damn it Ma. I packed clean underwear.' She mumbled, swiping across the screen, placing the cold surface to her ear. 'Hello?'
The person on the other end breathed, they breathed heavily. 'You have made a terrible mistake.' It rasped, Tatum's heart sank. The voice from before. It was that creep from before!
'Who is this?'
No response, just breathing.
'Listen, you creep --'
'No, you shut up and listen, you fucking whore!' Rasped the voice, hoarse and broodingly strong. Tatum's heart sank.
'Who is this?'
'That depends..'
'On what?' She asked, wishing she hadn't.
'You know, Tatum, you're a hard fact to follow.' Said the voice, 'Men are infected with lust for you, women adore you. But in the light of truth, you're a cock teaser who likes to flaunt her shit all around town.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.' Tatum shook in her voice, Jillian rolled over and opened her eyes, gently rubbing them. 'You have me mistaken for someone else.'
'Oh, you're so modest!' The voice replied sarcastically, 'Did you think you could just get away with being such a mean little whore?'
'Tatum, it's 4 a.m.' Jillian sighed. Tatum put her finger to her mouth and pressed the speaker phone button.
'Oh, Jillian, wakey-wakey my little fakey-skanky.' The voice almost giggled, he was amused. Jillian smiled and grabbed the phone.
'Ooh, so you know who I am?' She smiled, 'Listen Billy, stalking isn't seen as cute to any woman, ever hear of that guy who stalked Björk?'
'Billy couldn't make it to the phone tonight, he had a hot date with the fishes.' The man remarked, Jillian smiled.
'Uh, did he? I guess that means he won't be bothering us any more.' She said, looking at the screen and placing her thumb on the END CALL selection. She giggled and placed the phone down. Tatum watched in disgust.
'Jillian, that was stupid!'
'What are you talking about, I know Billy's voice anywhere, and that was his Clint Eastwood impression.'
The phone lit up, the screen revealed a message from UNKNOWN.
'I'll cut you in half, right down the middle - forehead to cunt.' Tatum read.
'Gross, turn your phone off and try to get some sleep.' Jillian said, rolling over, placing the covers over her face. Tatum sat there in fright, no way could she just turn her phone off and sleep. That was out of the question. Perhaps if she cleared her mind with a cigarette, she'd meant to quit but couldn't find the time to. Every drag made shit clearer, and without it she saw life cloudy and bane. Since her father left for Indiana in the winter, and her mother started embroidery classes, Tatum had the whole place to herself. After school, she found herself napping more, every afternoon at four thirty. Just after The Bold and The Beautiful re-run had finished on the local affiliate. Those times she napped made it harder for her to eat. The ice cream she pulled out of the freezer melted in the bowl she'd spooned it into. It's milky substance would ooze down her chin as she felt herself only wanting to vomit, rather than swallow.