Curiosity kills the cat

173 3 0
                                    

Waking up in the middle of the night had become a habit for me, but this time I made sure to set the alarm to break this sleeping trance so that I could finally discover the secret. Someone is always watching me. I can hear the whispers about being near me, and the way it's affecting my mind is unendurable. The whispers are controlling me, and I am helpless like a newborn child, but it still thrills me. It is sort of like an addiction: bad for your health but unable to resist its charm. Not wanting to disturb any of my family members' slumber, I slowly paddled to the bottom of the stairs. It was dead silence; everyone was in a deep sleeping trance. I crept out of the house, wrapping myself in the shawl, and paused on the porch, resting my body after a long day of sneaking around the house. I saw the movement near the thick forest behind the streetlight. Taking a few deep breaths, I tore myself toward the shadow, mustering as much strength as I could from my frail body. After running for a couple of minutes, I found myself deep in the forest. I lost track of him, but the dark, spicy scent with a hint of musk still lingered in the spot where I am standing right now.

Returning home, I realize that tomorrow I am going to meet this mystery person and have this hunch—a pretty strong hunch. As I was getting ready for class, I twisted my long, dark red hair into a high ponytail and used Golden Essence mascara to enlarge my light brown eyes. For a finishing touch, I applied my signature color lip gloss, bombshell red. I wanted to look as good as I could, somewhat leaning toward being appealing in front of my stalker. I know I sound insane and need to be admitted to an asylum. Who signs up for stalkers? But trust me, this one is different.

I hurried to my class, where I bumped into a rock-hard body, but strong hands immediately steadied me. Before I could utter a word, the mouth-watering smell hit me. It was the same one that drove me insane last night. My curiosity was piqued, and I looked up to look at her face. It was the most handsome face, like a perfectly sculpted Greek god. Yummy is the only word attacking my brain. Those dark, penetrating green eyes were seeing deep into my soul. I knew that I had finally met my soulmate, for whom I had preserved my heart for a very long time. Rather than feeling happy, I was extremely pissed—not the reaction anyone wanted. After passing for so many years, he dared to come now. I pushed his hand away and glared up. He was smirking at my fuming expression.

Why the hell are you smiling at me? I was annoyed with his confident posture. He chuckled deeply. It was like someone poured honey on the caramel and served it on mouth-melting hot chocolate brownies. Stop! Don't go ga-ga on him now!

"Well, usually a person says thank you and exchanges pleasantries, but in your case it's different, so I guess you operate uniquely." He answered coolly, but laughter was shining in his amazing green eyes.

I was blushing deeply. I'm pretty sure my face has turned a bright tomato red. I mumbled thanks and escaped into my class, and I dared not look behind me at him.

Finding a good spot, I settled down on my seat and buried my face in the book. What's wrong with me? I rejected the love of my life, which I despised, but it is his fault that my life is now completely ruined and out of control. When I was eight years old, I prayed that I would only be with my man, but it didn't work that way, and I destroyed myself because of him. I sigh and begin the preparations for my class. While I was reading, someone slid beside me and made himself comfortable. I knew it was him due to his wonderful smell. God, I hate him to my very core. He didn't say anything; he just kept looking at my face, and in doing so, a wave of sadness came tumbling down and was buried deep in my heart.

I ignored him and focused on the teacher's voice, determined to get rid of him, but a glance wouldn't hurt. I sneaked a glance at him, which was a huge mistake as he was looking at me with a very serious look in his eyes, and his face was painted with an annoyed expression. I roll my eyes at him as he answers me with his signature smirk. The class bell rang loud and clear, which was my cue to escape from there. I hurried towards my part-time job, which I am eagerly waiting to begin, and had some quiet time to myself.

Someone was calling me. I think I saw the same green-eyed guy running toward me. But I flipped him, hurrying out towards the main exit of the school—away from him.

'Hey g, girl! Woah! Wait for me, please. Fins! " He was yelling at the top of his lungs to stop. I kept ignoring his call, but when he called me by my nickname, I instantly glued my feet to the floor and turned to look at him with a dumbfounded look. Sure, my face was resembling that of a fish at the moment as my mouth closed and then opened to say something. Yet I couldn't manage to conjure up a single word.

"Thank you for your time." Why are you running away from me? Did I offend in some manner? He sounded breathless but a little bit pissed. I went back to his question, looking suspiciously at him.

"How do you know my nickname?" No one is here. Who are you? "Why are you so determined to be my friend?" attacking with a barrage of questions, like a machine gun that never stopped firing.

"Safina, please don't run away." "Please, just for the time being." He asked me to close the space due to its proximity.

I tried to take a step back, but his body odor was intoxicating me. The pull happens to be strong and stubborn.

"No!" "Please tell me—" He cut my sentence in half by grabbing my hand, and the only thing I was good at was reacting to it. I ran to the library, where I work part-time after my school hours or during my free periods. I peered through the window, looking for him, but I couldn't find him.

I was shivering after the strange encounter with that man. How could I possibly know my nickname? Only my best friend Emily used to call me "Fins," and she moved to Scotland five years ago. Who is this handsome but annoying man?

Even if he is my true love, how does he know personal details about me? All these questions were bugging me. I kept myself occupied with the customer and occasionally read books.

I left work at 5 o'clock. heading home to catch up on some homework. Also on my mind when relaxing while doing my homework, of course, is watching TV series, which I will never miss.

It was late at night, and I knew I would be awakened by the same stranger again at night, so I took sleeping pills for beauty sleep. I'll tell you the truth: I don't have any strength now to search for missing answers.

The next day, I woke up early in the morning after sleeping like a baby. Leaving my bedroom, I walked downstairs towards the door to pick up the mail. I found that I had scored a job interview with one of the finest export car manufacturing companies. I was very thrilled. According to the letter, the interview will take place today at 2:30 p.m. I hurried to the Internet to check the details and educate myself about the interview.

I reached the Rollins Export Vehicle Company. It was a huge, sophisticated building located in a very peaceful and remote place. I went to the receptionist and asked to meet Mr. Rollins, but the blonde looked at me with a bored expression and asked me whether I had been appointed or not. Her attitude was pissing me off, so I replied to her, sarcastically enunciating each word, which could pass through her thick skull.

"Why do you think I am dressed up and have landed here, asking to meet a particular person?" I am sure I know that I am supposed to be at this place for an interview. Are you hoping for a spaceship to land on Earth and destroy us with its laser beam? I asked, giving her an irritated look to make her understand.

She didn't say anything. She might be thinking that I am crazy, but it worked; she pointed me in the direction of the interviewer's office. I swear that if I score a good position here, then I will fire her lazy, arrogant ass. I knocked on the door, and a reply came in, saying that I am crazy, but it worked; she pointed me in the direction of the interviewer's office. I swear that if I score a good position here, then I will fire her lazy, arrogant ass. I knocked on the door, and a reply came in. I was looking at my surroundings. I paid close attention to the office as I entered and parked in the middle. It was enormous and screamed money, but my appreciation vanished when I saw the person standing in the center of the office.

It was him—the same green-eyed person—back at the school. Only one thought kept popping into my head. You guessed correctly. I ran again toward the door, away from his office. I did try, but the stupid door didn't budge and was locked. Seriously, now he has gone mad and lost touch with reality.

The Fire Within (Ongoing)Where stories live. Discover now