Subject #013 | ✓

Chapter 7

I hesitantly reach into the drawer and lift it up gingerly between my thumb and forefinger. It's beautiful. It's in the shape of a heart, with little swirls indented in the gold. My fingers find the clasp that opens it, eager to see what pictures are inside of it. There's nothing.

It almost feels like an invitation. An invitation for me to put my own picture in it.

No. I'm not that selfish. But I am fascinated.

Then it hits me. I'll just go to the pawn shop in town. Then I can get it looked at. It's not too far from here, and maybe the clerk knew my grandpa. But before I do anything, I'm calling the police. Whether my parents are missing or not, I'm worried about them. I leave my grandfather's room tentatively and step back into my room, picking my phone up off the floor where I dropped it. This time, there's no hesitation before I press the call button and hold it to my ear, ready for the automatic voice of an officer. All I get is a monotone automated voice:

"It seems like there has been an error. Call again later."

What? With 911? I must have typed it in wrong or something. I try again. Same thing. The third time I try, I get a series of beeps that don't stop until I end the call. I collapse on my bed, rubbing my temples. What am I supposed to do?

Suddenly, the walls seem like they're closing in, squeezing the air out of my lungs slowly and painfully. It becomes extremely hard to breathe. I don't even care at this point whether or not I'm overreacting. I need to get out of this house, and fast before I suffocate .

I squeeze the hand with the locket in it so tight it leaves little indents in the palm of my hand. With one last glance back at my grandfather's room, I turn away and rush down the stairs. I almost collapse with relief when I see that nothing else has changed. I pull on my favorite maroon sweatshirt, and slip the locket over my head. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I shove open the door and take large gulps of air, relieved when air rushes back into my lungs.

After locking the door, I start walking down the sidewalk. I don't look back. If I did, I would have noticed that the light is still on in my grandfather's room.

~

The streets are so busy and filled with people that I can hardly move an inch without running into someone. I hide my face under my hood so as not to be seen by anyone I knew, specifically Jax. I plan on never ever seeing him again. Every breath I let out creates a blindfold of mist. I hug my arms around myself tightly. I really should start to wear some heavier clothing.

I stumble on an unstable slab of ground, and I curse under my breath. I'm so clumsy. My eyes scan the shops on both sides, searching for the familiar "Pauly's Pawn Shop" sign. Instead, my eyes brush over a shadow in one of the alleyways. I blink and it's gone, just like that. I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the ground. Seriously? Jess, get your act together, I tell myself.

"Miss?" A female voice calls out, and I'm sure all of the females nearby had to have looked up, including me. "Miss" is a very general term. An elderly woman is sitting on a rocking chair outside of a rundown shop called, "Auntie's KnickKnacks."

She's looking directly at me.

I stop walking. My heart stops. I look away, feeling vulnerable and self-conscious. I can feel many eyes on me. She's just a crazy old woman. She doesn't know anything. Leave her alone, I think and commence walking.

"Miss. Please come here! I have something to tell you!"

There is a sense of desperation in her voice. It confuses me, drawing me to a hesitant stop. Someone bumps into me and lets out a curse. I let out a string of "sorry's" before finally making it over to the woman.

She looks to be in her eighties, so pretty much ancient. She has stringy white hair held up in a loose bun atop her head. She wears a pair of glasses with so much dirt on them I'm surprised she can even see me. Her eyes startle me the most. There's an emotion in them, staring me straight on in the face. Fear. I force my eyes away. I can hear my mom's words in my head. It's not polite to stare at strangers.

"Jessica Marie Hollens." She croaks. My head snaps up, and I meet her eyes with a startled expression. How does she know my name?

"Y-yes?" I stutter, getting caught on my own words.

"I sense something coming from within you." She says, and extends her hands. They're bony and fragile looking, with veins bulging underneath her elderly skin. "Give me your hands."

I almost don't. This lady is seriously freaking me out. I have something within me? Is she insane? But, she's old and probably needs some company. Maybe she has Alzheimer's and thinks I'm her long lost granddaughter. The least I can do is pretend to be that long lost granddaughter. I put my shaking hands into hers.

She wraps her dainty fingers around my left hand and traces imaginary lines down the middle. "Oh, my." She says, gasping and leaning closer. "You poor, poor girl."

Huh? I nearly scream at the top of my lungs. Instead, all that comes out is a small, "What?"

The woman looks up at me through her dirt-stained glasses. "You are in grave danger."

My breath catches in my throat. I search her eyes for signs that this isn't real. That this is all just for show. But the woman eyes reflect the most horrifying mixture of panic and anxiety. It takes me a moment to realize why. She's scared of me.

Do you believe the woman? Or is it all just a hoax? You'll find out in Chapter 8. It will be out tomorrow! Comment thoughts, opinions and feedback if you so desire. Thanks for reading! ;)