Deadly Dreamer - Book One ✔️

Chapter 24

Night is upon me. The street has darkened. The shadows that sway in-between the streetlights float above the road, creating a sense of eerie calm.

My phone vibrates in my pocket again. Alex has been messaging me. Pulling it out, I read the message.

Are you going to be home soon? Or are you working late? - 7.43pm

Looking away from the screen, I place my free hand on my head, trying to push away an incoming headache.

I haven't told him about my run in with Dennis yet. I had another job to do before I approached that subject with him. It was more for my own benefit than anything else, selfish, I know. In my defence, I had an incredible amount of anger pulsing through my veins that I needed to get out, and fast. Or slow, if you consider my current situation. I'm parked outside Belinda's home, waiting to enter, my timing must be perfect.

Lifting my phone back up, I type out a quick response.

I've had a rough day, got a couple things left to do then I'll head home. Won't be too much longer. Love you xx

I hate lying to him. But it's necessary. This new part of my life has become a constant drain to me, but at the same time it fuels me. I know I can't hold myself back. When I try to, it backfires on me and somehow my body goes ahead without my immediate knowledge. My mind craves this, I feel it deep down. I can't even deny that to myself. It's a sickness. I feed off it.

Turning my head, I scan the area. Flicking my eyes along the trees that scatter the sidewalks, I search again for any passers by. The past hour has been uneventful. The neighbourhood is mostly occupied with singles and young couples, as far as I've noticed. Most of which, have gone out for the night, making my task of getting in and out that much easier.

I became inspired by a plan after I had first entered Belinda's house. Upon seeing the amount of tea in her kitchen, I knew I could catch her off guard. And even if she did pick up on something, it wouldn't make a difference, she couldn't stop the effects.

You see, when Alex left the army, he struggled sleeping solidly due to PTSD. After speaking to his doctor about his ongoing issues, Alex was prescribed strong sleeping tablets. They worked wonders, once the drug took effect he was dead out of it for hours. No noise or movement bothered him at all. Once he had his sleeping habits under control, he had no further need of them but they stayed in our bathroom cabinet, just in case.

In this case, they were exactly what I needed. I'd stuffed them in my bag a few weeks back, as a precaution, or a back up plan. Whatever you want to call it. It was a moment of pure genius, I thought.

Leaning over to the passenger seat where my duffle bag sits, I grab out my gloves from a side pocket then I softly guide them along my fingers and down my thin wrists. I pull my dark, brown hair back into a tight pony on top of my head and step out of my car. I make my way silently through the neighbours backyard again, thanking my lucky stars they don't have a dog and scale the fence into Belinda's backyard.

The pale kitchen light peeks through the blinds, faintly lighting my way as I walk towards the door. Sticking to the shadows, I sneak to the window and peek through the gap in the blinds. The kitchen is vacant, but I can see a box of chamomile tea lying open on the counter. Looking further into the house from my view through the window, I notice an arm dangling over the side of the sofa in the sitting room, a mug dangles from the fingers of the arm. Finding that its safe to enter, I open the door.