Chapter 18 - Who doesn't kill you makes you stronger...?

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The fireplace provides a soothing crackle as I snuggle further under the cozy knit throw, clutching my mug of steaming hot chocolate closer to me as the orange sunset is slowly replaced by a glistening full moon. The wind starts to howl loudly outside the wall-sized window, but I remain warm as could be, safely indoors, with a book laying on the soft couch beside me.

Turning the page wearily, I let out a monstrous yawn, glancing at the clock as I reach the last sentence of the chapter. My eyes are already heavy as I finish the page, and I'm just about to close the book and make my way up the carpeted stairs and to my bedroom, when a creaking noise echoes from somewhere not too far away. Sighing with exhaustion, I heave myself off the couch and set off to find the source of the noise.

Noticing a window has swung open in the kitchen, I jog over, gripping the cold handle and yanking it so it latches shut.

Just as I'm turning away again, a strange chill descends on the room, and I find goosebumps racing down my now shivering arms, an unusual sensation. Ignoring this, I tell myself it's just a windy night, and the cold must be getting in.

I pad back over to the couch and settle onto the edge of it, leaning over to warm my hands around my mug of chocolate. I lean back on the couch and rest my eyes, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over my lap.

God, was it really only a couple of nights ago that Harry charmingly sprinted to my house and whisked me away on a walk in the moonlight to that beautiful park?- on what I first thoroughly enjoyed calling our first date, but have now decided was more of a way for him to calm his guilt for upsetting me earlier that day? It honestly feels like more than a decade since I made any attempt at human contact. Ugh.

My peaceful pondering is suddenly rudely interrupted by a harsh slam, presumably the window again. Groaning, I flop back, not wanting to get up again.

Eventually, though, I persuade myself to stand, but before I manage to, my gaze happens to flicker over to the window beside me.

Something's not right.

As I move forwards slightly, looking past my own reflection staring back at me, a single silhouette of a person, standing just beyond the glass, catches my attention. Intrigued, I slowly lean forwards, attempting to get a better look at the man standing outside, but the darkness of the night is concealing his face, save for the dim lights bouncing off his high cheekbones.

I wonder to myself if it could be one of the neighbors coming round, but it would be extremely strange for them to be standing on my lawn at this time. However, this thought is completely forgotten when I focus on the figure once more, I see that this person is much thinner, and taller than anyone I know.

Narrowing my eyes, I scoot along the couch hesitantly to investigate, but a glint of reflected light near the man's hand catches my eye.

My heart skips a beat or two as it comes to my realization that this glint is a stained shard of metal, serrated edge glistening menacingly in the faint lights.

A knife; tight in the grip of his hand.

My entire body goes rigid with sudden fear. The night turns silent as I hold my breath, my eyes trained on the weapon, just beyond the thin glass of the window.

I come to my senses as the figure moves, taking slow but steady steps towards the door, and towards me. Instantly, I scramble backwards and have to press a hand against my mouth to prevent a scream from escaping.

My heartbeat seems to be making up for lost time and before I see anything more, I yank the blanket over my head and curl under it, shaking. I tell myself over and over again that I must just be imagining, but I know that's a lie.

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