2

39 7 0
                                    

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clara wakes up with a jolt. Her dark eyes dart open, trying to process what the hell she must have been dreaming about. Dazed and confused, she closes the window that sends gusts of autumn breezes through her bedroom and attempts to remember what happened in her dream.

Nothing concrete comes to mind as she goes to the bathroom to wash her face. All she can remember is a pair of striking, crystal blue eyes following her every move. Clara can't quite remember if they belonged to a girl or a boy, and she can't understand why the back of her head is throbbing, either.

A sense of fear weighs down her heart, and she wonders what took place in her nightmare. The events that took place in her subconscious dangle on the tip of her tongue but cannot be formed into words.

Clara barely makes it back to her bed, stumbling and clawing to slide under the covers. For some reason, she feels weak and lightheaded. Unquestioningly, her eyes close, and the unsuspecting girl drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

The window was closed, but it wasn't locked. A thud on the roof sounds in the bedroom, but no one is awake to hear it. A dark shadow crosses across the glass of Clara's bedroom window. The figure quietly pushes the window up as a sense of desperation saturates the air. Hopping soundlessly through the open window, the willowy man hesitates for a fleeting moment.

His eyes flash to the sleeping woman wrapped in a bundle of sheets. The tranquil scene makes him feel uncomfortable; he has no right to witness any of this. However, he has a mission he must complete before the sun rises, and he has no time to waste.

Swiftly moving across the room, the man rushes to her wooden desk and opens the drawers, digging through the stacks of random drawings and envelopes filled with bills. He quickly gives up and moves on, heading towards the mint green jewelry box on top of her dresser.

The man sensed that it was in this very room, worn by that very girl. And after eyeing the worn jewelry box, he knows that the necklace is inside of it.

He places his hands on the wooden box, biting his bottom lip to contain his excitement. After an eternity of searching, the necklace is finally in his grasp. The hard part is done, and the easy part is here after all this time. Now, all he has to do is open the box.

The dark figure opens the box, and a plastic ballerina spins in a circle while a light, airy bell plays a melody. He shuts the stupid music box quickly, growling to contain his animalistic anger.

It's not here! The stupid thing isn't even a jewelry box, anyway. Years of tracking and searching have lead to yet another dead end for the man.

The girl in the bed rolls on her side, letting out a huge sigh. The dark shadow freezes, though not out of fright. If he had to, he could attack her and hide her dead body in the forest. The mess he'd make would take time to clean, but nothing of the sort would be impossible to complete in a time of need.

The man pauses, waiting to hear another noise. Nothing sounds in the small room. Today, the girl is lucky. She better thank her guardian angel for protecting her tonight because--

His train of thought suddenly changes directions. Well, he could just kill her for the hell of it. After all, he could take her outside and into the woods faster than she could let out a scream. And there, the real fun could begin.

Maybe later, he decides. He'll consider the idea as a personal incentive to encourage himself to find the necklace in a timely manner. In this case, he must keep searching for the valuable piece of jewelry.

Slinking around the room in the darkness, the figure searches through sock drawers and closets alike to find what he's looking for. However, he comes up empty-handed and decides to head to the attic in case the antique is discarded in a moving box above him.

The stranger walks out of Clara's room and heads up a set of creaky stairs to the attic. He doesn't know he's heading in the wrong direction, and hopefully, he never finds out where the necklace is hiding.

While a peaceful-looking Clara softly snores, a shiny, metal pendent hangs around her neck by a metal chain. Surrounded with a ornate metal embellishment pattern, a round sapphire rock as big as a thumbprint rests against her chest. The necklace is hidden under the mess of blankets around Clara, safe from the dangers of the world.

Footsteps sound on the floor above Clara's room. The stranger is still searching for the object he'll never find, and he realizes this once he's ran out of places to search.

Defeated, the man sneaks down the attic steps and back into Clara's room, slipping out of the window he came through earlier in the night. Right as he quietly shuts the window behind him, something grabs him by the collar of his shirt and dangles him over the edge of the roof.

"Stop screaming or else I'll drop you," a voice threatens.

"It won't hurt," he replies, knowing exactly what they both are. "And, besides, it's not in there. So just let me go, and we can both be on our merry way."

"You asked for it." The man lets go of the stranger and allows him to escape. His conclusion is flawed, but the man won't be the one to correct him.

Instead, he sits back down on the window ledge and waits for the sun to rise.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Love Like ThisWhere stories live. Discover now