Death Is My BFFLAD (Book Two Original Series)

Chapter 19: Clowning Around

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P.S- I'll be editing this a lot. I know it kind of jumps around...I wanted to get something posted for you guys. :))

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~Hear your heartbeat, beat a frantic pace.

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You know those moments when you're so scared, every bang, clatter, whisper, hush, scream, pin-drop, and horn seems to be significantly louder? How about when the loose, comfortable clothes that you're wearing seem to grow tighter, restraining your chest?

Hide!

That's the first thing you'll want to do.

There's only one way to know when you're truly terrified. It's not as simple as watching a horror movie, or running through a corn maze with someone chasing you. To be terrified is to know that you're not in the highest category of the food chain, to know that if you hide, the one looking for you will always find you. You can't hide.

Move!

This feeling is natural, yet unnatural in a sense that by moving, you're only making yourself a prize to your watcher, a goal. It's the second order your mind will send you.

Scream!

This is unintentional at first. One usually screams to get attention, or show excitement, possibly to seem frail and innocent. However if you're purely terrified, you're screaming because you want someone to help you. But screaming is equivalent to giving your enemy you're new plan of physical action: nothing.

Run!

Running is one of the biggest mistakes you will make. Running makes you a challenge. Unfortunately, when it comes to hunting, the predator loves to chase down what they want to snack on. For example, if a nice chunky Zebra continued to lay on the ground and eat grass--not frolic away at the spotting of a Cheetah, I bet you my left big toe that the Cheetah wouldn't feel obligated to run towards the fat thing. It would walk. I mean really, why bother wasting their energy if the Zebra is too lazy to give it a fun game of you-go-run-and-I'll-bite-you-in-the-ass-in-a-few-miles? They have nothing better to do all day but have a nice hunt once in a while. Conclusively, running gets you killed faster. This instinctive action will also give the enemy a chance to defeat you. So don't run, walk very briskly.

Oh, but you don't have to listen to all of those tips. You can do what I did that night. The night I had a realistic dream that sent me shivering as it passed and questioning whether it had truly happened. The night a large, terrifying looking figure hurried past my door. The night my apartment lights went out.

I sat, still, on the comforter of my bed, my hand over my mouth as I tried to suppress a scream. I listened to the horrifying silence of the apartment, knowing the intruder was just waiting for me to make a move or to scream, to run, then hide.

Could it be him?

I prayed, prayed, that Marcy wasn't home. That they hadn't passed my door to get to her first. I prayed it was Death. The irony of that prayer made my blood go cold because I remembered then that he wanted to meet with me.

It has to be him.

I heard a noise so inaudible-- that had my heart not stopped beating from fear, I wouldn't have heard it. It was a soft ringing. It seemed to play over, and over again, like an echo, although it had only played a single time. The sound reminded me of the kind of bells I heard when I was younger on reindeer on the television during Christmas time. The kind that were playful, alluring, and gentle all in one package.