FRIDAY DECEMBER 6

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Something incredible has happened. Mom actually has a Friday off. Like the entire day. She's not even on call or anything. Her having an entire day off means one thing and one thing only. We're going out for dinner tonight. We don't get to go often, since she's always working or being called in for some reason.

Zach is really excited about it. He loves going out to what he deems "fancy" restaurants. In reality, we'll wind up only going to either the little wannabe bistro downtown that doesn't have anything on their menu for more than ten dollars, or this Hawaiian place that lets you build your own plates.

Mom must decide on the bistro, because although she says it's going to be a surprise, she also tells us to dress somewhat representable. Which means I have to wear a pair of jeans that don't have holes anywhere on them and Zach has to dig a shirt out of his closet that isn't wrinkled or stained with God knows what.

Nights out with the family are always fun. Mom's in a good mood, which makes her goofier than usual. She doesn't even say anything about Zach pressing his fingers against the car window on the drive over.

~~~

Friday night around six is apparently the time to be out and about downtown. Finding a parking spot near the restaurant is nearly impossible and we have to circle the block four times before one opens up and we're able to snag it.

The streetlight above the car flickers as I get out of the car. I stop to stare up at it until Mom taps my shoulder to get my attention. I blink the light from my eyes and follow her and Zach to the restaurant. We have to wait for a table to open up for us. We're given a number and told it'll be about twenty minutes until our table is ready. The lobby is crowded with other people waiting for their tables, so we go wait outside.

My cheeks start to sting with the cold after the first couple of minutes. I stuff my hands into my coat pockets while I watch Zach run in small circles until he gets dizzy enough to stumble. Mom doesn't notice. She's on her phone with someone from work.

So much for her night off.

There aren't that many people out on the sidewalk anymore. Which seems off since we haven't been here for that long and when we parked the car, there were people everywhere. I wonder if the chill got to them all. I'm on the verge of hopping up and down to keep myself warm when I see something in the corner of my eye.

By the corner of the building, there's someone standing there. There is absolutely no reason for the way my heart feels like it's gained twenty pounds. Weren't there people out here just a minute ago? So it's not weird for there to be someone standing by the edge of the building. Standing there perfectly still on the edge of the light, in the shadows cast by the tree on the street.

I turn to get a direct look at the person.

They shift as I do, slipping into the shadows even more as I face them. I can still see their shape. A darker blob in the shadows.

Zach bumps into my leg and that seems to be all it takes to get me to start walking towards the figure.

The twist in my stomach has me thinking that this is the same one that was outside the other night. This is the same one who has been following me for the past month. The same one that could possibly be my neighbor trying to scare me for whatever twisted reason.

It's that twist in my stomach that has me talking to the person before I'm even close enough to see if it really is Carson or not.

"I don't find this whole thing very funny, you know. I mean, yeah I know I've called you a creep before, but this is like a whole other level of weird."

The figure doesn't move. Something makes me stop just on the edge of the light, the toes of my shoes touched by the shadows.

"Why don't you come out in the light where I can see you?"

He moves. Not a lot, but it looks like he takes a step forward. My coat feels like it's too tight on my chest now. I can't breathe.

I can make out shapes on the figure. The hood of a jacket folded down, messy hair. I can almost smell that stupid body spray he uses from here.

He raises his hand and wiggles his fingers at me again.

I think I might puke.

"You're an asshole, you know that? This isn't funny at all. Stop messing with me!"

"Molly."

A hand comes down on my shoulder, tugs me backwards. I stumble, turn just in time to steady myself. Mom looks at me, her fingers still digging into my shoulder. "Are you okay? Who are you yelling at?"

My entire body is tense, chest heaving with every quick inhale through my nose. I look over my shoulder. The person is gone. All the people who were there and then gone before have returned though. A group splits up to go around me and Mom.

I press a hand to my throat, feel my pulse racing just under the skin there.

"Molly?"

"Nothing. Um, no one. I wasn't talking to anyone. Sorry. Is the table ready yet?"

Mom gives me a look. One like she doesn't quite believe me, but she doesn't press the matter. She eases her grip off me and just says, "Yeah, it's ready."

I follow her back to where Zach is trying to pull the door open by himself. My appetite is completely gone. 

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