I had sprinted at least six blocks before I started to run out of breath. I had just been running instinctively without seriously thinking of what I should do. The only thing in my mind was that I had to run as far as possible from that condo.
Panting heavily, I sat on the curb and looked up at the gloomy sky to actually start thinking. I looked around and realized that I didn’t know where I was. Great, one more thing to add to my list of problems.
I glanced over at some of the small houses around me. Should I knock on one of their doors and ask for help? No, that was probably a bad idea, because one, I would be putting whoever was living there in danger, and two, they probably wouldn’t believe me or want to talk to me. I was covered in dirt, barefoot, and worst of all I had a crap ton of blood smeared on me. I wouldn’t want to talk to me.
And what about Shawn? Wouldn’t he be fucking pissed when he didn’t find me chained to the floor? I face palmed; it probably hadn’t been a good idea to run on the sidewalks in plain sight. Shawn could have easily seen and caught up to me by driving his car.
What the hell could I do then? I was lost, covered in blood, and Shawn was probably after me by now. An idea hit me. I could hide in a backyard until night came, which was when I would try to find my way home. I then frowned; that plan was shit. What if I got found and arrested for trespassing? And how the fuck would I find my way home in the dark? The only thing insured by that plan was that Shawn probably wouldn’t find me, which I guess was my biggest goal. I sighed to myself; trespassing it was.
I stood up and began walking around. I should probably find a house with no cars in the driveway and no lights on. I wouldn’t want to break into a backyard that had kids playing catch or something. I looked left and right, searching for a house that seemed like a good match. When I finally found a good house, I heard a car slow down behind me.
It must be Shawn. I stiffened, and then considered running. Fuck! I couldn’t outrun that guy! I glanced at the car over my shoulder, unsure of what to do. I met the confused eyes of…Las Vegas!? I stared at him silently in equal confusion.
After a couple of moments Las Vegas cleared his throat awkwardly. “So…hi Jake.”
I nodded. “Hi.”
There was another long moment of silence. I spoke again: “Uh… so why aren’t you in school?” I asked, trying to make some sort of casual conversation.
“I skipped. Why aren’t you in school?” He asked.
Crap. What the hell could I say to that!? “Uh…I’m skipping too.”
Las Vegas nodded uncomfortably. “Are you hurt?” He asked, glancing down at me.
“Huh?” I looked down at the blood on me. “Oh, this isn’t mine.” I said, trying to get him to worry less. Sadly, it backfired. Las Vegas paled and looked at me quizzically. “Oh, uh, but I didn’t hurt anybody! This is actually…pig blood! Yeah, I was helping someone… kill their pig…to cook it...because they have pigs.” I lied, trailing off when Las Vegas looked at me in disbelief.
“Putting that aside.” He muttered. “Where have you been this week?” He asked.
“Killing pigs.” I quickly replied without thinking.
“Enough with the fucking pigs!” Las Vegas yelled angrily. “I’m worried about you! On Monday I saw you with cuts and bruises, and now, after you being gone for days, I meet you here and your covered in blood! What the fuck is going on?!”
Crap. What the hell could I say to that?! Possibly nothing... In this situation, there probably wasn’t a single lie that could sound legit. I averted my eyes and stared at the ground uncomfortably.
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Who's Texting Me? Oh, Just My Homicidal Stalker. boyxboy
RomanceLike any other teenager, I wanted a damn break from school. Well, a murder on campus gave me that break. Sadly (for me, mostly) the murder had to do with my new... "friend": a homicidal, obsessive, cunning, and possessive stalker with an irritating...