He's Always Watching

Chapter Nine

Well, all I can say is, don't get used to the updates being so close together :P I was home sick this weekend, so I had extra time. Enjoy, lovlies <3

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         “Cassie?” A faraway voice called from above me.

         I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, afraid of what I might find when I opened them. For all I knew, I could be in some creep’s basement/torture chamber. Sounds legit, right?

         “Come on, Cass, wake up,” the voice pleaded, this time sounding closer. A quiet groan emitted somewhere deep in my throat. My body was throbbing. Every part of me hurt, especially my torso. Every time I drew in a breath, stabbing pain ripped through my midriff.

        Something started to shake under me. An earthquake, maybe? All I knew was, it was making the pain a whole heck of a lot worse. “Stop,” I tried to say, but it came out more like a pitiful squeak.

        “Will you just open your eyes?!”

        I decided to comply, and reluctantly peeled my eyelids open. I jumped when I realized Colby’s face was only an inch from mine, causing us to hit heads.

      “Idiot,” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead as he sat down on the coffee table beside me.

       “Am not!” He stuck his tongue out at me. “Are you okay? You were out for hours.”

      “What even happened?” I asked, trying and failing to sit up when a sharp pain shot through my abdomen again. I wrinkled my nose and laid back down on the couch. At least I was in my own living room, not some psycho’s fantasy chamber.

     “I’m not sure,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I think you fell down the basement stairs, though. Or maybe that guy threw you down them. I don’t know. All I remember after finding the breaker is something hard hitting my head, then waking up and the lights were on.”  

     I struggled to remember anything after finding the switches, but nothing came up. I half remembered falling down the stairs, but the big question is, did I trip or was I pushed? Some things just weren’t adding up, but my head hurt too badly to try and sort them out. However, those unanswered questions made way for some more easily answered ones.

     “How long have I been out?” I asked.

     “Well, about two hours since I woke up. It’s three in the morning now.”

     “Okay, one more question.”

     “Shoot.”

     “Can you please take me to the hospital? I think I broke something.”

     Three hours and one x-ray later, we figured out that I had two broken ribs, and a bruised wrist bone. Other than that, I only had a few other bruises. The doctor taped my ribs up so tightly I could barely breathe and suggested some ibuprofen for the pain. At least I hadn’t broken a leg or something. It’d be hard enough to explain the ribs to my parents when they got home. What was I supposed to tell them? That my stalker cut the power, broke in, and possibly pushed me down the stairs? They’d either have me committed, or call my dad’s boss. Either way, I’d need a really good excuse.

     “I’m so tired,” Colby yawned as we made our way through the waiting room.

    “You can sleep when we get back to my house. I’m not staying there alone anymore.”