The Madman {h.s.}

~Chapter 5~

My breath quickened and I looked down at my phone that I had just dropped.

I bent down slowly, picking up my phone cautiously with my shaky hands. I sat down criss-crossed, staring at my phone in horror.

My breath hitched as I hit the home button; but there wasn't any notifications on my phone. There was one thing, though.

One giant crack in the middle of my screen. Just great.

I chose to disregard the fact that I'll have to pay for it to be fixed and I unlocked my phone, scrolling through my messages.

Still nothing. I know didn't imagine that text.

Minutes passed, and I just kept staring at the phone and my window, not knowing how to process what just happened. Did I really just get a text answering my question? That's impossible and completely disturbing. But there could only be one possible answer for this.

Someone is stalking me.

It could be a possible theory, though. I remember exactly what the message said, but it had an H at the end. It was signed by someone with the name that starts with an H.

I felt my eyes sting with small tears at the thought of being stalked by this "H". It's not exactly the kind of idea anyone would feel okay about, obviously. I quickly got up to look out the window for anybody, tripping over my own feet in the process.

My glossy brown eyes searched every inch for somebody out in the cold darkness behind the glass, yet there was nothing. Nobody.

My insides shifted once again. I felt so uneasy, as if someone was watching my every move; every breath. My eyes stung even more now, tears desperately wanting to fall. But no, I don't cry. I never do. Crying is for the weak, and I will never, not at any time, let those stupid, hot streams of sadness run down my face. Crying is for the weak, I repeated to myself.

I faint yet harsh knock from downstairs awoke me from my unpleasant thoughts.

"I'll get it!" I heard my sister yell as her small feet pounded against the steps.

The fast knocking continued. What if it was the stalker I had thought about? What if it was some killer? What if Caitlin opened the door for some psychopath?

My head whipped around and I ran to the bedroom door, yanking it open, and flying across the hallway towards the stairs. I am not letting my sister get killed tonight (and having it be my fault)!

As soon as Caitlin opened the door, I made it to the bottom of the staircase just in time. I quickly ran over to her and firmly gripped her arm, pushing her in back of me so that the person she opened the door for wouldn't get to her first.

"Don't you dare touch-" I growled, but my scowl faded as Cya, Niall, and Niall's mom stood at the door.

"-her..." A breaker of solace washed over me, noticing a killer wasn't at the door.

"Woah, I was just going to give her a hug!" Cya and Niall giggled at my odd outburst.

"Uh-um-right. Sorry." I stammered, backing away from a confused Caitlin and opening the door wider.

My friends quickly headed in, completely familiar with how to get around the big house. Niall's mom, Mrs. Horan, gestured for Caitlin to get her stuff for her little sleepover before looking up back at me and smiling her dazzling white pearls. She was a short middle aged woman with blonde hair, but she was still really fun to be around, just like her son.

"Honey, are you okay? Your a bit red." She quickly frowned and put a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up at her and smiled reassuringly. "Yup, I just got a bit jumpy with the fact that my 10 year old sister opened the door by herself, y'know?"