1980'S HORROR FILM ➭ SCREAM

001

ੈ♡₊˚•. ˖⋆ ━━━━━⠀1980'S HORROR FILM !
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ⋯ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˓ 𑁍ࠜೄ
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ・*:·. ⇌ ஜ .·:*

   Phoebe likes to think she's a little bit melodramatic.

   As the daughter of someone who stalks people to put them in handcuffs for a living, she blames it on her childhood. Phoebe learned how to detect a liar before learning her ABC, though it wasn't always because of his profession. Even if she could blame it on his line of work, children always take an interest in whatever their parents do.

   "I know he had a rough childhood, but he's a freak!" Phoebe claims, flipping through the endless papers as she lays on her stomach with her feet in the air.

   "I mean, come on, you can't blame your parent's divorce on. . ." she mumbles, using her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear as she flips back. "Oh yeah, beheading someone."

   Her father chuckled from the other end of the phone, "You'd be surprised what people blame their actions on."

   Phoebe rolled her eyes, pushing herself up and leaning back on her ankles. In front of her lay a copy of one of her dad's old solved murder cases, a man who beheaded his wife and kept her head in the fridge for three weeks before he was caught. It was one of the more brutal cases he let Phoebe get her hands on, typically he limited it to white-collar crimes or stabbings.

   "You sure you have the stomach for this?"

   Phoebe rolled her eyes, twirling the phone cord around her finger. "Pretty damn positive, if not I'm kind of screwed, don't you think?"

   He laughs, "You'll be fine no matter what you decide to do, Phoebe."

   She smiles to herself, pushing the curls out of her face. "Yeah well, I should get going. I have to get up extra early if I need to stop by the sheriff's office before school."

   "You figure out who vandalized the school then?"

    "Of course," Phoebe confirms, picking at her chipped polish.

    "Okay well, get a good night's rest- and make-"

   "-make sure the doors and windows are double locked, yeah I got it. Love you."

   And Phoebe does just that. Slipping into her pajamas and checking each door and window with a cup of tea in her hand, making sure the alarm on her clock was set. Once she makes her way back to her bedroom, she locks the door and picks up the mess off the ground.

   She double-checks her locks and climbs into bed.

   Typically this process was a two-man job, so it took Phoebe five extra minutes to do it alone. Leaving her at a whopping 1:05 in the morning.

   Being home alone used to frighten Phoebe, especially overnight. Maybe it was because of the dark, or perhaps it was because of all the horror stories she has engraved in her mind. Granted, it doesn't scare her the way it used to. I mean, sure, the idea of a teenage girl being home and left alone without protection sounds like a death sentence.