I warm up some rice in my microwave. I even added a side of beans, because last week Ms. Baker absolutely devoured them.
Or maybe she was just starving.
It's the thought that counts anyway.
When it beeps, I take the plate to the basement and take the key out of my pocket. I open the door and say, "Guess who brought your favorite food—"
The plate clatters to the floor as I let it drop.
She's gone.
My fist tightens as I yell in anger. This is how she treats me? I didn't harm a single hair on her head, I fed her, and she escapes? Such a little—
I walk to the whooshing window, broken, glass strewn across the floor. How did she escape? I drugged her and tied her... I facepalm. I knew that fork went somewhere.
I stormed out of the room and went outside. Where could she have gone? I walk to the park and spot a bike. I ride it to the station, hopping off it when I arrive. I look through the window.
There she is. Spilling her guts.
I pick up the bike in a hurry before anyone spots me and travel to the drugstore. I get what I need and bike to Brandon's house.
I knock on the door, and Brandon answers. "Alyssa? What's up?"
"Can I come inside?" He nods, and makes way for me to enter by stepping from the door. "So what's up?"
"I'm so sorry. But I love you too much."
He smiles tightly. "Well, I love you too, but what—"
I shove the rag into his face and push him against the wall, resting my other hand on his chest. "I have to take you with me." I smile softly. "This way, we can be together forever."
He screams, the sound muffled through the cloth, and I just let him get it all out before he slumps to the floor. I take the car key from his pocket and drag him with me slowly so he doesn't hurt himself. I open the door to his car and lay him across the backseat.
I close the door and open the driver's seat, inserting the key. Oh Brandon, I think to myself. You're going to be so happy.
YOU ARE READING
infatuated.
Mystery / Thriller*Brandon should be cherished.* *I will not steal from him.* *My mother needs to be stopped.* *How good would it feel to just shove her down the stairs?* *Maybe I could put a drug in her coffee, frame it as an overdose.* *Oh, or possibly just go the...
