Chapter 9.1: 1994, George

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Chapter 9.1: 1994, George

 

My eyes were closed as I sat in my chair. My fingers firmly pressed on the ends of the armrests, scratching them like claws up and down slowly as I tried to calm myself. Charlie, I thought, where is Charlie...

The clock above my refridgerator read 11:02. I had decided 11am would be when I couldn't take the wait anymore. But I decided to give him a little bit longer. My fingernails dug into the armrests, digging deeper and deeper, stationary. The black spot on the far side of the wall hadn't moved for an hour. So it wasn't a spider afterall.

Then what was it? 

Maybe someone's been in here. Maybe they put it there. 

My eyes went wide involuntarily and my heart immediately began to beat twice as quick.

No, there's no possible way. I've been here the whole time.

I tried to calm my breathing, counting between breaths. 1, 2, 3, breathe. 1, 2, 3, breathe. 1, 2-

But you slept. You slept for a long time. They probably came in when you slept.

I let out a little whimper and my hands sped to the top of my head in a reflex, covering eitherside of my forehead. My temples.

What does the black spot mean? What could it possibly mean? What is the message?

My whimpers became cries, like a dog in pain. Tears sprang to my eyes.

Maybe its not a black spot at all. MAYBE ITS A BULLET HOLE.

My cry became a shriek and I covered my mouth, damning myself, looking around the room with wide eyes, daring not to move.

What if...what if they're still in here? What if...he's still in here?!

I began to hyperventilate, taking a chance to grab the chantilly lace throw off of the back of my couch right in front of me, daring not to make a sound. Going ever so slowly, I crouched to the floor, beginning to crawl towards my kitchen, looking towards that bullet hole all the time. 

When I reached the space between the refridgerator and the wall, a small space where a tall floor cabinet should go but was never placed, I creeped into that spot. I curled up as small as I could muster, and covered myself head to toe with the chantilly lace.

Through the lace, I could still see out due to its fine threads, but maybe whoever was in here couldn't see me. I tried to make my breathing come as quietly as possible. My body started to heave, trying to get me to sob but I swallowed it down deep inside of myself. 

The sound of a heavy boot on wood made me jump and I cursed myself, staring out from my spot as long as I could without blinking. Wood. Creaky wood panel flooring. The bastard was in my bedroom! I held my breath.

The creak came again, louder this time. Then another. Another. Closer and ever louder. I began to wish I had a weapon, and tears began to leak from my eyes though I resented them. The tears, large drops, shook on my face as I realized my entire body was trembling.

The sound of a large fist on wood jolted me and my hands flew over my mouth as I stifled a scream. 

"Mrs. George? Mrs. George? Are you awake? I'm sorry the delivery is late today. I'm sorry its not Charlie, too. He got wasted, and you know kids, especially my kids, right? Haha! Well anyway. Its me, Avi. I've got your order."

Avi's familiar voice breezed into my apartment from beyond the front door and I started to cry. Bawling, release. Crying like a child.

"...Mrs..." Came Avi's voice, quieter now. More silence. Then his voice came very low, but still audible to me. "Georgina...? Georgina, are you okay? I can hear you." The sounds of my groceries being set on the floor outside of my door came to me, and then he knocked again, but gingerly, not our code of five loud knocks for safety.

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