Who's That?!

Third Day (28/10)

I barely can have a beauty sleep last night. I feel like there is someone who keeps staring at me wherever that I went. Even when I woke up this morning, the other side of my bed looks like it had been messed up by someone. Since I know it will not making a concrete evidence, I just took a picture of it just for my personal references.

I'm not just going to stand after wake up as it might bring negative effects so I just lay on my bed. However, that action leads me to just be on it for a very long time after.

I checked on the time. It's already nine in the morning and it just three days after the arrest. Three days! It so boring until I feel that suicide might help me to get rid all of the boredom of me. But, thinking that it will cause other consequences, I decide to not proceed with that stupid idea. Stupid and idiot.

I put my robe on my body and take a weak walk to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and let the lukewarm showering and flowing on my body. The air in that room is so mesmerizing, I love it so much. After a stressful night, a warm shower usually will help the tension out from my head. Or at least help a bit.

After that, I take my robe and walked to my room again. However, I'm shocked when I saw the clothes that I planned to wear is taken from on my bed. I checked it again whether it might fall on the ground or lapping under the comforter. 

But it wasn't there. Okay, this is not normal. This is something scary. I loosen up my robe and walked naked around my room looking for my clothes. That moment too, the door was widely opened mysteriously. The door even wasn't locked, was tightly closed. So it is ridiculous to say that there is the wind which makes it widely open.

I take another shirt and put it on. Also, I take a short skirt to complete my attire for that day. After that, I went outside the room and shut my room door. When I'm walking through the walkway, I noticed that one of our guest room's door was loosely opened. At first, I intend to shut it up but then I'm thinking of something else.

I peek into the room. All the furniture still staged like it supposed to be. I went inside the room and I found that the room was in a good condition. I walked slowly to trace if there is anything that not supposed to be there, is there. 

BAM!!!

A rolled up rug fall from inside the closet right in front of my face. Then I realized that eventually my feet was stepped on something plate-like structure. The thing was chained to a string which then leads to the closet. And the rolled up rug was so firm in terms of the rollings. 

What is this means?

Also in the meantime, the room door was shut and locked from the outside. I ran to the door and knocked on it few times vigorously. Somehow, the door still secured lock and I can't out from the room. I then kicked the door filled with rage and somehow, it works.

I walked out and walk to the stairs. When I'm walking on the walkway, I heard the gunshot from my back and then there's a nail fall just beside my head. I'm shivering and shocked. I move my head back and I saw there's hand from inside of my room.

I barely can see the face as the only body parts that I can see is just hands and it holding a nail gun. A NAIL GUN, I tell you. What do you think I feel right now?!

I ran towards the staircase intended to go down. But when I was just a few steps at the stairs, I slipped and fall down. When I was reviving my energy to stand back, I heard the gunshot and there's nail fall beside my head. The nail penetrates the stair floor and it adds some more chilling feelings.

I looked upstairs. There's a person standing up there at the end of the staircase, looking at me directly. He's wearing black attire and his face was covered with the white mask. So, literally, I barely can see who is he or at least what gender he is.

"WHO ARE YOU?!?!?!?!"

I can see that he is laughing up there. Honestly, I'm so scared right now that I can barely move. The scares totally conquer every inch of my body. 

But the feelings shooed away when I saw that he pointing the gun directly to me. I stand with full of bravery and ran to the door. Even I know that the sirens will ring if I went outside, I do it anyway. 

The alarms ringing the moment I opened the door. Within minutes, the cops arrived at my house. The officers which I always cooperate with, Detective Seymour Gish was there too. He approached me and taking the notes.

"What's going on, Mrs. Edwards?"

"There's someone in my house. I swear I'm not lying."

Detective Gish takes a look at his officers and commands them to go check inside the house. All of them went inside and leave two of us outside.

"What's happened, Gemma?"

"There's a masked psychopath in my house. He has a nail gun and he pointed it out at me."

"Mrs. Edwards, did you take your medication today?"

"Don't you believe in my words, Gish?"

"Gemma, it's not that I don't believe you but, there is no concrete evidence to prove it. We can't just assume it without evidence."

"Then go check it first before you judge me. What you think I am? A novelist who keep thinking what to create during free time. I'm scared, okay."

After minutes, those officers come back to us with a smirky smile on their face. I knew they are trying to stop themselves from laughing.

"Detective, we checked thoroughly around the house and we couldn't find any traces of living things here."

"Do you check the stairs?! There nails on it!" I yelled at his face.

"Yes, ma'am. Nothing on it."

"The room! I show you." I drag Detective Gish's hand to the guest room upstairs. The room which there is a falling rug before. 

However, when we get there, the room was already staged like it used to be before. I feel so weak. Weak enough until the idea of suicide says hi to me again. All of them give me a judging look but hey, why should I be blamed?!

After all of them leaving, I sit in the living room alone. I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here. I don't care, whatever happens, I will fight him.

"I DON'T CARE WHOEVER YOU ARE BUT I'M NOT LEAVING, YOU HEAR ME!?"

There's no response. How chicken is he. As I know that I'm alone in this, I began planning something. I know that he's still in my house. I know that he always know what I planned and what my next thing to do. 

I'm alone. I can't leave my house. No one believes in my words. I got no communications with outside world. There's a psychopath in my house.

Now tell me what could be worse?