Scripted

two

two

I stared at the large brown door with the number “21” hammered onto it in black metal. Normally, I didn’t let what anyone said get to me, but right now, all I could think about was something Mason had uttered. He seemed pretty persistent on the fact that Craigslist Gabe was a murderer, and now, actually, physically standing before the apartment that I could potentially live in, it felt more real. Like, Craigslist Gabe could jump out with a knife and start cutting up my limbs. That didn’t sound too appealing.

           Hesitantly, I allowed my knuckles to brush across the door, faintly creating a sound. Screw it. I was Natalie Freaking Perry, and if I was afraid of some loser off of Craigslist, then I deserved to get killed. Well, okay, maybe not, but I definitely should’ve been more confident about the whole knocking thing. Shaking my head clear of all worries, I pressed my fist against the door again, though this time harder and louder.

           I heard footsteps on the other side, and held my breath, plastering on my best “I’m-Natalie-Perry-and-you-should-be-honored-to-meet-me” smile, wondering what Craigslist Gabe would be like. Was he the type of guy that preferred shooting his victims, or was he more creative and preferred spearing? So many questions… Suddenly, I saw the door handle twist, and my heart began to beat fast. Though, I wasn’t exactly expecting the person who stood on the other side.

           It was a kid. About my age, maybe Mason’s. He was pretty pale, but not, like, a gross pale. His dark hair swept over his eyebrows, just barely missing his actual eyes—which happened to be on the lighter side of the spectrum. He was cute. Pretty tall, but not overly giant. I didn’t really see any muscles, but that was because he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweats, and that ensemble made even me look practically flat chested and normal. Wow. Who knew murderers could actually look this normal?

           Unsurprisingly, the guy was about as stunned as I was, and his eyes moved about my being, stopping at my face. “Holy shit! You’re Natalie Perry!” the dude said, his eyes wide.

           “And you’re Gabe from Craigslist!” I returned with a polite grin.

           “Am I on Punk’d?” he suddenly asked, looking around for hidden cameras or something.

           “Hate to burst your bubble, Gabe, but no. Just me. Alone. Natalie Perry. That’s it,” I told him, trying to keep myself from laughing.

           “You’re the chick who answered my ad?” he gaped.

           “Yep,” I nodded.

           “I thought you were moving in with Mason Grey?” he sputtered. And then, I just had to laugh. I had posted less than twenty minutes ago the rumor that Mason and I were possibly moving in together, so either this guy was more of a stalker than a murderer, or he happened to be a fan—of Mason or me, I couldn’t tell just yet.

           “Ewww! Why would I move in with Mason?” I stuck my tongue out for the added effect of aversion.

           “Uh, well, isn’t he your boyfriend?” Gabe questioned in confusion.

           “Listen, Gabe, all I want is a cheap apartment with a roommate who isn’t going to murder me in the middle of the night. Is that you, or do I need to go back on Craigslist and find someone else to fill that position?” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

           “Uh, that’s totally me! Yeah, I can definitely manage to not, uh, murder you. Yeah. Not really my thing,” he let out an uneven laugh.