Crazy~Sexy~Psycho

Chapter Five

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Tap.....

Tap.....

Tap...

What the hell is that? I lift my head off the pillow, grabbing my phone from the side table to check the time. It's 2:45 in the morning.

Tap...

I hear the sound of something bouncing off my window again and I sit there debating whether to investigate the noise.

What if it's a burglar??

Or a psychopath??

Tap...

Oh fuck it, my room is on the second floor. What's the worst that could happen?

I throw my covers off and almost immediately miss the warmth. I pad across the, cursing under my breath that I was pulled from my comfy bed. Pulling my curtains back, I look out my window and down into the backyard but I don't see anything there.

Well, isn't this a waste of sleeping time..

I turn to walk back to my bed, shuffling my feet and hugging my body. I'm glad it's Friday and I have no plans for tomorrow because it's going to take me forever to fall back asleep now.

Tap...

Ok, now someone's going to be murdered. If it's a murderer out there, I hope they are prepared to be the one getting murdered.

I think that's the most I've ever said murder.

I push my window open and hang my head out looking around the dark yard.

"What the fuck do you want psychopath burglaring murderer?!" I say in the most angry whisper I can manage.

"How did you know it was me, Sunshine?" I see a figure walk out from behind a tree and I squint to try to see his face.

"Gavin?"

"Just so you know, I don't do burglary or murder," he says nonchalantly.

"Why are you throwing things at my window at two in the morning, Gavin?" I ask and my eyes start to adjust to the darkness making it easier to see his features.

Smirking ass...

"Couldn't sleep,"

"So take a pill," I say and slam the window shut and start walking back to my warm, inviting bed.

"Baby, you're my Angel, you're my darling Angel..."

Oh dear God...

I walk back to my window and push it open.."Are you seriously singing Shaggy outside my window right now?!" I hiss.

"It was the only song I could think of that had Angel in it. I don't think it's bad for improv, Sugar,"

"Don't call me Sugar,"

"Yeah, you're right. You're kind of spicy, aren't ya?"

This can't be happening...

It's all a dream. That's it, I'm just dreaming. There isn't a psychopathic teenage boy standing outside my house right now.

"I'm coming up," he says and my eyes go wide as I watch him climb the freakin drain pipe up the side of my house.

"I didn't say you can come in my room!" I say panicked as I watch him getting closer.

I suddenly become very aware of what I'm wearing. I have very short striped pajamas bottoms and an old Metallica t-shirt on. I quickly straighten out my messy hair with my fingers.