*COMPLETED* (18+) MATURE
Wrong number...usually a person would delete the number, right? A mistaken text leads to blood money and danger. Chris Johnson, a gender fluid male, receives a text from a mystery guy who shares a card number. Aware that i...
I watch Sam sleep...paying close attention to his chest. He was given drugs, so I need to keep a close surveillance on him. I allow myself to doze off for a few minutes at a time as if my mind is a mental alarm. Each time, I gained consciousness, my sight landed on his chest. Okay...he's okay.
When the evening approaches, I decide to go to the bathroom and wash my face with cold water, for the nerves. From the opened door, I hear jiggling of a knob. "Come in," I say, must be mom or dad checking in. The jiggling comes again; this time, it intensifies...growing violent. My body stiffens, straight up like a board.
Oh no...I leave the bathroom, searching for an object to use as a weapon. Nothing but boxed gloves and hand sanitizer is in the room.
A shadow underneath the door captures my sight like a deer in headlights. "Who's there? A nurse? Doctor?" I get no response...only an ongoing knob vibrating and twisting. I jog to the bed, feeling around Sam, who is still hard asleep, and find a remote. I click the panic button multiple times.
Come on...come on, hurry up. Fuck I need a gun!!
The aggressive jiggling halts.
The shadow under the door draws away to the side. I sink to the floor, holding my chest with both hands. Fuck WHAT THE FUCK! Is the stalker in the hospital?!!
The door opens, I jump to my feet, balling up my fist. Ready to throw.
A male nurse enters, his pink curls bouncing. "The panic button was pressed, is everything okay?"
I let my fist fall limply to my side. The person is messing around...trying to scare me, they didn't come in, the knob was a scare tactic. Should I tell the nurse to call the cops, or to check the cameras? Where would that lead? Would it piss the goon off and cause something worse?
I doubt they left...
I collect myself. Be smart. "Oh, I must have pressed that by mistake...I meant to call about dinner."
I didn't sleep at all...I ordered two cups of coffee, muted the tv, and patrolled the room like fucking a English guard...whatever their names are 🤷🏻♀️. Any movement at the door had me on alert. I watched shadows pass by all night, expecting a fight. I stole a butter knife from the dinner I had-a chicken salad and Pepsi.
What if I talk with this person about the plan to return the money?
Everything doesn't have to be violent-just try to talk it out.
No, idiot, evidently returning the money didn't work, look at the situation??
I let my inner monologue steer me to the truth.
At noon, my parents bring a snack, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with milk. My dad gives Sam a shoulder hug...to my surprise. "Good noon." He says, then fiddles his hands awkwardly. "Are you up for talking?"
My mom is impatient...it's apparent; my dad is never pushy. "Not yet..." I begin, sensing the heat of an outraged mother.
"Yes." Sam disagrees with me. 'It's about time we talked." I feel his tone egging me on to join in with the reveal.
I want to respond with stubbornness but know it will cause an argument. This isn't a good time to be dramatic, despite my fear of being judged, I have to come clean. I wished it'd happen another time...a time when we're all out of the hospital safely. I feel I'm put on the spot and so divided. Sam knows this, yet he's...
"We have a stalker," Sam admits flatly.
"A what?!" My mom breaks her silence with a loud exclaim.
I swallow hard, feeling my palms beading with sweat. "We were followed here from New York...Sam and I weren't sure of this. We thought we lost the trail."
My dad eyes me and Sam, shocked. "How long has this been going on?"
"Is this why you two came here?" My mom interrogates.
My mind aches from the questions, not ready to answer them. "This happened after we planned to visit...we didn't mean to bring this shit along. It's my fault." The waterworks come on, the shaking legs, and fidgeting....something I did only as a kid. My body trembles, heat radiates my skin like a fever. My heartbeat goes irregular.
"It's not..." Sam dismisses, catching me off guard. Here he goes again with this bullshit; it is my doing! What does he mean...I stole money and got the damn hit put out?? How is it not- "In the city, homophobia isn't a joke, some random guy didn't like us together, so he sent threats and tailed us." He lies.
My parents share a long stare...translating something to one another. "Did you two file a restraining order?" My mom furrows her brows intensely.
"I-" My voice cuts off.
"No...we just wanted to get away, nothing legal has been put into play."
"You need a gun." My dad recommends.
"I packed a 45." Sam soothes Phil.
"No...I mean a big one, a shotgun, that'll scare that piece of shit off!"
My mom studies me, unlike my dad, who's, all macho right now. Fix my face...fix my face, I look uninformed of what Sam stated, she'll notice. I change my expression to a blank slate, not sure what else to replace it with. "I wanted to wait." My body shakes against my command.
Sam shares a troubled look with me, no longer in an act but in transparency. "They need to know."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
