•The Killer• | 2

58 10 9
                                        

Hi guys! Once again, thanks for reading.

Feel free to comment. I love comment sections, I basically live in them while I'm reading stories.

Anyways, enjoy the story!

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Boarding the plane was a catastrophe. I left the house late and had to tell the taxi driver to turn around because I forgot my phone charger. Then, when I entered the airport, I had absolutely no clue where to go or who to talk to. Eventually, a nice old janitor offered to be my guide.

I walked down the plane to my seat and frowned when I saw that my seat-mate is holding an ugly, growling chihuahua. Worst of all, my seat was next to the window, so I had to scoot past the lady and the dog to sit. I can't say if the dog actually bit me, but I can say that it tried really hard to.

When I got more comfortable in my seat, I turn my body towards the window and cover my ears with noise-cancelling earphones and allow myself to drift off. Not soon after, I'm pulled from my daydream when the phone on my lap buzzes.

My heart leaps when the message is from my best friend, Moe. She had moved with her mother back to her hometown not long ago, which is luckily a short drive from Everette.

Moe My Toe: Omg. I just found out some crazy shit about Everette

Me: Oh shit. Please tell

Moe My Toe: I cant really tell you over text, but let's meet up when you get here. It's batshit.

Me: Can I get a clue? I'm bored and this plane ride still has three hours to go

Moe My Toe: Okay...theres a serial killer on the loose in that town and you'll be in some hot water if you don't follow every single one of the town's rules

My heart drops. Rules? Killer? So now I have to live with my estranged mother and follow a bunch of rules because there's a killer running around. Oh god. I almost text my dad to see if he knew about the murderer, but I decided not to. I didn't want him to lose his job over me. If I told him, I'm pretty sure he'd hop on a plane straight to Oregon. I chuckle, trying to wipe away my toppling fears.

Me: oh shit Moe. If I get killed...

Moe My Toe: honestly, you prob would

Me: honestly, I don't know if that would be a good or bad thing if I did

Moe took a little longer to respond this time and I started getting anxious. Text-talking was a lot worse than phone-talking because I can never know if the other person is interested or not in the conversation. But then I see three dots pop up.

Moe My Toe: did you talk to your mom yet?

I hesitate to answer.

Me: no lol

I'm not laughing inside.

Moe My Toe: that's fucked up. my mom said that we'll pick you up from the airport. She doesn't trust your mom

I text back okay, put my phone down, and bite my nails. It's a new habit I've been doing lately and it's not making me any less anxious.

It's crazy how I don't even have my mother's phone number. When she left, it's like she took on a different identity. She changed her number and email, quit her job, and even changed her name.

I haven't contacted yet, even as I'm on my way to see her. The only reason my father was able to get in touch with her is because Moe's mom went from fashion designer to detective and stalked my mother until she agreed to talk to my dad.

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