I’ve only ever worked to make them proud.
Now they’ll think all their sacrifices were wasted on a monster.
I don’t notice the black car following me until a few houses down.
Credit: Feiwel & Friends (2)
I swallow, walking faster.
I’m probably being paranoid, I tell myself, glancing at the car window.
As I push the keycode into the pad and rush through, I hear the car engine switch off.
I unlock the front door and dive inside, slamming it shut, sliding both bolts across.
As I watch, there’s a distant movement behind the blurry panes of the door.
They can’t get through the gates.
They can’t get through the gates.
I scream, backing farther down the hallway.
I yell, sobbing as I watch the door.
Not that I should be surprised.
They’re usually at the hospital when I get home at this time.
Hardly ever home at all.
“Someone, help .
I whisper the last part, voice breaking.
Again, no answer.
I watch as the figure stands there, watching me.
It falls to the ground as the metal flap shuts.
I don’t move.
I move toward the door slowly, snatching the envelope up and opening it.
It is filled with Polaroid shots.
The first picture is of my house from inside the gates .
The next is a zoomed-in photo of me through the window as I stand in my bedroom.
The next is of me again, tugging my shirt off.
The next, I’m in my underwear, the photo taken through the gap in my curtains .
I shakily pick up the next Polaroid.
I’m in a towel, just out of the shower this time.
I already know what’s coming.
I let out a breath as I pick up the final photo.
All will be revealed .
I’m ready to have a ball, are you?
Aces
This isn’t just texts and high school pranks.
This is now all of my deepest secrets.
This is my house.
Where I thought I was safe.
Aces must have gotten my address from the central administrationsystem.
But I have no idea how they got through the gate.
I lookaround my empty foyer.
I move toward the stairs.
It’s so quiet, my footsteps echo.
If a tree drops in a forest and no one is there, does it make asound?
Does she even make a sound?
It feels like I’m reliving the same nightmare over and over, and itwill never stop.
My phone buzzes again.
There’s more where all of this came from, Chiamaka.
And I’mnot afraid to share.Aces
What does Aces want from us?
What is the end goal?
It feels likeeverything is out of control; I am out of control.
Sunday feels so far away, but I don’tknow what else to do.
I go to my phone and watch as my fingers hover over the9and1.
But I can’t call the police.
However bad it gets.
So I open my contact list andscroll down.
I hesitate for a heartbeat before hitting the call button.
