eternal, everlasting love. She had a deep insecurity of ending up just like her parents: bitter, and sure to be divorced. That thought was distracting, and then came the tapping of the rain. It ratted on the window, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. After trying tirelessly to focus she looked around the room, restless. Laura admired the no-doubt Egyptian cotton bedsheets and noticed a piece of folded paper on them.
It was just beyond the cushions, taunting and scaring her. Laura was amazed at how a sheet of paper could provoke such strong anxiety. She immediately flashed to the folded monstrosity that had been discovered atop the candy bowl, and it had not been pleasant. Hesitantly, and not quite sure why, she crept to the note. Each hand trembled as she scooped it up. Loins tensed as she unravelled it.
'Did you really think Dr Anderson was behind this? Or stupid little brats? Guess again blondie.'
Laura's legs finally gave way as she collapsed, back thudding against the dresser as it tipped with her weight. Wash cloths and various beauty products streamed from the top, tumbling in mid-air and scattering on the carpet. The blow should have caused pain, but the apparent psychopath stalker was a great pain-reliever. Laura's heart hammered heavily, sending a booming pulse to bang on her ear drums. Then, averting her attention, a phone rang. It wasn't Laura's mobile; it was another phone at the side of the bed, resting on a tiny table. It bleeped into the unnerving silence. Normally she wouldn't answer, but she wanted to let someone know of the troubles that had come to light. She sprang to the phone, vision blurry and mind foggy, praying that is was Dr Anderson ringing to check up on everything. Or even better still the police officer.
“Hello, hello, I need help,” Laura cried out before thinking. This was sure to instil panic in Dr Anderson. Okay, just relax, breathe. There was a pause, and then came the spine chilling breathing that she knew all too well, causing her stomach to drop.
“Did you like my note Laura?” the low, odd voice questioned.
Her whole mind was racing, spinning around a race track, a beat shaking her head. After this subsided it was as if she woke from a dream. A red mist clouding her sight as she came gradually from fogginess to lucidity. On the phone, with the man still breathing, having asked a horrifying question. She was clueless: threaten, beg, hang up?
“Who is this?” Laura began to sob, to her dismay.
Breathing.
“Please, stop this, I haven't done anything to you.”
Breathing.
“So you like romance novels?” he asked.
OH MY GOD! He saw me go into the library only a few minutes ago! Laura felt faint, propped against the small table, chest aching, gasping for breath.
“Rose are red, violets are blue.
At midnight tonight, I am going to butcher you.”
The phone went dead. Then adding to the overwhelming martyrdom, Laura glanced at the time on the phone. It was 11:30, she had half an hour to live.
Chapter 6
Laura tried, but couldn't move. Once again drawn into an imitation of the ice queen, ridden of movements, in the total definition of angst. After a few minutes of this terrifying numbness, she snapped from the initial trauma and had the presence of mind to dial 9-9-9.
“Hello, emergency services how may I direct your call?” a robotic sounding woman asked.
“I need to speak to Officer Thompson please,” she whimpered.
“One moment please,” then silence.
Silence had become Laura's worst nightmare. It was when the deepest darkest monsters surfaced and played out in her mind. Sound was a welcome distraction, but lack of any noise forced her to listen to the plaguing insecurities.
Until he spoke and brought interference, “Hello, Officer Thompson speaking.”
“Officer Thompson, it's Laura, the babysitter at the castle,” she was racked with nerves and shook uncontrollably as she spoke into the phone. Her voice
It was just beyond the cushions, taunting and scaring her. Laura was amazed at how a sheet of paper could provoke such strong anxiety. She immediately flashed to the folded monstrosity that had been discovered atop the candy bowl, and it had not been pleasant. Hesitantly, and not quite sure why, she crept to the note. Each hand trembled as she scooped it up. Loins tensed as she unravelled it.
'Did you really think Dr Anderson was behind this? Or stupid little brats? Guess again blondie.'
Laura's legs finally gave way as she collapsed, back thudding against the dresser as it tipped with her weight. Wash cloths and various beauty products streamed from the top, tumbling in mid-air and scattering on the carpet. The blow should have caused pain, but the apparent psychopath stalker was a great pain-reliever. Laura's heart hammered heavily, sending a booming pulse to bang on her ear drums. Then, averting her attention, a phone rang. It wasn't Laura's mobile; it was another phone at the side of the bed, resting on a tiny table. It bleeped into the unnerving silence. Normally she wouldn't answer, but she wanted to let someone know of the troubles that had come to light. She sprang to the phone, vision blurry and mind foggy, praying that is was Dr Anderson ringing to check up on everything. Or even better still the police officer.
“Hello, hello, I need help,” Laura cried out before thinking. This was sure to instil panic in Dr Anderson. Okay, just relax, breathe. There was a pause, and then came the spine chilling breathing that she knew all too well, causing her stomach to drop.
“Did you like my note Laura?” the low, odd voice questioned.
Her whole mind was racing, spinning around a race track, a beat shaking her head. After this subsided it was as if she woke from a dream. A red mist clouding her sight as she came gradually from fogginess to lucidity. On the phone, with the man still breathing, having asked a horrifying question. She was clueless: threaten, beg, hang up?
“Who is this?” Laura began to sob, to her dismay.
Breathing.
“Please, stop this, I haven't done anything to you.”
Breathing.
“So you like romance novels?” he asked.
OH MY GOD! He saw me go into the library only a few minutes ago! Laura felt faint, propped against the small table, chest aching, gasping for breath.
“Rose are red, violets are blue.
At midnight tonight, I am going to butcher you.”
The phone went dead. Then adding to the overwhelming martyrdom, Laura glanced at the time on the phone. It was 11:30, she had half an hour to live.
Chapter 6
Laura tried, but couldn't move. Once again drawn into an imitation of the ice queen, ridden of movements, in the total definition of angst. After a few minutes of this terrifying numbness, she snapped from the initial trauma and had the presence of mind to dial 9-9-9.
“Hello, emergency services how may I direct your call?” a robotic sounding woman asked.
“I need to speak to Officer Thompson please,” she whimpered.
“One moment please,” then silence.
Silence had become Laura's worst nightmare. It was when the deepest darkest monsters surfaced and played out in her mind. Sound was a welcome distraction, but lack of any noise forced her to listen to the plaguing insecurities.
Until he spoke and brought interference, “Hello, Officer Thompson speaking.”
“Officer Thompson, it's Laura, the babysitter at the castle,” she was racked with nerves and shook uncontrollably as she spoke into the phone. Her voice
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