Everyday was a struggle and after a week I finally made up my mind. I told Liam to stay away from me before he got killed. He didn't like this one bit, but he understood the situation all too clearly and accepted my decision. He promised he would wait for me, wait for the police to capture the guy, and we sealed this agreement with a final kiss. He gave me a spare key to his house and told me to keep it with me, in case of an emergency.

I'd cried the rest of the day, heartbroken and torn by insomnia. Since then, I would lay in bed every night cuddling a plush tiger Liam had gifted me on our six-month anniversary. The key he had given me dangled around my neck from a chain, the cold metal comforting against my skin—a reminder of his promise.

~*~

I woke up in the middle of the night. I looked down and noticed the sheets had been pulled over me. My parents must have decided to let me sleep, considering I rarely do that anymore. I stretched and swallowed. Damn, my throat was dry. My eyes darted over my desk, but I seemed to have forgotten to take a glass of water with me. I sighed as I got up; I had to take a piss at any rate. Thinking about my sore throat, I thought of going downstairs and making myself a nice hot glass of milk with honey.

But, first things first. Heart pounding in my throat, I walked over to my window and opened the curtain a bit. The small red light in the corner from the security camera provided only a little comfort. The last times he got caught it proved fruitless because his full black attire included a balaclava. I double-checked the deadbolts before closing the curtains and feeling secure enough to leave—and most importantly, to come back into a safe space.

I licked my lips and snuck out of my room. I quietly passed my parents' bedroom; they slept with their door open since the assault. My dad was snoring softly and I entered the bathroom without waking them. After relieving myself I slipped downstairs as softly as I could. 

I flicked on the light in the living room and froze.

In the kitchen stood a shadow, just as frozen solid as I was. Time slowed down as adrenaline flushed my system and my heart sped up. The moment I started to turn around so did the shadow. 

I rushed into the hallway and undid the various deadbolts on the front door. My heart pounded painfully in my chest and my mind raced. The fear of a hand on my shoulder before I could open the door made me tremble and I'm sure I would've pissed myself had I not emptied my bladder a mere minute ago. A wave of euphoria mixed with the terror as I managed to finally throw the door open. The burglar alarm started to chime before a single toe had even touched the pavement. 

I flew across the street, driven by the pure dread of feeling another blade enter my back. I collided with the door across the street and pounded on it a few times before turning and bolting away. No time. I didn't dare look behind me but I was certain he was right on my heels. Liam's key dangled from my neck, slapping against my chest, and it gave me an idea. If I made it to the back, I might have enough distance between the killer and me to actually get inside safely.

I saw the low fence of Liam's backyard come into view and, using my hands for the extra lift, jumped over it with relative ease. I hurried to the backdoor and yanked the key from the chain. My hands were surprisingly steady while my heart pounded so loud I couldn't even hear if I was being followed or not. The door unlocked and I stumbled inside. With all the power I could muster, I threw it shut behind me and bolted through the house.

I didn't hear it slam. Fuck. Did it not close or did I just not hear over my frantic heartbeat?

I couldn't afford to look back. Didn't dare. I had to find safety. 

I rushed up the stairs all the way to the attic where Liam slept, the loud chime of the burglar alarm across the street resounding in my ears. Out of all the nightmares I'd had none came close to the fear I felt now. He was probably right behind me. God, please don't let him catch me. I tried to climb the stairs even faster, the sheer terror of a hand grabbing my ankle further fuelling my already intense panic. 

Of course, my brain took this chance to remind me of all the horror movies where the fleeing victim got their tendons sliced.

I wanted to scream, to call for Liam to get his baseball bat so he could bash this man's brains in. Call him so he could save me, but all my lungs could do now was breathe and provide my already screaming muscles and overworked heart with not even half the oxygen they craved. I had no air to spare, no time to scream. I stumbled onto the landing and into the middle of the brightly lit room.

His bed was empty.

He wasn't in his room.

Exhaustion, fear, and now this... My trembling legs were ready to cave.

The burglar alarm was still audible and I knew Liam must have heard it, but where was he? Had he run down and out the front door? Had I missed him?

I felt someone standing behind me and all the hairs on my body stood erect. My heart painfully constricted and I had trouble breathing. I wanted to believe it was Liam, but I knew better.

Strong hands slithered across my stomach and I had to fight to not throw up while bile rose in the back of my throat. The man turned me around and gently pressed my head into his shoulder. 

I was too stunned to protest. Too weak from my flight. He smelled like outside, a scent I enjoyed. One more thing he'd ruined. I hated him even more now.

 "I want you, Evalyn," he whispered into my ear.

My eyes closed. I was sure I was going to pass out. Would I ever wake up or would he kill me?

His hands slipped underneath my shirt and a new rush of adrenaline caused me to tense up. They went up my back until they found the scars he had created. He caressed them and I wanted to leave my skin then and there. A loud sob escaped my throat. 

"I got you, Evalyn," he said as he pressed me against his body.

I wanted gone. Just gone. 

Suddenly I felt his fingers dig into my flesh. A gurgling gasp crossed his lips and, finally startled into action, I tried to take a step back. His hold on me weakened but he began to slump forward. It took me all of my remaining strength to not fall to the ground with him on top of me. His hands slipped away from underneath my shirt and I jumped away as he fell to the floor. 

A large kitchen knife stuck out of his back.

I looked up and saw Liam standing there, his face ashen and his eyes open wide. I noticed the burglar alarm had been replaced by the sound of police sirens closing in. My gaze dropped to the dead—or dying? Fuck, I hoped he was dead—man on the floor. I couldn't believe what I was seeing; was this really who had stabbed me and stalked me? 

I finally allowed my knees to buckle and fell to the floor. To say I felt exhausted and drained was an understatement. I turned my attention to Liam once again. His eyes were blank and he just stood there, unmoving. "Liam?"

His gaze shifted to meet mine and his lips curled up into a twitchy grin. "I want to know who tormented you." His voice was hoarse and cracked. He slowly took a step towards me, then another. I noticed he was trembling. He walked around the body, careful to not step into the blood that was soaking into the carpet. 

He bent down, pulled the hood away and dropped the balaclava onto the man's lower back. He grabbed a handful of short, brown hair and lifted the head, revealing the man's face to me. I was unable to do anything but stare at the middle-aged white guy, his dark eyes wide-open and lifeless.

"Do you recognise him?" Liam asked with a slight tremble in his voice.

I just sat there, nailed to the floor while the puddle of blood slowly expanded my way, unable to move as tears streamed down my face. I felt like I had lost my mind.

Liam released the head and walked over. He knelt next to me and pulled me into his arms. Finally allowing myself to feel safe, to release, I bawled. It was over. It was finally fucking over.

I tried to calm myself as I wanted to speak to Liam, but there was a commotion downstairs. The police were coming. Shit. What if they took Liam? Surely they'd see this as self-defence, right? I took a few deep breaths and gathered all my remaining strength to whisper two words of great importance to me. 

"Thank you." My voice cracked and was hoarse, but it would do. 

Liam trembled and hugged me tightly, dampening his shivers with my own. "I love you," he whispered.

I wanted to echo his words, but my body refused—it was simply too exhausted. All I could do anymore was just hold him and hope that was reply enough. I pressed my face into his neck, savouring his scent. He'd showered before bed. I loved that shampoo. I closed my eyes. God, how I just wanted to sleep. 

But branded into my mind's eye was the face of my stalker, his dead eyes staring out into the world. As relieved as I was that my nightmare was over, I couldn't help but wonder what his motive had been. Why me? I couldn't recall having seen him before in my entire life.

~*~