Chapter 13: <p>incriminating evidence</p>
An eerie feeling spread all over my body as I got off my scooter in the driveway of the apartment. I looked around as I lit my cigarette. A couple was walking down the street past my house. I waved at them as I recognised them as the friendly old couple that lived next door.
“Nice evening for a stroll,” I said to them. They nodded and came up to me. We had a short conversation. It was just idle chitchat, but it was great to get some normality back into my life. They didn’t even mention the incident. I was happy about that. As I turned to enter the house they asked about the bruise around my eye. I didn’t easily bruise, so I was surprised that I had gotten a black eye.
“Oh, I just fell down the stairs… at Chris’ place. Nothing to worry about,” I smiled meekly.
They sent me a suspicious glance before saying goodnight and walking off. I watched them as they entered their apartment, only a couple houses down from mine.
I sucked at the end of my cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on in for a while.
I entered the house to find it in complete darkness. This made me relax, as I knew I had turned the lights off before I went to school. I didn’t lock the door this time. I had calmed down enough to not worry about an unlocked door. The light switch was next to the door, so I quickly found it and proceeded to enter the kitchen to find some orange juice. In the freezer I found a tub of ice cream. I deserved it after the day I’d had.
The living room was still dark, but there was one bright light coming from the computer screen. I went up to it to check if I had forgotten to turn if off. The sight that met me was quite shocking.
The screen was blue with lines of text. All in white and black. It didn’t look like an Internet browser, so I had no clue what it was. I sat down with my juice and ice cream to look at what my computer had done. Maybe it had started downloading updates and ran into some issues. It had happened before. My computer was an old piece of crap, but I loved it to death. My family had even thought of buying me a new one as I started university, but I had protested loudly.
The contents of the site mad my skin crawl. It was the first indication that something was wrong, very wrong. The lines of text weren’t codes, as I originally thought. They were lines of information. Information about me. I could see everything for full name to bank account balance. Stuff I didn’t even know, like what day I was born, stood there in big letters. I scrolled down. It was page upon page of information about me. I had heard computers knew almost all our information, but could it really be this bad? I stared at the clock. It was almost nine o’clock. Was it too late to call Scott? I needed to tell him about this weird thing that had happened. I continued scrolling down the page.
I froze when I saw a picture of a white brunette sitting on an even whiter scooter. Her red and white helmet covered most of her face, but I’d recognise that scooter anywhere. I continued scrolling through the gallery of images. One picture was of me in a parking lot, another of me casually walking down the street, one of me by France’s petrol station. I got sick when I saw pictures of me and Chris having sex on the settee. Someone must’ve been standing right by the window to take those shots.
This wasn’t just a harmless prank anymore. Someone had been inside my house and put this onto my computer. It was a threat.
Further down I found me schedule. It said when I went to school, what time I went to work, when I came home. Absolutely everything you could imagine.
“There is no way in hell,” I mumbled to myself. “There is no way in hell anyone has taken all those pictures without me noticing.”
I ran to lock the door. As I reached it I noticed a lot of scratches around the lock. I will not be afraid, I said to myself as I frantically tried to lock it. It didn’t want to lock properly. Something was jammed inside the lock. Scared to look inside the keyhole, I tried to put my finger into it. Obviously that didn’t work, but I felt something unusual inside the keyhole. I ran to my bedroom to find the baseball bat. I was so scared I almost pissed myself. The trees in the garden were dancing in the breeze and casting scary shadows around the living room. I sat down and dialled Scott’s number.
He answered after a couple of rings.
“Onila?”
“I’m in my flat. Someone has been her. The lock is jammed from the inside. Please come, Scott,” I begged. I would not be afraid: The biggest lie I ever told myself.
“I’m on my way,” he almost shouted. “Do me a favour and get out of there. See if you can lock the place from the outside. Will you do that for me, Oni?” He didn’t usually call me Oni, so I understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Go to your neighbours, or something. Just get out of the apartment. You’re safer on the streets where you can scream if something happens.” His words weren’t reassuring.
“Do you have your baseball bat with you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I sobbed.
“Ok good. Listen Onila; don’t go into your room, or the bathroom or any other room to grab something. Just get out on the streets. I’m ten minutes away from you. Just wait it out, I’m sure nothing will happen,” though he tried to sound calming, his voice was panicky.
I hung up and waited for a couple of seconds. Scott was probably right, but I didn’t want to go outside. If the Staring-man, and I was sure this was the Staring-man’s doing, was still in the apartment, he could jump out from his hiding spot as I went to the door. Then again, why hadn’t he done it as I tried to lock the door before? I was so scared. I would not be afraid. I was so freaking scared. My heart pounded against my ribcage. It felt like it was trying to break free.
As I heard something scratch against my kitchen window, I had had enough. I ran out to the street, not even bothering to try and lock the door behind me. As I came to the middle of the street, I didn’t know what to do. I looked around to see if I could see anyone. Suspicious or not, I needed someone. There were no one there, and that made me want to scream. I ran up and down the streets a few times, hoping to find someone brave enough to go inside my house with me. But no one came.
It took Scott about fifteen minutes to arrive. I ran up to him and hugged him tight.
“Hi,” I could hear the worried smile in his voice. I said nothing, I just sobbed. He let me go, and pulled out the gun. He then gave me his baton and told me to stick close to him. He pulled on some latex gloves while still holding the gun. It frightened me how good he was with that piece of death.
I stayed behind him as we entered the flat. Scared to death, but a little safer now that Scott was here. He sent the scratches on the door a worried glance.
“Give me the key to the flat,” Scott demanded. He tried to lock it from the inside, but it was still jammed. Then he tried from the outside. It worked. The lock clicked. He opened the door again and stepped inside. We looked through every room. Even the cupboard and the small storeroom. There was no one in the apartment.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said. I sat down by the kitchen table as he looked at the kitchen window. The bolts were detached. I got a shiver down my spine as Scott showed me the bolts. The window was closed, but it was easy to close it from the outside. And a small person could easily get in and out of the kitchen window. I had even used that as an escape route when Jehovah’s witnesses were banging on the door and looking through the front windows.
“There are strong sings of forced entry. Both on the front door and on the window.” He called the police station and told them about the situation. He did it on the anonymous emergency-line so that they wouldn't know he was spending time with the witness. As he talked he deepened his voice so he wouldn’t be recognised by the operator.
“There has been a break-in at 11, Evergreen Boulevard. No, we don’t see anything missing. The culprit got away through the window. Ok, great. Bye.”
We went into the living room. I was ready to show him my computer. As we entered the room, I saw a man standing in the garden, looking inside the window. I had never seen the man before. He was wearing a black hooded sweater. His hood was on, but didn’t cover his face. I could see his handsome face with stubbles and noticeable, green eyes.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered. I clenched my fists around the baton and ran out of the house. Scott followed me. I think he had seen the man in the window. I ran down to where I saw the man. He was gone, but I continued running down the street.
As I came to the crossroads, I stopped to catch my breath. He was gone into the dead of night.
“You saw him?” I asked. Scott nodded.
“We should scout the area.” I didn’t know about that. The man was probably long gone by now. I doubted he would stick around for us to find him. I heard a car rouse it’s motor and speed away. I turned just in time to see a white van disappear into the night.
“Fuck!” Scott screamed and kicked the dirt. The lights in the old couple’s apartment went on and I saw the husband look out at us. He angrily put his finger to his lips and closed the blinds.
“It’s fine,” I said shakily. Scott looked at me. He grabbed my face and closed in. For a second I thought he would kiss me. Then he stoked my hurt eye.
“Did that man do this to you?” he asked. His voice was freezing cold.
“No, he didn’t. I had never seen that man before.”
“Who did it then?”
I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him the truth? Was domestic violence punishable? Probably.
“Chris,” it slipped out of me. I undoubtedly shouldn’t have said that, I thought.
“The nerve of that guy!” Scott shouted again. I looked over to the old couple’s house. They didn’t react this time.
“It doesn’t matter.”708Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMagpAFjK9a
“It sure does. I’ll arrest him!”
“Let’s not get into it tonight. I’m beat-up and tired, and I was almost suffocating from fear.”
“Fine. But I’m not letting you stay at that flat tonight, and you sure as hell aren’t going to Chris’. You’re coming with me.”
“Aye, officer,” I said and mock-saluted him. He rolled his eyes, but lightened up. He then proceeded to handcuff me, just for show.
“Kinky, I like it,” I jokingly said. I could swear I saw him blush. We went into the flat to get my computer and some clothes. I felt much better now, and as soon as I got into his car, I had forgotten about the whole thing. My face didn’t hurt anymore and I felt so secure in Scott’s company.
I caught myself looking for the white van as we drove to Scott’s flat. I would not be afraid.
