I send Dewey a small wave as he pulls out of my driveway, heading to who knows where. Sighing I unlock my front door, instantly taking my shoes off at the door. Well, more like kicking them off of me. Following that I let out another sigh, stretching at all the aches that found themselves in my shoulders. Slowly as I make my way upstairs I slowly unbutton my jeans, just wanting to get into something more comfortable. Sitting in jeans for too long can make you do unthinkable jeans like just rip them off!
Once I was in my room I dress in some shorts and a tank top, feeling so much better than before. Throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper, I flop on my bed. Cars go by outside, making me feel alone. I felt sort of crowded in my room like everything is finally weighing down on me. My first night alone without my little buddy and it pains me. Letting out a small whimper, I crawl under my blankets, letting the weight take over me. For all that I care I could suffocate myself and kill myself with just a plush blanket.
Without even realizing it, sleep overcomes me quickly. Probably with all of the stress that I just can't come to terms with. Honestly, I'm happy that sleeping is easier. Thought it was going to be the other way around.
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Picking my head up I found my head smushed under my blankets. There was a weight on my bed that was something other than me, close to my feet. For a second I just sat there, not wanting to make a move to let the other thing know I am awake.
Taking the element of surprise, I flop the blankets from over my head. SItting up I find the culprit of the weight on my bed. Staring back at me menacingly was Chewie, my little buddy that I thought died. He just sat there, angry that I woke him up from his slumber.
"Chewie," I say shocked and still thinking I am asleep. "Please punch me if it is a dream."
Chewie just continues to stare at me, occasionally he would blink, but there was no punch that I asked for. Taking a risk I sit closer to him, feeling his head. So if this was real Chewie was alive and that his captor had to be around here. From what I know is that Ghostface took him, yet returned him. Do serial killers even return their victims?
My hand graze Chewie's face as I look at the time, 4:37 am. So from the few hours, I was asleep the killer decided to waltz into my house, my locked house, and return my dog. Getting up, I tiptoe to the door to my bedroom, peaking out to see if I notice anything out of place. Behind me, Chewie lets out a whine to let me know that he wants to go back to bed. Laughing I shut my bedroom door before cuddling up to the dog, happy that he has returned.
Sorry for the smol chapter.
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The New Girl
Fanfiction(Y/n) is a sweet girl, excited to try out a new city. While everything felt so right and comforting, a darker presence overlooked her. With new friends, a beautiful home, and her trusty companion at her side; what could go wrong?
