Hunting me

11

Mom didn't allow me to leave her side for a few days. She would always be watching me, worried something bad would happen to me. It was a natural reaction, but it was suffocating me.

Since that day, we hadn't enter our house. Charlie had stayed at mine's for a week after Vinnie's death, so her parents, oblivious to our estrangement, had very kindly offer us a place to stay until the police considered it was safe for us to return. There was a police car parked outside every hour for three days, then only for the night.

Their house was big enough to have a more than a guest room. The one I had stepped in had an indoor bathroom, and a balcony facing the North Forrest. As soon as I had seen it, I had felt relived. At least I wouldn't need to worry about leaving to hunt without people noticing it. But Mom had other plans.

"¿What side do you prefer?" She said, looking at the bed.

"¿Why are you asking me that?" I answered back, confused.

"We're sleeping in the same room."

"No we aren't." I said too quickly.

"Yes. We. Are." Her words were full of anger, but her face was blank.

"But Mom..." I started

"No buts. I won't feel safe if you're not next to me. There's some psycho out there who wants to hurt you, Eve."

"¿Why are you assuming I'm the target? ¿Maybe the psycho is after you?" I said, tapping a finger against my cross arms.

"Complain all you want, I couldn't care less. We're sleeping in the same room, end of discussion." She said, and entered the bathroom.

Even if she had decided to take a very long bath, it would had been impossible for me to leave and hunt. The moment she noticed my absence, the whole police force would be sent after me. It wouldn't look good on me to be found covered in animal's blood. I wasn't a messy hunter, I always found a way to clean myself, but it was too risky.

The days passed, every single one of them feeling like a year. After day three I started to feel weak. I looked sick, and felt slightly dizzy. By day five I was very close to ripping someone's throat. Avoiding human food had been a disaster. Soon I ran out of excuses, and had to force myself to swallow a few bites, barely hiding the nausea. It was easy to blame all to the attack. They wouldn't question it, or talk about it.

Charlie's parents and Mom saw me as a scared little girl, but I could feel Charlie wasn't buying my lies. Her eyes were full of suspicion, even if I was telling the truth by saying I had no idea who the aggressor was. Half the truth, as I had two suspects, but not enough evidence to make up my mind.

It was most likely my creator, wanting something more from me, because apparently, killing me wasn't enough. But at the same time, I didn't know him well enough to know whether he would do something like this. Something so reckless. I had gone through my memories once and again, trying to find more pieces of him. But there was nothing.

I had only seen him once in my life, the day of the turning. He was around, talking to people who's names I couldn't remember. Almost the whole teenage population was there, celebrating two more birthdays, apart from mine. I barely knew the guests, just friends of friends. There also were many people from outside of town. I once asked my friends about him, but not one had gave me a description that matched mine. They all remember me being gone for less of an hour, with some random guy. Then I had returned and drank and laugh with them. I didn't remember that at all, as hours of memories where gone, or stolen.

And then, there was Eric. I had seen him once, outside, waiting for Bailey. Tom, Nate, Minnie and her had come over, putting all behind, logically worried about me. Charlie had also been in the same room, but no word had left her lips.

I had excused myself by going to the bathroom, instead going to the library. I knew the main window  looked at the  the street, just where Eric was. I knew something about him wasn't right. Maybe because I hadn't seen him or smell him for so long, part of the infatuation was gone. Catching my stalker worried me more.

I grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote: "We need to talk." I didn't add my phone number, Mom had taken it away from me the moment we had entered this house. I opened the window, making noice. He turned in my direction, frowning once he saw me. I gesture him to come closer, but he didn't move. So I had no option but to turn my letter into a wrinkled ball, and throw it at him. I saw it hit him in the chest, and closed the window, hoping that would be enough.

Finally, at day six, I convinced Mom to go downstairs for dinner on her own. I told her I wasn't feeling wright. She looked at me one last time, opened her mouth, but then closed it and nodded.

The moment I heard her join downstairs's conversation, I jumped out of bed. I didn't have time to change out of my pijamas, so I just grabbed a dark brown hoodie, put shoes on, and left.

Jumping out of the balcony would make too much noise, so I carefully climbed the back of the house, trying to land in a quiet way. I knew the kitchen table didn't face the backyard, so I started running as fast as my weak body allowed me. Maybe it was the risk of getting caught, or the freedom of finally leaving the house, but soon I felt the fatigue gone.

I had never liked the North Forrest. It wasn't as wild as the other, and many people would jogg or walk there dogs there. Living closer to the South one, I had never even come close to it after the turning . But this time, I couldn't take the risk of prolonging my small trip. I wasn't very familiar with the landscape, so I didn't have time to get to know it. Any prey would do.

A strong scent caught my attention, and a few steps later, I found a rabbit burrow. I was too hungry to care about morals or fairness, or to stop. Only when no animal was left, I realized what I had done. I stepped back, looking at my bloodstained hands. My clothes were okay, but I knew my whole chin was dark red.

Then I panicked, and looked for any source of water. I was still hungry, I had risked so much for almost nothing. I passed trees and more trees, but not a place when I could clean myself. I didn't really liked the taste or smell of animal's blood, which made the whole thing worst. But I didn't want to try human blood, so there was no other alternative.

Finally, a small creek, similar to the ones I used in the South Forrest appeared. I dropped to my knees and started cleaning myself. I needed to be fast, or the blood would dry, making it more difficult to remove. I examinated my hands, they looked more or less like before, and when I passed a hand over my face, nothing came.

Only then I was able to sit and see straight. I didn't had a watch on, so I couldn't tell much time had passed since I had left the house. I needed a few seconds to think about everything calmly, only then I would return. Something about the stalker/killer situation didn't make sense, but I couldn't say exactly what.