𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙾𝚍𝚍𝚜 | 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚒𝚍

Delilah

"Your usual," a bright blonde barista announced to the brunette on the other side of the counter.

However, said brunette seemed a little distressed going through her purse. Her hand rummaged for something inside, only stopping when the barista called out to her again.

"Delilah, your order!"

Delilah Carrero looked up from her bag and saw the barista waving her warm latte in the air. "Sorry!" She hurried up to the counter. "I just realized I forgot my phone at home."

The barista chuckled. "It's alright but will you be without your phone?"

Delilah rolled her eyes while the barista laughed again. "Oh ha, ha. Of course I will be...but it just so happens that I'm going home anyways. I've had a long day." She made a show of her right arm that held several bags.

"Right," the barista said. Her attention was momentarily drawn to the television hanging on the wall behind Delilah. "Oh, bloody murder."

Her comment made Delilah turn around to see a pretty blonde woman on the screen giving a report about whatever crime had just happened. Delilah didn't pay much attention to it. She knew she shouldn't. It was no good for her.

"I have to run," Delilah waved goodbye at the barista and hurried out. That was a lie. If she stuck around to listen to that report, her mind would go crazy.

She came up to her car and quickly climbed in but instead of going somewhere else to distract herself, she chose home. If she decided to go anywhere else, it might have a television and that wouldn't bode well for her mind.

"Home," she decided and turned the wheel to the left, forcing her car in the direction of her street. No way in hell was she turning somewhere else. "House, house, house. You're going to that house and nowhere else." She repeated that line over and over, drilling it into her head just like every time she saw a news-report like the one in the coffee shop.

She made a turn into a nice suburb street. Immediately she noticed the streets were empty. The usual children weren't out and it was well past three. The chatty mothers weren't even out sipping their wine or being nosy. And God were they nosy.

"Where is everyone...?" she mumbled under her breath. As soon as she neared the stop sign leading into her street, she saw the bright yellow cautionary tape blocking the road and the cops to accompany it. It was impossible to get through. "What the hell?" She had no choice but to make a turn and park in the first spot she saw.

Delilah pulled out her things — she wasn't going to make the trip back until tomorrow when she had to go for work — and crossed the street. She was slow when she walked down the block, her eyes quickly scanning the scene until she would find the unfortunate souls in body bags. She found the spot eventually...and when she did her entire body froze.

The house.

Delilah's big brown eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. The freckles sprinkled on her face were stretched with her shock. Her arms fell to her sides, letting her bags drop to the ground in the process. Only her purse's strap remained but it was dangling around her elbow. "N-n-n-n-n-n-n-no! That's my house!" she exclaimed.

Some of the neighbors outside had already come to know that information and now that they had the owner of the house, they watched like hawks.

Delilah ran towards her house as fast as she could but was, unsurprisingly, stopped by one of the officers behind the tape.

"Sorry ma'am," he had a raised hand in front of her. "No one passes through."

"But I live here!" Delilah frantically gestured to her house being entered and exited by complete strangers. "That's my house!"