Illusory

Michael [Chapter One]

Authors Note: Previously was the prolouge. This is a totally different character, just to avoid confusion! Meet Tessa. [; Enjoy! -Rockets and Stars; Hannah

 

“Ha, sure,” I snorted. The seven year old, blonde haired, rosy-cheeked girl standing in front of me that I call my sister Rose was tapping her foot impatiently in front of me.

“Tessaaaa,” she whined, dragging out the ‘A.’ “Pleasepleaseplease?!”

“Ha, no!” I turned back to my phone as it buzzed insistently in my hand.

“Tessa! Abby and Jake and Maddie are going to be there!”

“Tess, you’re seven! You cannot order me around nor can you make me do anything I don’t want too. I’m in charge, remember? So no bowling alley.”

“Hmph!” I heard her stomp away, back up the spiral staircase, and into her room. For an inexperienced seven year old, she sure was bossy.

 

I rolled my eyes and looked at my phone. Two new messages, yay. Note the sarcasm.

The first one was from Derek. Derek was my boyfriend, and let me just say, that boy was fine!

 

I smiled to myself as I read the message.

 

‘KEVIN G!’ A long-standing joke of ours, since I made him come over and watch Mean Girls from beginning to end one night. He had complained the entire time before-hand, and when it finally came on, he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. I texted him back before looking at the next message.

 

‘Hello Tessa,’ it read. For some reason, I randomly got the chills. I stared at it again, then checked the sender. A random jumble of numbers. It wasn’t an area code from around here. My phone buzzed again, but I couldn’t seem to react. I finally hit ‘Reply.’

 

‘Who’s this?’ I checked my messages again and ignored the smiley face from Derek, biting my perfectly manicured nails as I waited for the next text message from this unknown person. I looked up at the television just as my phone vibrated. I almost jumped out of my shoes. The message had been foreboding, scary, and I wasn’t sure if it should’ve been.

 

‘I am unimportant, but you Tessa…you can save the world. My name is Michael. You don’t know me, so don’t try to remember. I’ll be at your house in about five minutes.’

 

He was coming to my house?! Who was this guy?! Who did he think he was?! This internet creeper was coming over my house to what – rape me? Talk to me? What?! There was a knock on the door. I leaped out, ran as fast as I could to the lock, and turned it. I deadbolted the door, then ran around the bottom floor, frantically locking all the windows. As soon as I was sure all of them were locked, I remembered my balcony on the second floor. There was a trellis below it. Could this creepy guy climb it?

 

As I turned to rush up the stairs, I screamed. Standing there was a teenager. In the middle of my living room was a complete stranger. The door was still dead bolted. The lock still turned. The windows still shut. Where had this guy come from? I grabbed the closest thing to me – which happened to be the fireplace broom – and raised it above my head.

 

“Who are you?” I asked shakily.

 

“Michael.” He said calmly. “Didn’t you get my text?” He gestured to the silver device poking out of my clenched fist.

 

“I d-don’t know,” I said. “Did I?” ‘Michael’ rolled his eyes. “How did you get it?” I asked. He stared at me and said simply, “Like this.”

 

Then Michael disappeared.