All Yours

XIII

AURORA

Just complete darkness surrounds him. I jump in fright and let out a startled yelp, backing away to the nearest wall.

I click my phone on and redial 911 but before I get to the last one, the man at the end of the hall I'm assuming texts me, 'Don't.'

My thumb hovers over the one, as I debate whether to press it or not.

My thoughts are once again interrupted by the constant ringing of my microwave, indicating that my burrito is done heating up.

I stand there, looking up at the ceiling praying to the whoever above to get me out of this hostile situation.

My phone lights up and I see another text from the mysterious man.

UNKNOWN: Take out your burrito.

Oh heck no. My microwave is all the way across the kitchen, closer to the living room, which is closer to the hall accompanying a mysterious man who seems to be some kind of crazed psychopath.

I see the man take out his phone again and even though his screen seems bright, it still doesn't unmask the face hiding behind the hood.

I open the messaging app, awaiting his response.

UNKNOWN: I'm waiting.

I look back at him shaking my head profusely, too terrified to take even a step closer in his direction, but all he does is nod his head in response.

The ringing of the microwave starts again and I'm starting to want to take out the dang burrito to ease the ache forming behind my forehead.

Although I don't think it's the microwave causing the headache.

I take one step toward the microwave to test the man to see what he would do and he stays put.

The tilt of his head is noticed to the right almost in humor at my reluctance to walk straight to the microwave.

I sigh in relief as I take more steps, inching closer and closer to my destination.

Once I reach the microwave, I carefully latch onto the handle, while maintaining eye contact with the man or should I say man's hood, and take out the hot plate.

I advert my eyes for one second, to make sure I'm not tipping the plate and when I look back at the man, he's taking slow steps in my direction.

Too freaked out to think, I completely turn around and book it back to the other side of the kitchen behind the island, which I've deemed as my apparent "safe zone."

I turn around and he's stopped, right next to the microwave, standing still once again.

I see him reach into his pocket and take out his phone. Glancing at his hand, I notice multiple small tattoos littered all over his fingers and outer palm.

I see a large black rose detailed on the entirety of his outer palm, the stem twirling into the darkness of his sleeve. Oh. My. God.

It's the man I've been seeing all over the city! So now in this case I do know what he looks like.

Actually from what I remember, I never actually got to see the front side of him, which seems a little too coincidental in my opinion.