Escaped Criminal (Z.M.)

first encounter

It was a cold, winters night and I heard helicopters buzzing overhead my block in a circle. They must be searching for someone, or maybe even something. Perhaps a stolen vehicle, or even an escaped criminal.

I shudder at the thought. A criminal could be in the house next door for all I knew. What an eery thought. For all I know, he could be an axe-murderer or a cannibal. Once again, I tremble at the thought.

I hear footsteps on the floorboards of my house and I instantly freeze. Maybe if there is someone, they won't come in here if they don't hear me or hear any signs of life.

I recall every little detail that I remember to do in a situation of a rapist or an abductor.

Kick them in the balls, make them beg for mercy. I laugh at myself, wondering how that would be the first response to come to mind. A more modest approach, however, would be heel of the hand thrust upward, which if I'm lucky could break his nose leaving me time to escape.

I stop laughing when I hear creaks come closer. The hair on my arms rise, and I stop breathing, scared that if I do, I would be more likely to attract unnecessary attention from the criminal.

I shut my eyes tight, pulling my face into a grimace as tears slip out the corners of my eyes. I'm terrified.

Suddenly I feel arms pressed onto my shoulders, and I recoil out of horror. "Let go of me," I squeak in a smaller voice than intended. I hit something, or rather someone hard causing them to jump back.

I open my eyes and look behind me to see a man who appears to be in his early twenties. His hair is almost a jet black, and it is tied back in one of those hipster hairstyles. His face is pulled up in a smile, flashing his perfect white gnashes. He's wearing a black hoodie and trackies making it difficult to determine any other details about him.

He covers my mouth with his big hands, attempting to quieten my screams. "Shh," he coos. When I finally shut up he let's go.

"Sorry to frighten you," the guy chuckles, extending his hand. His voice is deep and has a British accent. However, the thing that distinguishes it is how it sounds like one from Northern-England. But that's unusual. We're not in England.

Warily, I shake it. For all I know, he could cut it off. But in the current situation, I shake it nevertheless. The likeliness of him holding a knife was little.

"Zayn," he introduces himself. I nod, gulping down a lump in my throat.

"Melanie-Rose," I spoke. "Melanie-Rose Shelbourne, but please, call me Melanie."

I don't know why I told him my full name. I had only just met him, but I feel like I already know him too well. For some strange reason I trusted him without knowing why. Maybe it was just because of his appearance. He didn't look dangerous.

"Nice to meet you Melanie-Rose," he smiles warmly, "Glad to have made your acquaintance."

I smile back, not wanting to appear rude.

It's extremely rare that an attractive male human would randomly walk into my house and simply make my acquaintance. This is, in fact my first encounter of the sort.

"What are you doing in my house, anyway?" I ask the guy, completely oblivious.

He shrugs his shoulders as if it's not a big deal with the fact there's a random man standing in my house. He could be a burglar for all I know. But that's when it hits me...

He's the man the police are searching for. He's the escaped criminal.

"Yo-you're who they're searching for, aren't you?" My jaw dropped to the floor.