Curiosity Killed the Cat

Chapter Eight

Officer Ramirez puts down the pen as I finish telling him exactly what happened last night. "I'm so sorry, Catherine."

"How could they let him escape?! He's so dangerous, you'd think they'd take extra precautions!" I yell, pacing back and fourth. Jackson was out of prison. An escapee. So, now my life was possibly in danger. I thought it was all over but I'm back to where I started- scared and panicking.

"We're going to keep you safe Catherine. Don't you worry. We won't make the same mistakes we made last time." The officer tells me, trying to assure my safety. How could I believe him?! How could I believe any of them?

I had been taken out of my foster home and put in another one for safety until my aunt would finally come to pick me up. She was my only living relative- besides Jackson- that could take care of me. She lived in L.A. and it was a long trip from there to New York. I had gotten a package this morning with the collar and bell Jackson made me wear for three months. I had throw up immediately and went into a panic attack. Then I finally called the police and ended up here.

"What's gonna happen to me if you guys end up failing at your job, again?" I sneer, feeling failed by the system. It's all their fault. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have even ended up with him.

"Willow, this is Jackson. Your brother." My case worker, Stacey says, introducing me to the long lost brother I've been dreaming of for ten years. He was tall, dark locks of hair, dark eyes and an aging face. He had that mountain man look to him. He lived right in the middle of the woods. I was a little hesitant to say anything to him when he held out his huge hand.

"Hello, little sister." He smiles, showing yellowing teeth. I could tell he was a smoker. He wreaked of cigarettes. His teeth and nails were yellowing, probably from all the chemicals in them. "I'm sorry about mom and father."

"Yeah, I really miss them." I shrug, saying quietly. They were just going to leave me with a stranger for the next to years?

"Well, let me show you the place." He says, walking up to the house. He points to a smaller looking house. "That's the garage."

"This is the living room" He tells us, showing the first room of the house. It had a country look to it. There were deer and moose heads mounted on the wall. Stuffed animals along the tables and ledges of the windows. It freaked me out, who would willingly kill animals and display them around the house?

"The kitchen." This room was more modern. Wit granite counters and a bunch of Kenmore appliances. "Laundry room." A room with a washer and dryer, iron board, folding station and some detergents and drying sheets. We walk upstairs and go into a purple room.

"This is your room." He says, letting me look in. It was perfect. Everything I had ever dreamed of my dream room. Beautiful king sized bed, purple and black themed bed sheets and comforter.  A desktop on a desk with a rolly chair and a TV on top of a beautiful black dresser with a connecting bathroom.

"Holy crap." I whisper, admiring my new digs.  I could get used to this. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

"I guess we can leave. You can pick her up tomorrow from the foster home after all the paper work is filled out." Stacey says as me and her walk to the car with Jackson following behind.

"Okay." He smiles. As I get in the car and we drive off, he leans into the window. "Bye, Cat." His voice sounds, sounding a little eerie. I thought nothing of it and showed a little smile. He seemed nice. Little did I know what was in store.

"Catherine?" My foster mom Lane questions me, as I scoop the third spoonful of mashed potatoes on my plate.

"Sorry." I say embarrassed, thinking and getting caught up in the past. I pass the bowl to Joshua, my foster brother and he starts scooping them out.

"How was school, kids?" Jeremy, my foster father asks.

"It was so boring. They made us do long division. I'm in eighth grade, not first!" Josh complains, stuffing his face with food. I play with my peas when it's my turn to talk.

"It was okay." I pipe up, trying to sound convincing. I skipped today to go into the park. There's a spot in the forest where I like to be, it's quiet. They didn't know that I haven't been in school for the past week. I was scared that Jackson would show up there. I was always on my toes, ready to jump at the slightest noise.

"That's good." Lane says, paying attention to her dinner. After dinner, I take a shower and go to bed. Sitting in my bed I begin writing.

The last thought I had was

"I'm dead."

The last thought that rushed my brain was

"I'm going to die."

But here I am

Three weeks later,

still holding on.

I wish I was dead

It'd be easier

no more darness

no more hatred

no more hurt or pain

Death is sweet bliss to me

I want it

I need it

maybe tonight is the night

I will summon the courage to do it

drag the razor deeper

let my life go

But no

I'm a coward

afraid of what's after death

maybe he's there?

I can't risk that

so i'll cut shallow

hopefully no one catches me

I'm skilled at this

is that a bad thing?

I guess so.

I put down my notebook and take a deep breath in. I wish I was dead. He wouldn't hunt my reams anymore. My PTSD gets the best of me all the time and I have anxiety about it all. I'm always on my toes and can't help but feel paranoid. Maybe I need help? But right now, I just need sleep.

"Get away from me!" I yell, kicking and screaming for my life. He cuts the razor deeper into my leg. I scream at the pain as blood runs down my leg. After he finishes, he wipes the pooling blood off my leg and I see it. Jackson, engraved on my leg forever. I wanted to throw up. The torture I endured so far wasn't horrible, until this happened. I knew then that death was upon me, and I wouldn't make it out of that house alive.