Black Temptation

Chapter 10

I awake to the reoccurring pound on my front door. My bedroom is not that far from the sounds so ignoring it won't be likely. My body groggily lifts from the comfortable sheets and sleep walks to the bathroom. I throw some water on my face to awaken...something, slapping myself a few times in the process.

It was difficult to get to sleep when all the events play back on my mind. I being trampled by my own (former) boss, my own insecurities about being in the prescence of a...carlessly attractive...murderer, Harry and I fighting, me getting wet (good god), Harry driving me home, I seeing my wrecked car in the driveway, Harry busting my chops about that, I closing the door before any advances could be conceived, I sneaking out (of my own house) when the rain ceased, and I seeing a note on my windshield that reads:

"One time too many. Don't leave your property on my property, or next time, I'm burning it. Oh, and nice house. Sorry if I may have made a mess in your room. I'm a real klutz" -P

Which results in a night of twists and hot sweats and the fact that Peters knows where I live, came into my house, and destroyed my bedroom-doesn't help either.

But as I step from the confines of my room, a voice creeps into my ears.

I'm going to check up on you.

Harry said yesterday before he left me and it has repeated itself over and over in my head. If it was him beating like that on my door, I'm in need of a weapon. Who knows what kind of mood he was in and I didn't rule domestic violence off from his list of past offenses just yet.

I remember my self made tour of the house I did when I first arrived and that I found a good size bat in the closet next to my room. Ever so slowly, I walk on the fake wood flooring and snatch the bat.

I make my way down stairs, the pounding not ceasing one time since I initially heard it. It starts to create a headache that would eventually turn into a migraine if it didn't stop. A hastily handful encompasses the knob, unsure of what I would say to Harry, if my bat didn't say anything first.

Screaming an indian war tribe howl, the door swings open. My foot advances but halts as the bright sun alights the dim living room of my house and I notice that what I am looking up at is sky.

"Yoo hoo, down here." An elderly voice croaks. My eyes travel down to see Ms.Tote with her cane and blue scarf, holding a heap of mail in her hand.

She is the only person I know in the entire neighborhood. She and my mother were very close. Always cooking and joking together as I bounced in my playpen or played with my little brother Marcus. Then, something happened and they stopped talking. We moved away from her and I saw her less frequently but she always let me come to her house and eat those toffee scones that I craved for 6 years straight.

That's why it was a no brainer for me to move back here after my mother died and because it was the cheapest house near my job, but mostly because of Ms.Tote.

She feigns contentment even though I know she is stunned and a bit amused at my inelegant position. My thoughts return to their original stability when I recognize that her expression returns to a slightly bothered one.

But I don't have a chance to call it out before she raises her voice.

"Hun, why tha need fur tha bat? Its 11:30 in tha mornin and as quiet as a raccoon's armpit. Yer completely safe, you live in tha centre of retirees."

Safe. Not a word in my vocabulary. I look at the bat and back at her, realizing I'm making it awkward just holding right there. Smiling awkwardly, I bring it down near my minnie mouse pajama pants.

"Ok, anyway. That stupid bloke of a mailman put yer mail in mah box again. I even put a sign out sayin yer house was across tha street. I guess he cant read. Shame, could've been a good self lawyer when I shoot him."