I had just left the café and was on the way to my house. I’ve lived here in Cheshire, England for almost two years now. As I walk inside, I see a picture of me and my mom. I haven’t seen her in 6 months now. Last Christmas I went back to Montana (in America) to visit her. The reason I moved here to England is because… well, I couldn’t stand the thought of my best friend, Jonathan, going crazy.
It was a bright sunny day when it happened. I got a phone call from our local hospital and on the other line was a trembling voice. “Hello? Carson?” “Mrs.Kate? Is everything ok?” I asked, worryingly. “Colton was in an accident… he was on his way to your house…” her worried, choked up voice started crying. I immediately dropped the phone, grabbed my keys and ran to my car. Thoughts went through my head like a bullet. “My best friend, Colton James. Playing football together in the yard, swinging in the park, jumping in the pool together. I nearly passed the hospital as I drifted the car into the parking lot and jumped out in a swift motion. I ran and ran until I got to the front door of the hospital. The doors flew open as I looked around like a frantic, helpless animal in headlights. I basically jumped into Mrs.Kate’s arms. I looked straight into her eyes and said, “What happened and where is he.” She’s like my second mother, I’ve known her since Colton and I were three. “He was driving to your house when he passed the intersection- a semi we-went through the um, red-light and hi-hit him.” We both started crying. “Is he okay?!?” I said. She thought for a minute. “We don’t know.”
We sat in silence hugging each other. Jonathan was in a coma for over a month when he finally woke up. He was literally, mentally unstable. He had gone crazy. I couldn’t deal with that, so I moved here, started a new life. Haven’t even seen him since the day he woke up.
I make myself some Ramen noodles and get ready for bed. Tonight isn’t worth major cooking. I need some sleep after all this thinking about him.
*next day*
When I get home after waitressing today, I noticed a flower in front of my door. A big pink rose with a note attached. “I think I love you. You’re very special to me.” I read aloud. “Well THAT’S not creepy.” I say sarcastically. I sent my friend Catherine a picture of the rose with a text attached,- “LOL wha??” I walk into my room and sit down on the bed and look at the rose again. ‘Ding!’ Catherine messages back. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.;D” I laugh and text her back “You think??” I’m looking back to all the guys I’ve met here: Lucas, Justin, Jacob, Blake, Chase, Logan- just then my thoughts were interrupted by my phone. “DUHH.” Catherine is always upbeat and optimistic. I met her when I first moved here. I used to work with her. I put the rose on my table and put my favorite album in by The 1975 when I hear a knock. It was my window. “shit” I said to myself. I grab an umbrella that was leaning against the wall and walk over to the window. I open the curtains and back up quickly. No one there. Just a pink rose.
I don’t see anyone but I grab the rose and slam the window shut before I let any cold air in. the message read: “I’ve been watching you for a while now…. I really do love you.” I find all this strange and frightening. I lock my bedroom door and window, turn on the TV and fall asleep to Full House reruns. The next day at work, I tell my friend Jamie about the previous day’s events. She wasn’t as concerned as I was. When the work day was over, I tell Jamie bye and leave the shop. I go to pull my iPod out of my oversized handbag when something pricked me. “Geez, did I leave a tack in there?!” I say sarcastically to myself. I set my bag on the dirty sidewalk and crouch down beside it. Inside it- a pink rose with a note attached.
As I stared in horror, trying to think how this person- managed to slip a rose in my bag- when it was locked in my locker in the back room of the café.
I run as fast as I possibly can to my house. At this point I’m scared because someone is actually stalking me. I get home and I read the note. Nothing but a bunch of numbers… 1769421796… it’s a... phone number. Should I call it? Do I even dare? I have to… I have to know who this is. I walk to the phone and slowly dial the number- careful to get every digit correct. I hear a ring. And then another…. But the second time- the ringing is coming from my basement.
My heart sinks into my stomach. My basement. The place I feared most. The place I refused to go to. The place I now have to go to and face those fears. I call the police. On the third ring- the line goes dead. Out of my own delusional stupidity, I yet again, for the second time in two days, grab my umbrella and stand at the door which leads to the stairs. The stairs that leads to my basement. I slowly open the door and basically start to cry. I hear the sound of a record skip and then the horrifying lines of the song. “Tiptoe.. through the tulips.. out the window…” I stupidly keep walking. I walk, step by step, and come to the corner that leads to my actual basement floor. I’ve only been down here once, when I first bought the house they brought me down here. I made everyone go back upstairs with me because I hated the feeling I got. Last time I was down there, it was nothing but an empty, gray room. But as I peered around the corner I realized that everything had changed.
Horrified- I look around and see nothing but: pictures of.. ME taped to the walls, a few of my things that have been missing for awhile, some of my clothes… at this point I’m speechless and bawling my eyes out. I step into the room and see masks. Masks are everywhere- on the floor and on the walls. I realize I need to find out what’s happening. I also realize how stupid I am to walk to the next room of my basement. I look around the corner… more masks. Through my tears- I see something that is unmistakable. There is a man sitting at a desk. I cover my mouth and try to run but I couldn’t even breathe. The man stops. He turns his head towards me. Of course, I scream. He’s wearing a childish lion mask. He starts to stand up. I know I’m going to die so I don’t even try to run. I can’t move anyways. I cover my mouth and keep crying. I noticed that my umbrella was still in my hand. I lift it- planning to hit him- and then run. He takes his hands, grabs the edges of the masks and peels it off his face with a crazed smile. “COLTON?!” I scream.
I throw the weapon and It nails him in the head. It gave me enough time to run. I ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut. I take the china cabinet that’s next to me and slam it against the door. “Where’s the phone?!? I ask myself, while still crying. I see it on the table and grab it. “911, 911, 911.” I repeat aloud. I hear a bang against the door and the china cabinet shakes. I scream and run outside. “Hello, this is 911 how may we assist you?”
*Later that night*
I hear ringing through my cell until she finally picks up. ”Hello?” the voice says. “Mom?” I respond. “Honey! How are you?!”….”Mom, I’m at the police department. Colton. He-he was IN my HOUSE, Mom. There was a long pause before she answered. We talked for -an hour or so, and what I got from her was-
Apparently, Jonathan was released from the mental hospital. They thought he was better. He was acting normal again. He had the idea to come visit me here. He got here almost three weeks ago. All of that work in the basement was done within three weeks. He literally has been stealing food and water from me and has been watching my every move for three weeks. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I eventually moved out of my house. About a week later, I got a call from the institution Jonathan was in. “Hello, I understand you knew Colton James?” “Um, Hello. Yes.. I did. May I ask why?” I said. “Can you please come down here?” They said. “Sure...” they had hung up. I drove the 15 minute drive, and when I had gotten there… they directed me to his room. I walked in and his body was covered with a sheet. Drawing of me covered the walls, written with blood- on the concrete wall- “I LOVE CARSON”
