Chase is on

Chapter 1

The chase was on.

"Amelie!" The strange man said, calling out to me, sounding hopeful that I'd come back to him and hear what he had to say. His plan was hopeless.

I kept running. I heard his tap shoes and was curious to why he was wearing them. But I didn't stop to ask.

"Amelie"

"Yeah mama"

"If a strange man with tap shoes ever runs after you, what do you do?"

"Run"

"Good girl"

I suddenly remembered the conversation that was held between my mother and I all the time. Because shock was metaphorically knocking me over and drowning me in a puddle, I tripped. I heard the tap shoes getting closer and closer and I knew that He'd catch me.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He stood over me and like from the horror films that I continued to watch even though they terrified me to the point of almost peeing myself, it was dark, scary and there was a man standing over a helpless girl who had tripped in the chase. Great

"Dude. Am I that scary?" He laughed like he hadn't just chased me 5 blocks, with tap shoes on, with it being midnight, full moon and scary. "What was all that running for? Like seriously, I'm not in shape."

"What?" I stuttered. I mentally slapped my forehead for sounding scared. From watching a million horror films, I've learned to never show fear in front of your murderer, it makes the killer laugh and makes them think they've won, and when they're optimistic bad things happen to the good guys/gals.

"Umm... Are you alright there? I'm not like a scary monster or murderer, you dropped you wallet. I try to be an ethical person, so I ran to give it back to you. But then you started running like a nuclear bomb was going to go off."

At that second I absolutely knew he was up to no good. He was the "play it nice and make the girl like you" kind of killer.

"I'm fine. Rough Night."

"I totally get it." He held out his hand offering to help me up. Because I was trying to give him the "I'm a tough girl" kind of vibe, I glared at him, ignored him, and got up on my own.

"You have my wallet then?"

"Oh yeah" He took my old leather wallet, once my mothers, out of his pocket, and handed it to me.

"Thanks. I should get going some pals are waiting for me at a restaurant close by."

"No problem. What restaurant?"

Play it cool Amelie, he's a murderer, trying to get info.

"Pies N Thighs"

"Really! Me too! Weird!"

Shoot. He's trying to get you to invite him to come with you.

"That's really weird" I said sarcastically.

"Dude. If you wanna be left alone just let me know."

Ugh. He's trying to make me feel bad, it's working.

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" I said, I pinched my elbow really hard, mad that I had just invited a murderer to dinner with me and my imaginary friends.

I walked with the killer to Pies N Thighs in the gentrified neighborhood Williamsburg in Brooklyn, NYC. I barely listened to what he was saying, something about 80's music and how Joy Division, Blondie and The Smiths are so much better than One Direction. I didn't listen. I was thinking about possible ways of escaping, but my mind was blank.

My mom, since I was really young taught me that people chasing after you at night was the worst thing that could ever happen. She then would give me scenarios.

"What if the man or woman potentially chasing you was a killer of people named Amelie?"

She would say things like that and now I am terrified of anyone who runs, am obsessed with horror films because they make me feel better like somehow I'm not the only one who's afraid (it makes no sense) and hate the name Amelie. I was a pretty messed up kid.

"Hey. We're here." The strange man with tap shoes said.

"It looks like my friends aren't here. Oh look at that I got a text saying that they were on their way but they can't make it, subway's messed up."

He laughed "You are my friend are a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying." I said trying to be the best actor that I was capable of being, it didn't convince anyone.

"Right"

What do I say, what do I say, what do I say.

"Where do you live?"

I almost cried at how thoughtless that question was.

1. I really don't care

2. He'll ask me after he answers, which isn't good, you really don't want the murderer knowing where you live.

3. Why did I ask a question in the first place? I'm not the chatty kind of gal.

"Bushwick"

Great. He coincidentally lives in the same neighborhood as I do.

"Awesome" I said rolling my eyes.

He ignored my rude gesture and smiled "So, where do you live?"

"I should go, I'm really tired, sorry."

"No problem. I'll see you around sometime." He said walking into Pies N Thighs, to dine alone.

I stopped abruptly after walking a few blocks. He had called my name when we were running. How did he know my name? Obvious, he's a genius killer; he of course would know my name. I then started to wonder why he wanted to kill me. I couldn't think of anything. Unless he was the store manager of the same Gap where I had stolen a pair of jeans at when I was 15, I doubted it.

Then I thought about his face. What did he look like? I couldn't remember, I was looking down at my feet the whole time. What about his voice? I couldn't explain it. Deep? I'll recognize it when I hear it, if I hear it.

I got home and watched some Doctor Who, it made me feel better whatever the circumstance. But... I was incredibly unlucky and watched Angels in Manhattan that night (where Rory and Amy passed away), which wasn't a good thing. How was it supposed to make me feel better when two of my favorite characters die?

I took my blubbering, freaked out self to bed.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Why are you following me?!" I cried

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked smirking while he chased after me.

Wolves howled, and the full moon shone brightly.

"No!"

"Why my dear, I want your Season 7 disc set of Doctor Who!"

"NOOOOOOOOO" I cried, I tripped into a huge puddle. His figure blocked out the moon which made a glowing aura around him.

I screamed hoping for someone to save me. He reached into my pocket, took the Doctor Who Season 7 and smiled "It's mine"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO"

I woke up drenched in sweat. After getting a cup of cucumber water from the fridge, I laid back down on the bed and thought about my dream. I laughed at the stupidness of it. Oh me.

I wrote this last night, don't know where it's going. Let me know what you think, needs some edits but I really wanted to put it up!