Censure

Chapter 10: Unexpected Visitor

Keira's P.O.V.

"How's the view of it here?"

"Amazing," I sigh, "It's...beautiful."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you. You see how those fireworks are exploding right now?" I nod. "That's how my mind feels when I'm with you."

My heart begins to race. "Really?" I ask.

"Really." nothing could make this moment more perfect. We sit here in the colorful lights, the bridge cools the palms of my hands, which have suddenly began to sweat.

I've never had the chance to feel this way about somebody. This is new to me. The sound of my pulse downs out the stream below and the fireworks above. I'm sure he can hear. I feel his arm wrap around my waist and pull me towards him. "What are yo-" I look into his eyes confused. Flashes of pink, green, and blue shimmer in them.

"Shh," he tells me.

My heart feels ready to come out of my chest, much like when I first experienced fireworks. But this time, for a whole new reason. My side is touching his and I can feel his body heat.
I breathe heavily, "Brad...I'm scared." he smiles warmly.

"When you're with me, I can assure that you don't need to be." the next thing I know his other hand comes up to my face and cups my cheek. He leans down and I catch my breath.
Time slows as his face comes closer and closer. Centimeters away, his lips from mine.

Then it stops. I gasp and bolt upright in my bed. Clutching my chest, my breaths are heavy, ragged. "What the heck was that?" I question out loud. A dream. Brad was a dream. Why would I dream that? I just met him. Why would I dream something like that? How could I have produced these emotions? None of it makes sense. You have more sense than this, Keira! Ugh stupid hormones.

Now that I think about it...what woke me up in the first place? I look around my plain white bedroom and see everything still in place the way it was before. Dresser in the corner, mirror above it, the closet on the opposite side of the room. Everything is how it was when I lumbered into bed a few hours previously. At least I think so... I study the window on the blank wall with absolutely nothing decorating it.

It's dark in my room, but I can make out a smudge that wasn't there before. I slowly pull the cover off and back toward my door. I open it and run down the hall to my kitchen. I quickly rummage through drawers and search for the one thing in mind.

A knife.

After frantic searching I come across a butcher knife of satisfactory size. I tightly grip it in my right hand and begin down the hall again. I make my steps slow and cautious, trying not to make a single sound. I come to my door and hold my breath before turning the corner to my room and entering. Time slows as my body moves. I step forward;

and releasing my breath, bring the knife upward, preparing to attack.

As I step through, I'm both relieved and worried to find nothing there. Buy my eyes wander back to the window and I catch my breath again. What looks to be a bloody hand print stains what used to be my clean window. The print smeared downward leaving a trail of blood. It still looks fresh. And as I watch the mark left behind, the hand that created it appears again. It slams against the window with a thud.

Again, and again, the hand bangs on the glass. All I can do is stare with my mouth hanging open and gape. My feet glue to the carpet on my floor and my nerves tingle. I'm paralyzed with fear. The glass starts to crack. My hand that holds the knife starts to twitch, but I'm still frozen. Locked in place. Larger and larger, the crack grows in size. The window shudders and the glass threatens to shatter.