Thanatophobia (fear of dying)

Tragic Lovestory

Elliot left for his business trip early Tuesday morning.

The sounds of movement woke me from my light and fitful sleep. Matt was on my mind- as always. Why couldn’t I have braver? If I had only died then it would have been all better. Everything would’ve been better. Why did he have to die? Why was I such a coward?

I shook my head and clasped my arms around my knees. Even though Elliot had just left, the house felt emptier, deserted. Sure he went out to work most of the time- doing who knows what- but even so, just knowing I was stranded here alone for a couple days was a terrifying thought.

Being ostracized in the house was bad enough on a day to day basis, but without some kind of company, I felt like I’d slip into being incapable of functioning in society altogether- and granted I wasn’t a very social person to start off with.

Though it was still early, I flickered on the light to my room and decided to go down and make myself breakfast, something to distract me some solitude.

As I cooked up some scrambled eggs, I was reminded what Elliot had said about snooping. I bit my lip- well at least it would keep me somewhat occupied.

And there was so much I was eager to know.

Everything surrounding Elliot was puzzling.

As hypocritical as it was, I was dying to know the truth about him though I knew that my own lips would remain firmly shut when it came to information about my life.

I sighed and let my gaze flicker about the room, until I stopped at the sight of a neatly folded piece of paper on the counter. Picking it up, I carefully unfolded the paper to reveal a handwritten note signed in Elliot’s name.

Dear Jezebel,

Take Care.

Elliot

PS. Look in the place where knives hide and people lie.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared down at the note. Was he actually helping me find something? I ran my tongue across the inside of my teeth as I tried to decipher the riddle, but drew a blank.

Where do knives hide? I’d always hidden them on me directly.

And where do people lie? Is there some kind of place where people tend to lie?

I wracked my brains, but I couldn’t make head or tails of it.

Hopefully it’d come to me soon enough.

I shook my head and chewed on my scrambled eggs which were pretty tasteless. When done, I dropped the dishes in the sink, leaving them for later, and decided to start stage one of my explorations: upstairs.

I ventured down the same hall I’d found Elliot the other day, looking into every room that I came across, and let me tell you I wasn’t disappointed by what I discovered. .

A movie theater. A game room. A studio filled with mirrors. A sauna. And a  mini-golf room just to name a few.

I was stunned by these installments. I mean I knew Elliot was crazy rich, but this was just ridiculous. Considering this, however, I felt familiar shivers travel up the base of my spine. Even with all this wealth there was some puppeteer who held Elliot by the strings like he was a lifeless marionette. The thought was not pleasant.

What if that puppeteer decided that he wanted more? What if twenty six wasn’t enough?

Twenty-five, I amended, biting my lip guiltily. What if that puppeteer found out about me?