Blank Spaces

Blank Spaces

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Nov 20, 2014
I bite my lip and peek through the curtains, straining my neck to look outside the huge arched window. A silver Shelby AC Cobra pulled in front of my fountain in front of the masion. A devilshly handsome man with whipped brown hair and a expensive looking black and white suit and tie get out of the silver beauty and stares straight up at me. Our eyes lock and my breath hitches. I see him have a smirk on perfect pink lips and his green eyes seem to be teasing me. I know what he's thinking. But I whisper, "Looks like time for my next mistake."
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I can feel him, always lurking in the shadows, his presence creeping behind me like a silent predator. Every day, every night, I catch glimpses of that black Dodge, its dark, gleaming shape haunting the corners of my vision. It's as if he's always there, waiting, watching. The sight of that car freezes me with a chill of fear, but a twisted curiosity gnaws at me, pulling me closer to the unknown. Who is he? What does he want? Every time I turn a corner or glance over my shoulder, I wonder if I'm just another part of his silent game.

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