Authors: Patricia Puddle
I scramble to my feet and look up and down
the misty road. The bus has long gone and so has the car that hit me. The street
is deathly quiet and the only light seems to come from a nearby house. I feel
sick. I nearly lost my life at sixteen. How could I have been so stupid—to run
out into dense mist without listening for cars? My heart thumping, I gaze up
and though I can't see the sky, I thank my lucky stars that I'm still here on
earth.
With a grateful spring in my step, I march down
the tree-lined street to my home. It's hard to imagine that in a split second,
I could have been a goner. Jeez. It doesn't bear thinking about. Now, I can
handle anything, even being on my own in our creepy old house for a fortnight. Though
last night, I heard strange noises on the roof.
As I reach our gate, something swoops above
me and lands in a nearby tree. Blimey. It must be a huge bird to make a
flapping sound like that. I look up at the branches, but I can’t see anything. As
I get my keys out, I suddenly remember that it’s Friday the thirteenth and I
chuckle into my hand. I know I’m superstitious, but there’s no wonder after
what’s happened to me tonight. I’ll be glad when it’s midnight, then I’ll feel safe
again.
A twig snaps behind a bush, making me jump. I
bolt up the wooden steps to the porch, but when I jam my key into the lock, it
won't turn. Crap. Looking over my shoulder, I joggle it about until it finally clicks
and the door opens. My hand still shaking, I switch on the light, chuck my bag on
the rug and slam the door. What a scaredy cat I’m turning into. It was probably
just a bandicoot or a bush rat foraging for food.
Matilda meows, then saunters up to my leg and
rubs against it. I pick her up and snuggle my face to her smoky black fur. “I'm
glad you’re here to keep me company and protect me from bogeymen.” She leaps
out of my arms and scoots to the kitchen, obviously wanting food.
The phone rings and as I dash down the hall
to answer it, I stumble over my bag. “H … hello,” I say, nearly dropping the
handset.
“Eloise, did you just get home?” asks my
mother, suspiciously.
“I tripped over my handbag,” I say, ignoring
her question. “Are you at Nanna and Pop's already?”
“Yes, we just arrived. How did your job at
the pet shop go?”
“Great. I had my trial today and I start on
Monday.”
“That's wonderful, love, but if it doesn't
work out, let me know and I'll organise a plane ticket for you to join us.”
I sigh. “Stop worrying, Mum. I'll be fine.”
“Well, Dad and I
do
worry. We don't like you being on your own. Now, make sure you
lock the doors and windows.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mum.”
“Okay, I have to go now, but I'll call
tomorrow. Goodbye, honey.”
“Bye.” I hang up and leap in the air. “Yippee.
I'm free for two glorious weeks. Now, I can have Brooke and Ruby over to stay.
We can watch movies and play with our iPads all night long.” I skip to the
kitchen and fill Matilda's bowl with cat mince. My stomach rumbles and I check
the fridge for something to eat. Mm, Mum's cooked my favourite dinner—beef
curry and rice. After warming it in the microwave, I sit at the kitchen table
and ponder on the strange things that happened to me today. And I realise how
lucky I am to be alive.
No thanks to Tom turning weird on me. Shaking
my head, I pick up my empty plate and take it to the sink. No wonder my parents
worry so much. After tonight, I understand why, but if I tell them what
happened, not only will they ban me from seeing Tom, they’ll have me on the
next flight to Perth. Anyway, I'm so over Tom. He’s turned into a total ass.
I take off to my bedroom to turn on my
laptop. Tom's bound to have sent an email. Shoot.
The server is down. No internet. Oh, well, maybe that's a good
thing because I'm too tired to chat to my friends after my long day, and I'd
only send Tom a nasty message. What a rat bag, and to think I liked him.
Yawning, I kick my shoes off and take my stretchy animal-print pyjamas out of
my drawer, but before I have a chance to go for my shower, a flash of lightning
illuminates my room. As a loud crack of thunder rattles the house, Matilda scurries
under my bed.
I dash to the window and peer out. The fog
has lifted and there's an amazing electrical storm flickering and zigzagging
through the clouds. A lightning bolt flashes above the shed, illuminating the
garden. Holy crap! Did I just see the shape of a man underneath the gum tree
next to the house? Shoot. He seemed to be staring at me. Is someone stalking
me?
Chewing my knuckle, I stare out, but it's
too dark to see anything. Thunder roars above the house, shaking the
windowpane. I drop my PJ's on the rug and wait for the next surge of lightning,
but when it hits, there's no one there. The shape I saw was too tall to be Tom,
so it couldn't be him. Then I remember the twig breaking in the front garden
and a little shiver runs down my spine.
Too creepy.
My
heart thumping against my ribs, I press my forehead against the windowpane and
look down the side of the house, but it's too dark to see anything. Hopefully,
I imagined the whole thing, but what if there’s a serial killer hiding in the
bushes? Shuddering, I draw the curtains.
Chapter Two
Jeez, I never thought I'd miss my parents on my
first night alone. What a big baby I am, and now I'm imagining strange men in
our garden like I did when I was little. A fallen branch suddenly crashes
against the tin roof and rolls down the side of the house. I jerk with fright. Crap.
The storm is getting worse. Lightning flares outside the window and a cool draft
whistles through a small crack in the ceiling. Shivering, I pull my clothes off
and toss them in a heap on the carpet. I wish Mum and Dad would sell this rickety
old house and move to a safer one. I can't wait to get under my doona just to
be warm again. When the light goes out for a second, I decide to have a shower
straight away. Relying on electric pumps and rainwater is a pain when storms
cause power failures, especially when you can’t flush the loo.
Grabbing my pyjamas, I dash to the bathroom
and open the window so the steam doesn’t set off the smoke alarm. As I peek
outside, I pray there’s no weirdos out there. But just in case, I'm letting
Matilda sleep on my bed tonight. I drop my PJ’s on the floor and hop in the
shower.
I cover myself with soap and wash and rinse my
hair,
then
I stand for a long while as the hot water runs
down my back and warms my skin. Something large smashes against the house,
startling me and spoiling my pleasure. My stomach churns. Hopefully it was just
another branch from a gum tree, but after seeing weird silhouettes in the
garden, I decide to check.
My heart thumping, I turn the taps off and
step onto the fluffy blue bathmat. As I wrap myself in a large white towel, I
pad over to the open window and peek out.
The wind is howling, chilling my nice warm skin.
Darn it. If it's raining tomorrow I won't be able to go for a jog along on the
beach, or meet my friends at the kiosk. I sigh. At least it's Saturday and I
can sleep in late. I shut the window and lock it. It's too spooky out there. If
I hadn’t let Tom trick me into going to his place this evening, I would've seen
Brooke and Ruby in the coffee shop and invited them to stay here tonight. It's
too late now.
Keeping my eyes on the window, I rub myself
dry,
then
I slip into my pyjamas and brush my teeth. On
my way out, I turn out the light. Then I stop to listen. Is my mind playing
tricks on me, or did I hear footsteps crunching on leaves?
My knees start to shake, but there's no way
I'm going outside to look. I don't fancy a strange apparition or a serial killer
grabbing me or sneaking in here in the middle of the night. My eyes darting
about like a frightened child, I pad down the hall to the lounge room to look
for Matilda.
She's curled up in her favourite spot on the
couch. And as I lift her up, she opens her sleepy eyes and meows.
“You can sleep with me tonight, Tilda,
then
you won't get spooked by the storm.” I cuddle her warm
body to my chest and walk back to my bedroom. She meows lazily as though she
doesn't like being disturbed,
then
she leaps onto my
bed.
“Okay, Matilda, I'm scared too, you know, but
it's been a long day and I'm tired.” Yawning, I move her to one side and climb
beneath the covers. As I stroke her head, she purrs. “Goodnight, Tilda.” I blow
her a kiss and switch off the lamp, then I snuggle into my pillow and drift off
to sleep.
Loud meowing wakes me from a dream and I open
my eyes and squint at the clock radio. It's 3 am. I flick the lamp on, but
Matilda has gone from my bed. Great, that's all I need, a bad night's sleep.
I look across the room and there she
is—up on dressing table peering out the window. Suddenly she lets out a loud wail,
leaps across the room, and back onto the bed.
“What is it, kitty? You scared of the
thunder?”
Staring at me with her huge yellow eyeballs,
she swishes her tail as if she’s trying to tell me something.
I stroke her head. “It's just a storm,
silly.”
She sits up straighter, her ears erect. Ignoring
her, I flick the light off and close my eyes again, but as I'm drifting back to
sleep she wails.
Darn it. I sit up. “What is it, Matilda?”
She wails again.
Now, I'm annoyed with myself for bringing her
into my room. I'm tired and I just want to sleep. I decide to give her one more
chance, but before I have time to snuggle back down, she leaps onto the dresser.
That does it. I climb out of bed, scoop her up and stomp back to the lounge
room. Though I feel guilty, I dump her in the nice comfy cat bed in the corner.
Patting her little noggin, I say, “Goodnight,
Sweetie.”
She scratches me with her paw.
“Ouch.” I rub my hand. ‘Little brat, that
hurt. It's your own fault. You should've kept quiet.”
She looks at me, her eyes bright from a flash
of lightning right outside the window. I ignore her and scurry back to my room.
I try to close the door, but it's damp and swollen from too much rain and won't
shut properly. Sighing, I leave it ajar and crawl back under my covers As soon
as I snuggle back into my warm pillow, I drift back to sleep.
*
I must be dreaming because I’m lying on a large
feather bed and staring up at the sky. There’s no roof or walls, and the floor
is a fluffy white cloud. As I look to my left, my heart skips a beat. There’s a
guy sitting next to me, and though I can’t see his face through the haze, I can
see the rest of him, and boy is he hot.
His stomach is firm and his arms and legs are
ripped with muscles. I gulp and hope I don’t wake up anytime soon. Then without
warning, he leans over and brushes his lips against mine. Wow! They’re so soft
and warm and his sweet musky sent makes me weak and dizzy. I still can’t see
his face, but he wraps his arms around my back and kisses me harder. As I
respond to his kiss, a painful electric shock surges through my heart. I try to
scream, but I can't breathe. Something is smothering me. I struggle and kick,
my heart pummelling against my ribs. Then as I gasp for air, I wake with a
start.
Holy crap.
I'm trembling and sweating at the
same time. What the hell kind of dream was that?
Chapter Three
Matilda is sitting across my neck, so I push
her onto my pillow. Darn her. Is she trying to suffocate me for sending her out?
“Sorry, Matilda, but you were smothering me.”
My left breast is burning, and as I run my
fingers across it, I writhe with pain. That freaking hurts. Jeez, I can't
believe my own cat went and scratched me. I want a better look at the wound
before I scold her, but as I lean over to turn on the lamp, I hear a soft sound
near my bed. I freeze.
Holy shit.
There's someone on
the floor. My blood runs cold. Is it a serial killer? Is he going to kill me? Holding
my covers to my chest, I edge back against the wall and scream.
“Calm down, Eloise. It's me—Tom.”
I bang my hand on the touch-lamp and sure
enough, Tom is sitting on the carpet next to my bed, a guilty look on his face.
I snatch a book from my bedside table and throw it at him. “What the hell are
you doing in my house?”
“Ouch,” he moans, rubbing the back of his
head and staring at the book. “I only came to apologise—you know—for this
evening. I didn't know you were going to beat me up with some freakin love
story.”
“Well, you could've knocked first,” I yell. “You
scared me half to death.”
He scrambles to his feet. “I did knock, but
you didn't answer. When I turned the knob it opened, so I came in to let you
know you'd forgotten to lock up. Plus I was worried 'cause you told me your
folks were away and I wanted to make sure you got home safely. You should've
let me drive you.”
I squint at him. “Okay, so I'm forgetful, but
why were you hiding under my bed?”
“What?” His eyes grow wide. “I wasn't hiding
under your bed. I only came in your room to wake you. When I tapped on your
shoulder, you moaned, pulled me on top of you,
then
started
pashing me, so I kissed you back.”