8. Aurora

8

Piercing blue eyes cut through the darkness, almost as if they are glowing. When the figure moves out of the shadows, I realize he's covered in blood and holding a knife. The sight startles me awake?—

I pant frantically, realizing immediately that my skin is slick with sweat. That dream was fucked-up. My stomach rolls as I recall the sick images my mind conjured in my sleep. The masked man from he carnival murdered people, covered himself in blood, and then chased me. And yet, as I wake, I can feel the lingering heat between my thighs from the fantasy.

It's official. I need to see a shrink because these thoughts and fantasies are getting too messed up. Pulling myself out of bed, that same sensation of being watched creeps over me. Going about my morning routine, I try to ignore it, but it's no use. The feeling makes my skin crawl.

When I step out onto the sidewalk, it intensifies. I glance around, searching for someone following me, but the streets are empty. My heart races as I walk to the grocery store.

At work, I struggle to focus. My hands tremble as I ring up customers. I'm losing my grip on reality.

Am I going insane? Is this what it feels like to lose your mind?

I try to push the thoughts away, but they keep creeping back in, like tendrils of darkness wrapping around my brain.

When lunch break finally rolls around, I sit in the break room, my leg bouncing nervously as I wait for Charlotte to arrive. I've never been happier to see anyone than when she finally walks in, a bag of burritos from our favorite place in hand.

"Hey, girl!" Charlotte greets me with a smile, plopping down on the chair across from me. "I got your usual - extra guac, no sour cream."

"Thanks," I say, taking the burrito from her. "You're a lifesaver."

We eat silently for a few minutes, but I can feel the words bubbling inside me, desperate to escape. Finally, I can't hold them back any longer.

"I think someone's watching me!" I blurt out.

Charlotte's eyes widen, and she leans in closer. "What do you mean?"

"Ever since the carnival, I've felt someone following me. Watching me. I can't shake it."

Charlotte frowns, her brow furrowing in concern. "That's creepy as hell. Have you seen anyone suspicious?"

I shake my head. "No, but I can feel it. It's like this constant presence lurking just out of sight."

Charlotte takes a bite of her burrito, chewing thoughtfully. "You know," she says, a glint in her eye, "if it was that masked guy who grabbed you in the haunted house, it might not be so bad."

I feel my cheeks flush at the memory of his powerful arms wrapping around me, the heat of his breath on my neck, and the dreams my fucked-up mind has had since our encounter. "That's not funny."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs. "He was pretty hot, in a mysterious masked man kind of way."

"Even if it is him, which I doubt it is, it's still creepy. I don't want some random guy stalking me."

Or do I? I'm so messed up that the idea of some muscular, blue-eyed, tattooed, and masked psycho stalking me turns me on, even if I wouldn't voice it out loud.

Charlotte's expression turns serious. "You're right, I'm sorry. This is serious. Have you thought about going to the police?"

I shake my head. "And tell them what? I have a feeling someone's watching me, but absolutely zero evidence? They'll think I'm crazy."

"Well, maybe we can do some investigating of our own," Charlotte suggests, a glint of excitement in her eyes. "We could try to catch this creep in the act."

I bite my lip, considering the idea. It's tempting. "I don't know. What if whoever is doing it is dangerous?"

Charlotte leans back in her chair. "We'll be careful. We won't do anything stupid. But we can't sit back and let this stalker control your life."

Charlotte has a flare for the dramatic considering this feeling only started yesterday morning. So, it's hardly like the stalker is controlling my life, but I nod in agreement. "We should do something."

Even as I agree with her plan, I've got a nagging doubt. What if I'm just losing it? What if there is no stalker, and this is all a product of my fucked-up brain?

I've always been a little off, too drawn to life's perversions. What if this is another manifestation of that?

No, this feels too real to be in my head. The sensation of being watched, the prickling on the back of my neck, the way my heart races every time I step outside—that can't all be in my imagination.

Despite trying to convince myself, the doubt lingers. I've always been good at lying to myself, at creating elaborate fantasies in my head.

I nod. "Let's find out who this fucker is and make them regret ever messing with me."

Charlotte grins, her eyes sparkling. "That's my girl. We'll show this creep what happens when they mess with Aurora fucking Montgomery."

Whether this stalker is real or just a figment of my twisted imagination, I'll find out which it is.

"I think I've got the perfect plan," Charlotte announces.

I arch a brow. "What is it?"

Charlotte clears her throat. "Here's what we'll do." She leans in close. "I'll meet you after your shift, and you'll walk me home to my place. I'll pretend to go inside. Once you're a good hundred meters away, I'll follow you, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious."

I bite my lip. "And what if you see someone following me?"

Charlotte grins. "Then we confront the bastard. We'll ensure he knows that messing with you is a big mistake."

The thought of confronting my stalker is daunting. Part of me wants to run, hide, and pretend this isn't happening. But another part of me that craves the thrill is eager to face this head-on.

"Okay," I murmur. "It's a plan."

We continue eating our burritos in silence. Or at least, I do. Charlotte rambles on about something to do with work, but I'm too distracted to listen. Once finished, we say goodbye, and I return to work.

The rest of my shift drags, each minute feeling like an eternity. I can barely focus on my work, my mind consumed with thoughts of what might happen afterward. Will we really catch my stalker? Or will this all be for nothing?

Finally, six o'clock rolls around, and I clock out, my heart racing as I step outside. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the parking lot. I scan the area, looking for any sign of Charlotte, but she's nowhere to be seen.

I wait for a few minutes, my anxiety growing with each passing second. I pull out my phone, ready to call her, when I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Hey!" Charlotte calls out, jogging toward me. "Sorry that I'm late. The boss kept me working later than usual."

I sigh. "It's okay. I'm glad you're here."

We set off toward Charlotte's apartment, walking side by side. I act normal, chatting with her about work and our plans for the carnival on Halloween night. Still, my mind is elsewhere, constantly scanning our surroundings for any sign of danger.

Dread sinks in as we approach Charlotte's building. This is it—the moment of truth. Charlotte walks up the steps to her door.

"Text me when you get home," she says, giving me a look. "And be careful."

I nod. "You too." I watch as Charlotte disappears inside, the door closing behind her with a soft click. Then I turn and start walking, my heart pounding.

I make it about a hundred meters and hear footsteps behind me. My breath catches in my throat, and I force myself to keep walking, my pace steady and measured.

Suddenly, a man rushes past me, answering his phone as it rings. I jump, my heart leaping into my throat as I whirl around to face him. But he barely glances at me, too engrossed in his conversation to pay me any mind.

Get it together, Aurora.

It's just some random guy, not a stalker.

Glancing over my shoulder, I hope to glimpse Charlotte behind me, but the street is empty, and there's no sign of her.

Where is she? I slow my pace a little, allowing her to catch up. My fingers hover over her name on my phone.

Should I call her?

I shake my head. No, Charlotte can take care of herself. She's probably being extra cautious, ensuring she doesn't blow our cover.

I keep walking, my eyes darting from side to side as I scan the shadows for any movement. Every sound makes me jump. Every flicker of movement in the corner of my eye sends my heart racing.

But there's nothing there. Just the empty streets and the distant sounds of the carnival. I'm feeling foolish again like I'm just being paranoid.

And then I hear a soft rustling sound, like someone brushing against a bush. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I strain my ears to listen.

There it is again. And then a faint echo of a footstep on the sidewalk. Someone is following me, I'm sure of it. Focusing on walking, I keep my pace steady. I sense the heaviness of someone's eyes on me.

I glance back over my shoulder, hoping to glimpse my pursuer. But the street is empty.

Quickening my pace, I run the last few blocks to my apartment. I can still feel the weight of someone's gaze on me. But every time I glance back, there's no one there. Once I reach my building, I stumble inside and rush up the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the door. Finally, I unlock it and run inside, slamming it shut behind me and locking it with trembling fingers.

Pulling out my cell, my fingers fly over the screen as I type out a message to Charlotte.

Did you see anyone following me?

I hit send, my heart in my throat as I await her reply. But the minutes tick by, and there's no response. I frown, a twinge of unease settling in my gut. Charlotte always replies right away, no matter what.

I hit the call button, holding the phone to my ear. But there's no answer, just the sound of her voicemail greeting.

"Hey, it's Charlotte. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you. Maybe. If you're lucky."

My hands tremble as I stare at the phone. There's something wrong.

I scroll through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Dan's name. He's the only other person I trust. I hit the call button, my heart pounding as it rings once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" Dan's voice is groggy like he just woke up.

"Dan, it's me. I need your help." My voice is shaking, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I think something's happened to Charlotte."

"What do you mean?" He sounds more alert, concern creeping into his tone.

"I don't know, Dan. We had this plan..." I trail off, my voice trembling. "I've had this feeling someone has been watching me the past two days. So, Charlotte met me after my shift, and we walked to her place together. But then she was going to pretend to go inside and follow me from a distance to see if anyone was stalking me."

My heart pounds in my chest. "But I didn't see Charlotte behind me the entire way back. I kept waiting for her to catch up, but she never did. And now she's not answering her phone or responding to my texts."

I can feel the panic rising in my throat, threatening to choke me. "What if something happened to her, Dan? What if whoever's been following me hurt her?"

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and I can practically hear the gears turning in Dan's head. "Okay, let's not jump to conclusions," he says, his voice calm. "Maybe her phone died."

"But she would have followed me to my apartment," I argue, my voice rising. "She knows how freaked out I am about this whole stalker thing. She wouldn't leave me hanging like that."

"You're right," Dan concedes. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'll head over to yours and pick you up now, and then we'll go to Charlotte's place and see if she's okay."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Okay. Yeah. That's a good plan."

"Just stay put, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," I whisper. "Please hurry, Dan. I'm freaking out."

"I know, Aurora. I know. Just hang tight, okay? I'm on my way."

I end the call, my hands shaking as I set the phone on the counter. While I relish fear, not when it might mean I've put my friend in danger. I glance around my apartment, feeling like the walls are closing on me. Either I'm completely losing my mind, or something has happened to Charlotte. I couldn't bear it if I put her in harm's way. It would be all my fault.