Page 74 of Firethorne
As I opened the book, I noticed that the page had been marked by a piece of paper, with the words, ‘You’re not alone’, written on it. A message that felt eerily like the ones I’d been given by Damien at Firethorne. I put the paper on the seat beside me and started to read, but as I sat reading, I became distracted, hearing every creak of the floorboards and whistle of the wind outside. It was a routine I was becoming tired of.
I glanced up, after what sounded like the groan of a footstep invaded my ears, distracting me from the story, and there, in the reflection of the blank TV screen in front of me, I saw a dark, shadowed figure standing behind me. I jumped from the sofa,letting the book fall to the floor as I spun around, screams dying on my lips when I saw that there was no one there.
But there had been someone.
I’d seen them.
I wasn’t going insane.
Was I?
Instantly, I ran over to the picture frame, moved it to expose the panic button, and I pressed it over and over again.
But no one came.
I stood in the middle of the apartment and screamed out, “Whoever is watching this, you need to come and let me out! Now!”
But no one did.
And then, I noticed the scrap of paper that’d fallen to the floor as I’d shot off the sofa after seeing that reflection. The paper that told me I wasn’t alone. And a cold shiver ran down my spine.
Maybe Damien hadn’t left that message.
It could have a completely different meaning.
Not a ‘You’re safe’ message.
No.
A ‘Someone is watching you’ warning.
That thought made my stomach lurch, my mouth grow dry, and my heart start to beat even faster than it was before.
Nothing felt right here. Not now. Not when I was on my own.
I kept pushing the button. It was all I had.
But after one night, it went unanswered.
And then one night turned into two, and still it went unanswered.
By the third night, with no response, and no visit from Damien, my panic turned into a sickness that threatened to drag me under.
Why wasn’t Damien coming? He came here every day.
Something had gone wrong on the outside. I knew it.
Why wasn’t anyone answering the panic button?
And how was I going to escape this water-tight asylum of an apartment, if all I had left now was me?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Maya
After four days and nights of being alone, I felt deranged, paranoid, neurotic, and utterly delusional. I was a caged animal, ready to fight until my nails bled to get myself out of here. And I would get myself out of here.
I threw anything I could find at the windows, trying to break the glass, but it was impenetrable. I tried to prise them open, but they wouldn’t budge. In desperation, I’d kicked the door, but only left scuffs and marks where my feet had been. I’d scoured the apartment for vents or anything I could crawl through to escape, but I was left with nothing but exhaustion and the feeling of total and utter hopelessness.
