Chapter 41 - Harper

“I just have one more thing to take care of, and then we can be together forever, puppet.” Greg is putting on his jacket and heading for the fire escape. “You just sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

“What are you going to take care of?” I ask.

“Rosie.”

Before I can respond, he’s out the window and slams it shut. The noise of the window coming down on the frame vibrates through my chest and I yell in panic. Greg looks at me through the closed window and grins before spinning around and disappearing down the fire escape.

His face stays etched in my vision, the toothy smile of a madman staring at me through the window. My breath is shallow.

Rosie.

He’s going to take care of her?! What does that even mean?? He seems to think that she’s the one who stopped us being together, not the fact that he’s a stalker that I had no interest in being with. I need to get out of here. I need to protect Rosie! I need to protect myself!!

I struggle against my bonds once again. It’s no use. He has them tied up in multiple knots, spreading me out so I can’t get any leverage. I can’t even move, let alone try to free myself. I relax and then yank at my arms, as if to surprise the ropes into letting me go.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. Tears of frustration start welling up in my eyes. I don’t have much time. I need to warn Rosie! I don’t even know what he’s planning on doing, but judging by the bloodstain on his jacket and the unhinged look in his eye, I can guess it’s nothing good. He’s dangerous, and I’m stuck here with no way of even moving more than a couple inches.

I’m starting to lose hope. I can’t move these ropes at all. I’m stuck in my own home, unable to call for help and unable to set myself free. The tears are streaming down my face now. Rosie. My best friend, the voice of reason, the one who can make me laugh.

I can’t take it. The pain grows like a ball of flame in my stomach until I have to let it out somehow.

“Help!” I scream into the void. “Help me! Someone! Please!” I scream and scream until my voice goes hoarse, and then I scream some more. I watch as the minutes tick by on my alarm clock, taunting me as my imagination runs wild with what Greg might be doing.

It takes half an hour to get to Rosie’s house from here, assuming Greg is driving. That means he’ll be getting there in just a few minutes. She’s probably making dinner, she always eats at home. My heart starts thumping as the clocks marches on and on.

“Help!”

My voice is getting weaker and I sob. It’s no use.

Just then, I hear a thump at the front door, and some muffled voices. My heart leaps.

“Help! In here!” I scream as loud as I can. My vocal cords are raw, and each sound they make sends pain through my throat. I don’t care, it doesn’t matter. “Help!”

The door burst open and I hear heavy footsteps.

“Police!”

“In here!” I yell. A flood of officers comes through my bedroom door and in an instant my arms and legs are free. A thousand and one questions are flying at me.

“He’s gone, he’s gone to Rosie’s,” I pant. “I know where he is! He’s gone to Rosie’s. I’m fine!” I shout as someone tries to tell me I need to go to the hospital. “I need to go to Rosie’s!”

“You can show us the way,” a large officer with a mop of curly brown hair says to me. “Green, get her in the car. We’re going.”

On the way out the door I grab my phone and rush down the stairways. Before I know what’s happening I’m loaded into a police car and the sirens are blaring. We’re flying down the roads as cars pull over left and right to let us through. I’ve never been in a police car and the feeling would be exhilarating if I wasn’t terrified for Rosie.

There’s no answer as I call Rosie over and over and over again.

“Come on, answer,” I whisper to myself. “Answer!” I call her one more time and then mash the keyboard as I send her a text.

Get out of your apartment. Go somewhere safe. Call me NOW!

Rosie’s silence is deafening and the dread is quickly overwhelming me. I rub at my wrists where the ropes left red raw marks. I know my eyes are wide and my body is completely tense as I watch us speed through red lights, green lights, around corners, through stop signs. We fly down the roads towards Rosie, but it still seems too slow.

I can’t stop glancing at the clock. Time is still laughing at me, barreling on way too quickly. Surely Greg has made it to Rosie’s house now. We’re too late. He’s already there. My mind starts to run away with thoughts of what we’ll find - more dark reddish brown blood stains, Rosie, Greg, maybe he’ll be gone and we’ll just find Rosie.

My phone rings and I almost jump out of my seat. I look at the screen and sigh. It’s not Rosie.

Zach’s name flashes on the screen and my thumb hesitates over the buttons. Finally I let it press down over the one on the left: Ignore. I don’t have time for this right now, and I definitely don’t have the energy. My hand hovers over my stomach and I close my eyes. It’s ok, little buddy. We’re going to be OK. I love you.

I’m not sure if it’s normal for women to talk to their foetuses like this but it gives me an ounce of comfort to know I’m not alone.

I focus on the sound of the sirens to drown out my spiralling thoughts. As the cars split on the road in front of us I shift my thinking. We’re going to make it. We’re nearly there. He couldn’t have gotten here that fast. He’ll want to draw out his punishment of Rosie, surely. We’ll have time. We can make it.

We have to make it.