I slowly open my eyes. I feel the bitter taste of bile in my mouth. 

“Good baby, wake up.”  I hear a familiar voice next to me.

My vision is blurry. I can’t distinguish his face, but he’s so close to me that I can smell his bad breath. Then I remember everything, and a tingle of terror runs up my spine. I instinctively try to scream but I realize I can’t even disclose my lips, which have been sewed with large scotch tape. My hands are tied behind the chair where I’m sitting.  Right in the middle of the living room. My feet are bare. But fortunately, I’m still wearing my jeans and my top.

My eyes get watery for the frustration. I want to ask him why is doing this but in an instant, it hits me.

He’s the one. He’s the damn stalker.  That’s why he knew almost everything about me.

I feel the scotch tape dragging my skin as my lips curve up into an ironic smile. How stupid of me.

He’s the night concierge and when he showed up at my door in the middle of the day I haven’t suspected the slightest thing.

My vision slowly clears and when I look up I feel nauseated. I hate him with all my heart, but I hate myself even more for having been so blind and naïve. I’ve always treated him well, and now here I am. Tied up on a chair in ‘my apartment’ with a fucking psycho. My heart goes crazy at the thought and my throat aches.

He grins at me with eyes that I’ve never noticed. His glance has changed. Now is icy and devilish.

I feel a warm tear gliding down my right cheekbone. The urge to pee is killing me, and I feel my brows furrowing and my chest moving up and down due to my fast breathing.

“I’m sorry Grace but I just couldn’t let ya leave like that,” he says calmly.

The pupils of my eyes widen in fear as I look at him questioningly.

“You are mine. I told you.”  He says motionlessly. “I TOLD YOU! GRACE, YOU ARE MINE! YOU UNDERSTAND THIS NOW???” He unexpectedly yells loudly, causing me to jump on and blink. Little sprinkles of spit hit my forehead; then he grits his teeth staring at me with rage. My heart races uncontrollably and I start sobbing. Tears run profusely down my cheeks, and I feel completely lost. I know that’s it.  Never would I have imagined that I’d have died like this. Killed by a psycho in NYC.

Lawrence’s breathing has quickened but he stares at me, slowly regaining his composure. He changes again and lets out a sick smile. Then he chuckles nervously. “Why? Why you don’t love me Grace?” He frowns.

‘Jesus Christ he’s completely outta mind!’

I moan in my throat looking at him with a crying expression.

“You wanna tell me something?”

I rapidly nod and keep moaning.

“You need to promise you won’t scream, otherwise I’ll have to kill ya, right here.”  He shows me the shiny blade of a huge knife he keeps in his belt and I suddenly feel the need to throw up. I exhale through my nostrils. “Hmmmmmmmm!” I hum, nodding several times.

He picks the scotch tape on its corner and tears it off, causing the sticky adhesive to make me gasp due to the intense but quick pain.

I let out short little gasps as he stares at me with an amused expression. He slightly tilts his head to one side as if he were a monkey examining something new and unknown.

‘Think Grace! Think!’

My whole body aches. I don’t know how long I have been tied to this chair. My wrists burn, and I feel the rope sinking into my skin every time I try to move them.

“Lawrence please don’t do this,” I blurt trying to hide my terror as much as I can.

He cringes and discloses his mouth slightly. “Do what? Do-What?”

“Don’t get mad like th-”

“DON’T GET MAD? WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME GRACE!? WHY YOU LITTLE WHORE???”  He yells spurting drops of spittle against my face.

I instinctively twitch, and I gasp. Tears pour down again.

“Please,” I sob. “Please Lawrence.”

“PLEASE? PLEASE?!” He grabs his knife and places the blade on my jugular vein. It’s cold and sharp and I feel the warmth of my dense blood slowly gushing out.

I sob out of control, but then I try not to move, holding my breath, despite my desire to pass out.

When he drags the knife back I exhale the air from my lungs and I close my eyes for a moment.  My cheeks are soaked with my tears and I sense my neck slightly wet with my own blood. I know it was just a warning. He could have killed me if he wanted to. But if I don’t try to read his mind and behave accordingly, the next time could be the one.

My heart thunders. In a moment my whole life flashes before my eyes.  Then I decide to play my last card.

“Lawrence, look. I was trying to talk to you. I wanted to tell you I’ve always liked you a lot. But you know?”  I try to giggle nervously. “I’m kinda shy, ya know?”

His expression changes instantly. He seems confused and baffled. He’s completely taken aback by my words.

I chuckle, and I let out a sarcastic smile - inside I’m dying of fear and my legs tremble, but this is my only chance.  “If I only knew. Oh, Gosh Lawrence. I didn’t know you like me!”

He keeps staring at me with a quizzical glance.

“Lawrence, you remember I always say hi sweetly to ya right? I even worried about you being cold or having enough hot coffee, right? You remember that, right?”

He leans closer in slow motions, studying me as if I belonged to an unknown animal species.  “Yeah, I remember that,” he finally mutters.

I smile as sweetly as I can. “Why do you think I did that? Who else did it in this building uh? I bet no one right?”

He starts believing I might be speaking the truth.

I stare at him directly in the eyes. “I love you, Lawrence. I really love you. And I want you to come with me to Hawaii.”

He’s puzzled and disorganized. He hadn’t planned this. And I need to be grateful for all the movies and books I’ve read in my life.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, really.”

My heart pounds fast and hard against my ribcage. So hard that I fear he’d be able to hear it.

A weird grin springs on his face. Then he steps forward and cups the back of my head with his right hand before leaning over to lay his lips on mine.