The Guest
Just as anyone would expect, I called the cops.
A stranger, a guy, forced his way into my home. Not to mention, my parents are away for brunch, I was alone to protect myself.
He even mentioned Ike, who was dead before I could even count. I didn’t want to question if he was playing a rouse, or if he was as serious as the hard look on his face.
He continued to sit on my couch, especially after I called the police. I didn’t get him, or understood him.
“I called the cops, you’re trespassing, and you’re going to jail,” I crossed my arms, waiting to see him flee from the seat. But he didn’t move. He still stayed put.
“Did you hear what I said? You’re going to jail.” I said again, hoping he would leave, but he didn’t budge.
“Do you have some coffee? Something hot? I need some for my throat,” he yawned nonchalantly, as if I didn’t say anything to him in the first place, as if we’ve been friends for years.
I sigh, and go into the kitchen. I make him a pot of tea instead, I thought that it may be his last good beverage before getting apprehended by the police.
It was still weird, I don’t intend to get answers from this guy about my brother, I intend on going back to sleep once he’s gone. But I was really curious, how does he know Ike? Ike died in a car accident, a hit and run, and I was only a baby then.
Maybe I’m being rash, maybe he and Ike used to be friends when they were younger, that could be why I don’t recognize him.
I turn and hand him a mug of tea, and he takes it cautiously. His eyes taking notes of the living room.
“Were you and Ike close..?” I asked, recessing the question. He stopped sipping the tea to look at me, and when he stared it felt like a thousand daggers in my chest. I really didn’t understand the mystery behind this guy.
“Was that his name? Ike?” He smirked, leaning back in the chair.
I glared at him, he didn’t even know of my brother’s name. The same guy that asked about his deceased body.
“You don’t know Ike? And yet you ask about him? That’s really creepy, and ru-” “No, I came to show you this weird letter found by his tombstone, it’s common courtesy.” He snarls, putting the mug down on the table.
My eyes followed him as he got up from his seat and checked the blinds, looking for the police I bet.
He then turned to me with a low whisper, “I also saw something else,” he pulled me towards the back door.
I tried to tug away from him, kicking him even.
Yet he hung onto my arm, “I saw someone, someone who was holding a shovel, like they were going to dig up his body..” he whispered again, trying to unlock the door. The way he said it ran chills down my spine, I couldn’t imagine it, I didn’t want to imagine it.
I continued to pull from him, “Let me go! What’re you doing?!” I continued to yell.
He pulled me outside, I was still in my pajamas, my hair a mess. And yet his hand attached to mine, pulling me down my driveway into what it seems, his car.
Today was the start of a bad beginning.
