Nowhere To Hide
There, lying on the tiles, was the very same mug that he had found moved from the porch on that first terrible night, smashed into pieces. He was the only soul in the house. His fear gripped him like a vice and his hands started to tremble. He could feel his whole world spinning uncontrollably and he reeled, trying to remain conscious. His stalker had been inside the house again… But were they still inside? He ran upstairs to his parents’ bedroom and frantically tried to open the safe, but it was locked and the key had been moved from its usual place under the carpet. He searched for a weapon… anything he could use to defend himself from this unseen enemy who had been watching his every move for two weeks. He knew it now in his bones that something awful was about to happen.
The tension had built and built, and now something had to give. He heard heavy footsteps approaching, coming up the stairs, and when they reached the bedroom door, they stopped. Had they finally found him?