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But in unfamiliar handwriting it read:
I’m watching.
Those two words sent shivers down my spine. They seemed so threatening. No name accompanied the words and that scared me even more. I stared at the piece of paper one more long second then walked over to the fireplace and watched it burn till it was a blackened crisp.
Whoever had done this was female, I was certain from the writing. Whoever they were was targeting me specifically. Whoever this was either didn’t know the Pulmer’s are vampires or was brazen enough not to care and is vampire them self. I was positive it was the later. I looked out my window. I was scared. Someone had been in my room. Could she be watching me now? Wait the window! That’s how she must’ve gotten in without her scent being all over the house. Being a vampire she could probably just climb up the wall and then come in. She’d only been in my room. She seemed to know me but who could she be? And what would a vampire I’ve never met want with me? If this person was even a vampire?
I felt my chest begin to constrict. I put my hand to my chest trying to breathe. One thing was for certain I was not telling Jonathon. At least not yet because
I could already tell he was stressed and this note might not be anything. For all I knew Mason wrote this in a different hand to freak me out. But something told me this was serious and I needed to look out.
I climbed in bed but I did not sleep the entire night. I was too scared that whoever wrote that note was going to come back.
Chapter Sixteen: The Painting
I woke up in a cold sweat. The sheets drenched. I wiped my forehead. I had had a restless night. I was so worried that whoever had left that horrible note would return. But she never did. I marveled at how sure I was that the intruder was female.
I quickly stripped the bed of the wet sheets. I was zipping around my room so fast I probably looked like a vampire. I was so worried Jonathon or one of the other Pulmer’s would walk in and see me all sweaty and then the sheets and ask what was wrong and that would not be good. I’ve never been a good liar. I hate lying so when I have to I can’t. I usually start laughing like I’m a raging lunatic. Try explaining that. I hurried into the bathroom to wash up.
I couldn’t enjoy the soothing power of the shower. Once again, I was still worried that whoever wrote that note was coming to get me or even watching me. I would never be the same and that was a sad thought. The words ‘I’m watching’ echoed in my mind like a never ending chant. Over and over again.
I put my hands to my head, trying to stop the flow of thoughts. I took a deep breath.
I’m going crazy. This can’t be happening now. It has to be some kind of practical joke. But my gut was telling me it wasn’t and I need to look out. I should tell Jonathon but I don’t want to worry him or have him involve his family. I have to take care of this on my own. This is my problem not Jonathon’s.
Suddenly the water ran cold and jolted me back to life. I squeezed as much of the water out of my hair as possible. I got out and wrapped a towel around my damp body.
I went over to my room and put on another of my new outfits mechanically. I quickly dried my hair with my towel. I looked at my watch. It read: 8:17. I would have plenty of time to straighten my hair.
Before I left my room I walked over to the fireplace to make sure that no evidence remained of the note. It was completely gone just a pile of ashes. How ironic? That seemed to feel like the way my life is now. Just a pile of ashes, useless and dried up.
I walked out into the hallway. I glanced around and saw no one. I went down the steps, my footsteps sounded so loud, every one echoed in my ears like a sonic boom. I felt like there were eyes boring into me. Unseen and deadly. My heartbeat quickened. I glanced over my shoulder at the slight sounds of shuffling.
A person stood behind me at the top of the stairs. A hoarse scream sounded from my throat. I stumbled forward. Falling. The stairs loomed before me. Surely, the fall would kill me.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist before my head could hit the stairs. I fought against the solid, ice cold, marble arms with all my might but it was useless. I got ready to scream again.
“Kylie? What’s wrong?” said the angel voice of Jonathon. I instantly relaxed. It wasn’t the intruder.
“No- no- nothing,” I stuttered trying to restart my heart. He flew me down the steps and laid me on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” He demanded again. His voice was so angry and frightened. I decided to go somewhat with the truth. By somewhat I meant leaving out the note and intruder part. He looked so concerned. My eyes probably showed so much fear.
“You scared me. I- I- I couldn’t hear anybody so when I turned around and saw you standing there it- it- scared me-me” “Is that all?” He asked taking my shoulders. “What else would it be?” I asked in turn. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He said his eyes distant.
I took several deep breaths trying to further quiet my heart. My stomach rumbled.
Jonathon stood up and extended his hand for me to take. I did gladly reassured by his presence.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“Out,” He said simply. I was confused by his short answer.
Jonathon towed me into the kitchen.
I made a cheese omelet. I sat across from Jonathon at the table. He looked at the table, refusing to look at me or else deep in thought. I poked carelessly at my sandwich. There was no way I could tell him about the intruder. I had to deal with this problem on my own. That was a scary thought but I was used to handling things on my own.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
