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CHAPTER 10
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My main character is a bitch. There, I said it. She just does what she wants and she doesn’t want to go in the direction I want her to go. Now, I get that I’m the author and that I make up these characters, but they just do whatever they want. I have no power over them whatsoever, I’m just the lady who writes down what they come up with.
I’ve never experienced trouble like this with characters before. I usually come up with a general idea of what I want them to do and where I want them to end up. But this time, my character has got plans of her own and she’s not willing to abide by the rules I’m giving her. Somewhere in the back of my head I’m toying with the idea to have my original ending changed into something completely different. But I’m too chicken shit at the moment to do it.
I’m sitting on my porch trying to work some, but I’ve spent more time drinking coffee and looking at memes than I’ve actually been writing. From the corner of my eye I can see something moving in O’s house, which is odd, because as far as I know both O and Jonah aren’t home. I get up from the porch swing and set my laptop down before I walk over through the garden into the direction of O’s house to get a better look.
There’s an open window on the second floor where O’s bedroom is that shouldn’t be open at that moment, because O is kind of anal about locking up. I see the curtain blowing out of the window and I can see something that resembles a person inside.
I walk closer to get an even better look, because either I’m seeing ghosts, or something is going on. I don’t expect Jonah or O home for a while, but maybe something came up. You never know.
Walking over to the edge of my parents’ garden, I stand in the same spot O and I had been standing a while ago while talking to each other over the fence. It’s the perfect spot to get a good look at O’s house because there’s no plants in the way and after ruining my dad’s lawn, I can’t damage my mom’s plants because I won’t survive two strikes.
I see something moving in the upstairs window again and I figure it’s an arm that I’m seeing. It’s not a lot to go on, but it’s definitely a body part and I don’t really believe in my theory of it being a ghost. My heartbeat goes up and I’m hoping that I’m wrong, that O just got home early and I’m worrying for nothing. Only one way to find out I guess.
I grab my phone out of my back pocket and I dial O’s number, hoping to hear his ringtone come from the open window of his house. He picks up after two rings, before I can start to call him names for not picking up.
“Oliver Davids, realtor. What can I help you with?”
Wow, formal way to answer the phone, but I guess I’m talking to O’s work persona. Not the time to worry about it though. I haven’t heard a ringtone come from his house, but maybe he’s got it on mute.
“O, it’s me, Morgan. You’re still at work?”
“Yeah, I’m still at work. Hence me picking up with my work voice.”
“We’ll talk all about the difference between your regular voice and your work voice soon, but this is kind of important. I’m guessing you’re not home right? Do you know if Jonah is still at work?”
“Yeah, I’m working. So is Jonah. Why, what’s going on?”
I feel a pit start to form in my stomach. I just know there’s someone in his house who isn’t supposed to be there. I’m just not willing to admit it, so my head is searching for a way out.
“You don’t have a cleaner coming over to your house, right?”
“No, we don’t. What the fuck is going on Mor?”
I’m guessing he’s picking up on the panic that is starting to show in my voice.
“There’s someone in your house. In your room. The window is open, and I saw an arm.”
There’s a short silence and in that moment I see movement in the window again.
“I can see someone moving again!” I’m really freaking out at this point, what the hell do I need to do?
“Fuck, okay, stay on the phone with me. I’m coming home right now,” he says in the calmest way possible as I can hear him starting to move.
“Should I call the police?”
Another short silence. I don’t want to be in a situation where I have to call the police. I’m no hero, not even when the situation calls for it. I’m just a regular girl without any martial arts training or even self-defense skills. When the opportunity presents itself, I always opt for panic. I don’t thrive under pressure and I’m not able to do more than I believe. I’m just me and if I was in a slasher movie, I’d be the girl that dies in the first shot because I’m so stupid to run into the forest when there’s a psycho on the loose.
“Don’t call the police, it must be Celia. She’s... She has some problems and calling the police won’t do her any good. Just stay calm and I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Stay calm is wonderful advice when I’m freaking out because of an intruder who has problems as it turns out.
“We’re going to have a good talk about Celia when this is resolved,” I demand of O, because all of them telling me nothing is no longer working for me.
I move back in a crouch to the safety of my own porch, hiding behind the fence of the porch as I spy on the window. My heart is thumping with the speed of the wings of a hummingbird and I’m nervously biting my lip. I can hear O make all kinds of sounds on the phone while he gets in his car and starts to drive over.
