Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“I’m. Not. Making. It. Up.” I had to lower my voice and steady myself so I wouldn’t scream at the officers who were just doing their jobs. I was infuriated that they didn’t believe me, but I also understood why they didn’t—because I had no evidence. “Please, you have to believe me.” I pressed my palms together and rested my hands against my lips, silently praying for someone to help me.
The officer exchanged another look with his partner. “Look, I’ll give you my personal cell number. Call me if it happens again. But, if you call me and there’s nothing…don’t call me again.”
I didn’t sleep for two days.
I put cameras outside my apartment door and also across the street. That way, if the freak returned, I would have evidence.
It had happened. It fucking happened.
I got myself a knife that I carried on me at all times. I wasn’t using pepper spray if that guy got close to me.
I would stab him in the heart and go to jail for it.
I’d rather spend a life sentence in jail for murder than let him touch me.
I had my performance on Friday night, so I had to get some sleep. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even be able to remember the dance moves. I considered letting my understudy take over, but if I didn’t dance, I didn’t get paid. And I’d already spent a lot of my savings on the camera system.
But I had a feeling something would happen tonight.
I just knew it.
And if it did, I would call the police.
I sat at my vanity and waited for the show to go on, looking in the mirror at my pale and sunken face. Bags hung under my eyes, and there was a lifeless look to my entire appearance. My sleepless nights were spent in anxiety, and my slumber was filled with nightmares.
I stared at myself and suddenly remembered the man who had been here a week ago.
Asking about a woman…and his daughter.
She was a dancer…I’m a dancer.
She’s missing…and the police are of no help.
I lifted my gaze and looked at my face in the mirror, staring at my own expression of disbelief. I gazed at my pained and disturbed expression, seeing all the emotions written on my face like words of a horror story.
I had to find the man with the photo.
Who was he?
What was his name? Had he told me that?
Why didn’t I ask more questions?
I left the vanity and turned to my stage manager. “Mark, you remember that guy who was asking about a missing woman and child?”
He spoke into his headset then flipped the mic up. “What?”
“The guy asking about his missing daughter. He was tall, blond, attractive… Do you know his name?”
He still looked confused by the question. “Do you realize we’re about to go on in less than a minute, Constance? Can we talk about this later?”
“Do you know his name or not?” I snapped. “Just answer the question.”
Now he truly looked irritated. “Can you do this or not, Constance? Because I need to tell Lily to get her wings on if she’s taking your place. The girls have told me you’ve been off lately.”
“There’s a guy who’s been stalking me. I’m not off. I’m fucking afraid.” Why didn’t anyone take this seriously? I was an intelligent and pragmatic person whom people respected, but the second I voiced my concerns, people considered me unstable. “A guy just came here looking for other girls who are missing. You don’t find that to be a coincidence?”
He pulled the mic down and spoke to the technical team. “Jim, give me a second.” He flipped it up again. “We’ll talk about this later, alright? We have literally thirty seconds. We can track down this guy and do whatever the fuck you want, but I need your ass on that stage right now. Can you do that?”
I got what I wanted, so I finally let it go. “I’m on it.”
He didn’t appear during my solo.
Now that Mark would help me track down the guy, I felt less terrified. All I had to do was find him, we’d head to the police, and then they would take me more seriously. One woman and her daughter were gone, and I’d be next if we didn’t find a solution.
The music halted as we finished the show, everyone taking their final poses, waiting for the applause to erupt. I stared into the sea of people, keeping my smile and my stance, my chest aching every time I breathed because the costume was tight, and I sucked in big breaths.
Before the applause began, men stood up from their seats, all positioned on the aisles.
All dressed in black.
All standing out from the rest of the audience that remained seated.
Because they wore cattle skulls on their heads.
My smile immediately dropped, and so did my pose.