Eat Me

ChapterFour

Groggily, I forced my eyelids open, the excruciating pain tormenting me more than the initial thought of what had possibly happened to me last night. Surprisingly, the cold concrete and blistering chill of the night sky had disappeared, and I found myself running my hands over the soft, silky sheets of the bed below me. My bed, to be precise.

“How?” I mumbled, voice strained.

Darkness engulfed my bedroom, sunlight begging to be granted entry from beyond the curtains.

A search for my phone began and ended almost in an instant as I lifted the covers only to be met with the bare skin of my legs and stomach, only a bra and thong covering my intimate areas. Bruises and scrapes patterned my pale body, leaving a sinking feeling in my gut. I jumped up, scrambling out of the covers so fast, it took me a moment to recover.

My heart was racing and the lump swelling in my throat had me ready to vomit.

What happened last night?

Dried blood crisped over my skin but no traces could be found on my sheets.

It was all too much to take in.

One thing I knew, I didn’t feel sore. It didn’t hurt down there. In fact, it was my body that ached, kind of like when you have the flu.

Inwardly, I thanked f*ck it was a Saturday and that I’d booked it off work in advance in case my night out turned into a wild one. Checking in with my friends was second on my priority list, the first; giving in to the heavy pull of my eyelids and going back to sleep. I remember sharing drinks and having that disgusting vermin’s tongue down my throat, so I put it all down to maybe I’d caught something off someone in the club.

No, I wasn’t going to delve into the other thoughts of what could be wrong with me, that rabbit hole was not being entered.

***

This time when I awoke, it was the white glow of the moon peeking through the curtains. Everything was still, no cars on the road, no people chatting on their way to their destinations, not even a fox screaming at an ungodly hour. I could only assume I slept the day away as I took a second go at climbing out of bed. The low growl of my stomach enticed me towards the kitchen right as my bladder screamed at me for release. After peeing for what felt like an eternity, I ended up rummaging through the fridge and downing a whole carton of orange juice.

Some hangover.

I craved something meaty.

Steak, or a big juicy beef burger.

Of course, it couldn’t be something that I would have been willing to cook for myself and undoubtedly not something I could walk into a restaurant and order at whatever time of night it was.

I spotted my phone along with my purse and keys sitting neatly on one of the kitchen counters.

Weird.

No matter what state I would get myself in, I’d never be so organized, hence why I expected to find my phone tucked in bed with me.

Notification after notification chimed in my hand as I mentally prepared to reply to the barrage of texts from Bev wondering where I had gone. Usually, when we went out, I’d find an excuse to slip away early, so when the ninth or tenth text came through, I was a little confused by her persistence. Adding to my confusion was the time and date proudly displayed on my home screen.

Monday.

Monday f*cking morning at three o’clock.

I had almost two days unaccounted for, which also meant I missed my shift on Sunday. The thought alone brought an unnerving sickness to my stomach. No wonder why I had so many texts from Bev, she must be worried sick.

Suddenly, my flat got a little too claustrophobic, and I threw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before heading out my door. I knew nothing would be open at this time, but it didn’t stop my legs from needing to stretch, and as I slowly walked along the empty streets, I was brought back to the last place I remembered being before I woke up.

It was just as empty as it was that night.

From what I could tell, there was no CCTV covering the car park. It was a blind spot and one he knew all too well. My heart rate increased at that – I should be dead in a ditch somewhere.

As goosebumps began prickling my skin, I flinched, the feeling of being watched ever present. I increased my pace as I headed home, almost breaking in to a jog. But as I rounded the corner toward my street, the feeling hadn’t dispersed, someone or something was there, following me.

“Sh*t,” I screamed, clasping my chest.

A black cat pounced from my stoop to the pavement in front of me, nearly giving me a heart attack. My scream did nothing to deter it as it only saw an invitation for affection, plodding over and rubbing against my leg. I bent down, scratching his chin and slightly lulling my anxiety as his purr vibrated against my hand.

No collar – must be new around here because, as sad as it was, I knew all the cats on my street, more than I knew my neighbors, in fact.

Don’t get me wrong, I give the occasional ‘hello’ in passing, but as for putting names to faces, I couldn’t tell a Stephen from a Grant. I much preferred keeping to myself.

Ascending the stairs to my door, I looked back at the pitter-patter of small feet following me.

“Sorry little guy, I’ll catch you later,” I whispered, giving it one last stroke.

Wanting nothing more but to crawl back under the covers, I knew time was getting on, and I had to get to work for my early shift and pray that I still had a job.