Mr. Hyde

She paces around the kitchen, waiting.

For him.

With the box.

The box, the box! Where did she put the box?! It’s there, it’s safe, it’s okay. She whispers to herself and listens for him, waiting. The girl upstairs doesn’t know. The girl upstairs doesn’t understand. The girl upstairs, the girl upstairs . . . her thoughts race and her heart’s in a panic. It’s dark but she turns the light off so he won’t see her, waiting. Hours go by but she can’t sit. She opens the box and stares, it’s too dark to see but she knows it’s there. She hovers over it in the dark, waiting.

She takes in a drink of water to calm her shaking body.

She hears him.

He’s here.

She peers through the corner of the window. His fair skin and dark eyes contrast in the glow of the street light. His steps almost silent as he welcomes himself into the building. An arrogant air surrounds him along with a charming smile and glossy hair. She creeps over to her pantry where a hidden door and staircase lead to the apartment upstairs. Why, why, why is she doing this?! Crazy, she thought, she’s crazy, that’s why. She hugs the box in her arms and at the top of the pitch black staircase she puts her ear against the door. It was quiet for a while so there she stayed, waiting.
Her legs ached and she guessed that it had to be at least a quarter to midnight. But then his voice struck and left goosebumps on her body. It’s not that it was loud but that it had an eerie tone that gave her heart a jolt. “You know I’m not a bad person, but you look at me with scared eyes” His voice lingered and the girl did not reply. “You don’t want me to get angry now do you?” He said with an added aggravation “Well?”
There was a slam, and her stomach sank. Now was her chance, now, now, now. But she was scared. She hesitated. There was another bash and she ripped open the box and raided through the door. Her hands shaking and her heart pounding. She found the girl laying on the floor with the color red painted through her brown hair. The man smiles up.

“Oh, it seems we were being a bit too noisy,” he scoffs. “My bad.”

She pulls out her gun that she usually keeps in the safe keeping box and he fell to the floor. The girl crawled her way over to the man and cried over his body. “How could you do that? How?  Why?” She trailed off and the women fell to her knees and called the police. “Hello? I-uhm . . . I just shot my neighbor.”

About Brianna Dunn 452 Articles

Brianna Dunn is a junior at Clayton A.Bouton High School.