Tring Tring……… Tring Tring
“Sarah, it’s me, John!”
“John hello? What? Wait… ” I looked to my right, where bright neon green lights stared dead straight at me, “It’s 3 in the bloody morning! This better be important!”
“Sarah, please don’t cut the phone. I need your help!”
“Hold on, why are you panting? Why are you running at 3 in the morning John? What’s going on?”
“There’s someone behind me. I don’t know who, what or how they got to know where I am, but they found me and they’re going to kill me! Please help me!”
“KILL YOU? Why would they want to kill you? Who are they anyway?”
“Sarah, please. I’ll answer all your questions later. You’re my only hope. Please save me!”
“Okay, tell me, what should I do?”
“Listen to me very carefully! Under your bed”… “Under MY bed!? When and how did you get access to MY bed John??”.. “Sarah, CONCENTRATE, questions later… Right now I need you to save me”
“Save you.. Fine, fine.. Go on!”
“Right, so under your bed there’s a black box. In which there’s a diary. Open that diary and read the 7th entry. Do as it says.”
I got out of my bed and removed the black box. It was pretty plain and extremely light. I lifted the top lid and the diary, which I should add was the most boring book I’d ever seen, had the words “SECRET!” written in red over it. Like that’ll keep people from reading it! Sheesh!
The handwriting inside the diary wasn’t similar at all, I wonder whose it is. There was no name or address or even a code word that would help identify the owner of the dairy. Each page had writings on it, and it was too neat. I flipped 7 pages to read what was written, but I can’t disagree that the first 6 pages tempted me as they had my name all over them. Somehow I controlled the urge to read the other pages, and reminded myself that I had to help John first. The diary would stay with any way right? I could read the rest later.
Page 7 had only three words.
What scared me the most was that it was written in a weirdly thick red ink. It looked to be…. but it couldn’t be… blood.
I dropped the diary on the floor and ran into the corridor, yanking open the main door and into the garden.
It was dark and silent for a second and then in the next it was all flashes and screams. It took me a minute to realize the words hidden in the screams.
I looked away from the flashes and into the deep crowd of people standing in my garden, one of them was carrying a huge cake with the candles with numbers “21” and the words “Happy Birthday” with blue icing and a few others were spraying confetti all over me.
I saw John, standing a couple of steps away, with a camera in his shaking hand, laughing and screaming “You should have seen your face!”
“Ha-ha, this is SO funny, isn’t it. Wait till I get my hands on you John! You’ll need some to save you from me this time!”
I started to run towards him when suddenly, I fell down.
Off the bed.
I should have realized it was a dream.
My name isn’t even Sarah.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Daring Do.”