Myra – Part 2
Myra held her breath, waiting for footsteps, a bang, more screaming…something. She had wished the cute Delta Chi boy had stayed longer. He could have helped. Or would he have been another victim?
The front door creaked, followed by it gently closing and latching. At first, she feared someone had come in.
“Oh no, Greg,” she thought to herself. She couldn’t deal with someone else dying in her apartment. But there was no movement. No attack. Nothing. Did the intruder…leave?
Myra waited under the bed for what seemed like hours, but she knew it was no more than five minutes. When there was no sound or movement, she dared to emerge from her hiding spot. If anything, she hoped to creep over to her cell phone and call the police.
She slowly moved through her apartment, fearing the inevitable creaky floorboard or bumping accidentally into furniture. Myra was afraid of finding Jeanie’s body. It made her sick thinking about it.
To her shock, the apartment was empty. She searched every room, every closet. She willed herself to look under furniture and in each corner. She was alone. No intruder. No Jeanie. Myra scurried to the window that opened onto the street. She peered left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder. He must have taken Jeanie and left. It was the only thing that made sense.
That night Myra slept on a chair in the police station. She was waiting to speak to a detective, and while she dozed a few officers were at her apartment looking for clues. They had already sent out their APB on Jeanie’s being missing and the description of her kidnapper. Myra provided the most recent picture she had on her phone of her roommate—a closeup selfie of them as they got dressed before the Delta Chi boy showed up with their booze.
Myra dreamed that the intruder had found her. His meaty hand grabbed her by her hair and dragged her out from under the bed. He lifted her high in the air, and as she screamed in her dream, she screamed in the chair in which she dozed.
“Miss!” the nearest police officer shouted. “Miss! Wake up!”
Myra jumped up, nearly punching the officer in his face with her flailing arms. It took a few minutes for her to fully wake up. When she did, she apologized, feeling embarrassed about the whole incident. The officer walked her back to the seat and reassured her that everything was okay.
“You’ve been through a lot,” he said. “But you’re safe.”
There was movement in the corner of Myra’s eye and a sinking feeling in her stomach. As the officer continued to calm her, Myra turned her head.
He was there. Watching her from the other side of the room.