Killer on Cherry

February 28, 2012

Ring!Ring!Ring!Ring! It all started with that ring, it is such a simple noise. Who would think that simple ring could haunt me for the rest of my life?

My name is Rob Smith. I am a writer for the Boston Globe. I was reporting from a Boston Red Sox game. The Red Sox had just narrowly pulled out a win against the visiting White Sox. It was late nearly 11 o'clock when I got home.

Ring!Ring!Ring!Ring! I snatched my cell phone out of my pocket.

“Hello,” I said in an alarmed voice. “Who is this?”

“Hi Dad, it's me, your daughter Emily.”

“Oh sorry, I could hardly recognize your voice. How have you been lately?”

She said, “I've been tired. Your two year old grandson is a lot of work.”

Then I asked, “Are we still on for tomorrow? I can't wait to see you.”

She said, “That is exactly what I was calling to confirm. All of us are looking forward to seeing you.”

“Okay, sounds good, it's getting pretty late, I better let you go.”

“Alright love you Dad, bye.”

“Love you, too,” I added. After that, I was in a great mood. The Red Sox just won, and I will get to see my family tomorrow. I threw on my pajamas, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I extended my hand to grab a handful of pills.

I muttered to myself, “the older you get the more pills you have to take.” Although I was relatively healthy for an old man, I was still an old man. I used to be strong and fast, not anymore.

Ring!Ring!Ring!Ring! the phone, again, for some reason that Ring! made tiny beads of sweat drip down my face. I picked up, “Hello! Who is this?”

A recorded robotic voice said, “Hi, this is Boston Organic Tomatoes.” I slammed my phone shut. It was just a stupid telemarketer. Ha ha, it seemed so foolish that I was worried. I then proceeded to lie down in bed.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! Jolted out of my slumber by that horrid noise. I picked up the phone, and said, “Who is this?” As soon as I shouted those words I noticed it was 2:15 a.m. Not a single soul in the whole city of Boston should be up at 2:15 in the morning!

“Hi, Robby,” snarled a deep voice, “this is your worst nightmare. The funny thing is that it's real. Ha ha ha. This beast said those words in such a way you can't imagine. The truly horrifying part about it was that last ha. I heard it in the receiver of my phone, and downstairs.

“Where are you?” I whimpered into the phone.

“365 Cherry Lane,” the intruder said.

“That's my address.” I whispered into the phone. There was no answer. I heard a slight buzz come from the phone signaling the person on the other line had hung up.

The intruder then screamed, “Want to play hide and seek, Robby? You hide, and I'll seek.” I pranced down from my bed with my phone still in hand. I punched in 9-1-1 and hit send as fast as my old body allowed. While the phone rang, I tried to pick out a hiding spot. As children, we play hide and seek for fun. Now I was hiding for my life. I chose one of the, if not the, most famous hiding spots. Under my bed. Who hasn't once hidden under their bed.

The intruder was rampaging through my house. He knocked countless big items over. I heard the shattering of glass.

“Hello, this is 9-1-1, what is your emergency?” a woman said in a pleasant but firm voice.

I proceeded to whisper, “A robber is in my house. He is breaking things and says he is going to kill me. My address is 365 Cherry Lane.”

“Help is on the way. A heavily armed S.W.A.T. Team will arrive in five minutes. Try to hold him off for that long.”

I assumed that she would be the last person I communicated with in my life. The clock switched to 2:17. I had to hold him off until 2:22.

The intruder stampeded up the stairs. He said, “Oh goody,” only three more rooms to check. The door leading to my tiny bathroom was busted off its hinges by the villian. A minute went by and the guest room door was opened. After a quick search, the thief was out.

“I can't wait to kill you old Robbie. I have killed hundreds. With each death I have taught myself how to make the pain more excruciating! Now I am ready to kill you! right now you might not want to die. By the time I am done with you, you will be cheering for death.”
2:19, he knew I was in my room, and I had to hold off for three more minutes. I saw the door swing open. From my vantage point, I could only see his shoes and slightly above. The menace leaned over my bed and threw off my covers. He had boots on and I could hear his raspy breathing.

“Not here,” the murderer murmured. He opened my closet and rifled threw my clothes. “Not here.” The man leaned down into a pushup position and put his face down down to my level. His face was that of a beast. He had scars and bruises all over his face. He wore a black trench coat that dropped down below his knees.

“I found you,” he said with a hint of excitement in his voice. “Are you ready to be pricked, poked, and stabbed so many times you can't imagine? I live for killing. My favorite moment in life is when I am done with my subjects. I have blood covering every square inch of your body, and mine. I love it when your heart stops beating but your shrieking lives on.

2:20, I was doomed. He lifted himself out of pushup position. He hoisted the whole bed and moved it. The murderer had a huge bulging muscles. He flipped open his trench coat.

“What to choose…what to choose.” The murderer said in a sing-song voice. He pulled out a gleaming silver dagger with a huge blade. “Let's start with the fingers,” the murderer said.

Surprisingly quickly he jumped down. I glanced over it was 2:21. “Eeny meeny miny moe catch a tiger by the toe and if it hollers let it go, my mother said you are it.” The blade gleamed in the moonlight as it was drawn back.

CRASH!! all four of my windows were broken in as S.W.A.T. members landed in my room. The murderer looked up, astonished. Bang! rang out four guns once again simultaneously. One of the S.W.A.T. members helped me to my feet. Fifteen other S.W.A.T. members ran up the stairs.

A siren went off in the not too far distance. I was in a daze. I asked the S.W.A.T. team leader how they got here a minute early.

He responded, “We tell everyone we are going to be one minute later than we really are, so then they try to hold them off even harder.”

I was beyond tired; I just started laughing hysterically. I replied, “that is the smartest thing I’ve heard in a really long time.” I then proceeded to pass out.

I woke up in a hospital. My family was surrounding me. Most importantly
I Was Safe

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