ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴍᴇ (ᴇᴊ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

6: Hindsight

        Your morning had been a lot more hectic than you'd hoped. Having to rush to work after zoning out at a Waffle House that you hadn't noticed was an hour away wasn't exactly ideal. The drive back to town was messy, and you may or may not have cut off a few drivers. Not only did you not know where you were, but you also didn't want to be late for work. The GPS's system was outdated and sent you off the wrong exit twice, making you turn around and try to figure out a route that actually functioned. Your stress levels had been bad before, but this morning's rush made it rise even higher.

When you got to work you were out of breath. You were tired and a bit dizzy as you stumbled through the door. By the time you'd parked, you were already ten minutes late so you'd ran the rest of the way.

Ms. Marley seemed startled by your sudden entrance. "Y/N! Gosh, you scared me!"

"Sorry... I uh... didn't want to be late." You said, gulping down as much air as your lungs would allow.

"Ah, don't worry about it, honey. Mornings here aren't too busy."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Right- yeah. I'll go ahead and start..."

After catching your breath you leaned against the wall next to the closet. Now that you were here and things were back to normal everything had slowed back down. Since you weren't worried about making it to work anymore your brain finally had room to process last night, and what it could mean.

The killer, that man with the blue mask, had found you inside your car and toyed with you. Car windows weren't easy to break, but it definitely wasn't impossible. Any sharp object would have let him into your car before you'd had any time to escape. Even when you did escape he hadn't done anything to stop you. He hadn't blocked the car with his body, slashed your tires, anything. He'd let you go.

You couldn't figure out why. You knew he wanted you dead, but then why just mess with your head by scaring you? Even though you knew the motive and now the disguise he wore, you couldn't figure him out. You had no idea what his next move would be, whether he'd keep on tormenting you or finally get it over with. Both options were terrifying yet vastly different. One gave you time to think and time to try and make a plan, while the other would force you to fight for your life.

Your mind drifted back to Carson's words. Pack everything and leave. At this point, it was all you could do to prolong your life, but you didn't want to leave. Everything, everyone you had was here in this town. You didn't want to have to get used to a new area or find a new job, and even if you did relocate you doubted the killer would just stop hunting you. He'd find you again, and then you'd be back to square one with even less support.

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you tried to shut off your mind. You didn't need to be freaking out right now, you needed a plan.

As you started to sweep the floor you decided sleeping in the car probably wouldn't work again. If the killer wanted in, he'd get in, especially if he got to the tires before you noticed him. Then there was a hotel, but that wasn't sustainable. Your payload wasn't anywhere near enough to allow you to blow hundreds of dollars every week on top of paying your rent. Lastly, your apartment. You could block the window and adjust the lock to make sure it was impossible to open it, even from the inside. After your door was fixed it could work. You hoped it would at least.

Or you could leave, but you still wanted to believe that was out of the question.

Out of all four options boarding your apartment up as if the apocalypse had hit seemed the most reasonable. That way you wouldn't have to abandon your life, but you could also make yourself decently safe if you did it right. There weren't any random planks of wood strewn about your room, but you did have some things that could at the very least act as obstacles.