Find Me

17 • Caller

"Who is this?" I snap as I answer the call, my lips pursed together in annoyance. The other side of the line is quiet, like they're wondering what exactly to say. I know who it is, just by the fact that the number had been blocked, but I have to make sure before I decide to rip an innocent person apart, and yes, that has happened before. The poor bloke didn't even know what to say when I was finished screaming at him to leave me alone.

"If you don't answer me, I'm hanging up right now," I warn, grabbing the curtain to the window with my fist and peeking through. The street, as usual, is vacant; there's no person sight. There are a few empty cars, but other than that, there seems to be nothing to worry about.

"Fine," I say, letting go of the drape, which falls closed over the window. I then take the phone from my ear and almost hang up when the person on the other end of the line begins to speak.

I quickly push the phone back up to my ear, just in time to catch the last two sentences he pieces together before going silent again.

"Soon, I'll come for you Melanie," the caller pauses, like he's thinking of what to say. Then, "I'll tell you what your mother really did...you'll be glad I took you away from her."

My eyes flick over to the door, and since I can't trust Mom is still sleeping, put the phone back up to my ear. "What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be glad?"

"June 20th, 2000."

I shake my head, "What?"

The line is silent for a few minutes, and the seconds seem to trickle by incredibly slow. Finally he says, "Ask your mother about June 20th, 2000."

"Why would I do that?"

The line cuts off right after I ask my question, leaving me in utter silence. What does he want from me? Why is finding out about that night so relevant? I toss my phone onto my bed with a small thud. Will finding out what occurred on June 20th, 2000 reveal who my stalker is, and why he's coming after me?

"Stop it, Melanie," I scold myself, shaking my head. "Just ignore it, he's only playing games with you."

Just as I'm about to walk out of the bedroom, Mom opens the door, her face a little paler than usual.

"Skylar, the police are here," she says quietly, pushing the door open a little more. "They want to talk to you."

I nod, giving her a faint smile. "Okay, I'll be down in a couple seconds."

Mom returns my smile, but it's a little colder than usual. When she closes the door, I scrunch my eyelids together and try to regain my composure. I need to snap out of it. I can't let the cops see me shaken up, they'll just ask more questions, and I'll have no choice but to answer them.

Then, a thought runs through my mind. Am I going to tell them about the roses?