cliffhangers are awful <3

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Skylar's POV

"Ms Anderson, are you sure you saw a person breaking into your house?" The tall police officer asked me.

I swallowed, wrapping my arms around myself. If it weren't for that intimidating gaze of his, I probably might have not stuttered.

"Y-Yes. I saw...I mean, I didn't see anybody. But my bedroom, everything was trashed. And there was this...these words written on that wall mirror."

I looked over at the same mirror and so did the police officer. There were no words written on it. My room wasn't trashed either.

Everything seemed so perfectly fine.

Oh God, I thought. Why was this happening to me?

The officer, who looked kind of irritated by now, turned around and looked across my room once again. Probably searching for any source of forced entry. There was nothing.

The other police officer, a woman who seemed a lot less scary than the man in front of me, came out of Nova's bedroom and looked at me.

"There's no such proof of a break-in, ma'am. Not a single thing you've been saying. I'm afraid you must've...mistaken it." She raised her brows at me.

Mistaken it.

How could I have fucking mistaken it when my whole bedroom had been trashed right before my own eyes?

And I don't mean trashed in a way it usually is (thanks to my untidiness). No, it wasn't just that. My room had been a mess. Every book from my shelf was thrown across. The stacks of my canvases were disrupted. The pillows were on the floor. My wardrobe was open and my clothes were everywhere.

I'd seen all that the moment I came back to my apartment. It had already been a long tiring day out at Mrs Marshall's flower shop downtown. She happily took care of Chicken sometimes and I helped her out at her shop to repay her favour.

I'd been doing just that until I came back home.

I even got a call from Mom on my way back. Everything had been so fine.

"So?" Mom asked over the phone. "Will you be coming over on the weekend?"

"You guys are staying?" I suppose it still surprised me to find my parents not so busy on their business trips these days.

"We are." She said. "It's been so long since we did one of those family get-togethers, don't you think? I might even invite some of your aunties and uncles."

She sounded fucking excited at that. I didn't even bother holding back a groan.

Mom laughed at that. "You'd have fun, Skylar. Don't be such a buzzkill."

"Um, okay?" I rolled my eyes. "I don't know about you, Mom, but all those aunties and uncles creep the fuck out of me."

Mom sighed. I suppose she really wanted me there at that get-together since she didn't say anything about my foul language.

"I'm sure Chicken would love to visit." She wasn't wrong. "And you can see Caden too?

Well, she got me at that.

"Okay, okay, geez, Mom. You and Dad must miss me a heck lot."

She laughed again. "'Course we do, Sky."

See? Everything had seemed perfect. I'd had a heartwarming conversation with my mother over the phone. I was walking back home with my cat. Looking forward to some nice takeout for dinner and a nice nap too.

It wasn't until I was actually inside my apartment and felt the cold enveloping me--colder than the apartment should've been--that I started feeling a bit paranoid in the gut. Our apartment was usually warm as compared to the cold nights outside.

But it wasn't then. And I soon found out why.

The windows were open. My bedroom windows were open. The lights were on. And my room was trashed.

There were big red letters painted across my wall mirror.

I had hoped, at that moment, that it was just lipstick and not blood. But it turned out to be one of my own paints, a dark crimson, and just about wet--telling me that whoever had done this had been here probably just seconds ago.

I could ruin you without even trying, sweet Skylar.

I suppose my freaking out was pretty justified. I had run back out of my apartment, downstairs and frantically looking around for the guard (whose existence, not surprisingly, was nowhere to be found). I'd dashed to the tiny lobby near the entrance of the building and called the police.

I didn't even know what I had been expecting at that point. Sound of footsteps? Some guy to emerge from upstairs? Someone to kidnap me? Every worst thing.

The police had shown up a few minutes later, asking me to stay behind as they checked on my apartment. I'd been right outside and waiting for them (probably anxiously biting on my nails with Chicken close to me). And then they'd come back out and were a whole lot confused since they'd found nothing in my apartment.

Absolutely fucking nothing.

That's why we were here now.

All the mess inside my room was suddenly nowhere to be found. My books were back on my desk (if not on the shelf), my wardrobe was closed, the canvases were back in a stack. Even the windows were closed shut. There was no sign of any threatening message written on my wall mirror.

It very nearly would've convinced me that I was going insane.

Only if Chicken hadn't mewled at that exact instant, circling around a smudge of red paint on my rug. It all had been real. I hadn't imagined it. I didn't.

But it wasn't like those officers believed me. Even if I was still freaking out.

"I'm not lying." I shook my head at the officers. "Why would I--look, I'm sorry. I know this looks unbelievable, but it was trashed. Someone broke in. There was..."

I trailed off because both of them were staring at me now, probably done with me and my stupid reasonings.

"We can look through the CCTV footage across the street if that'll put you to ease." The lady officer suggested.

I pursed my lips and stared at the window. The window that had been open minutes ago.

"We should get going." One of them said. "We'll contact you, Ms Anderson, if we find anything related to what you filed the report for."

I nodded, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. God, I felt scared. I wished they wouldn't leave me alone here.

Almost as if someone up there heard my silent wish, Nova showed up right then, with her brother right behind. I was alarmed to see him but then I remembered Nova telling me that he'd be staying over for a few days.

God, could this get any worse?

"Hey--" Nova stopped midway when she noticed the two police officers. "Officer Pierce." She looked at the lady officer. They both seemed to know each other--which, hey, couldn't get any worse.

"And Officer James," Kyle added with one corner of his lips turning upwards in a smirk.

I was a mess and I think Nova saw it since she raised her brows at me. What would I say when she asks me about these police officers? More importantly, what if it had been Kyle?

I suppose I was overthinking it once again. But could anyone blame me? Not after Kyle had purposefully been giving me that knowing smirk yesterday. And then that whole talk about Caden? How was I not supposed to doubt Kyle?

"Nice catching up with you two. It would be better though, if we leave now. Duty calls." Officer James responded with a polite smile. I'd never felt more embarrassed than I did at that moment.

Once they both left, Nova gave me an odd look.

I ignored her and picked up my bag which was thrown across the couch, ready to go into my room and probably not come out for a whole day.

"Why were they here, Skylar?" She asked.

It wasn't the question that left me jumpy. It was the circumstance we were in. Taking in a deep breath, I turned back around and faced her.

"Nothing. They just stopped by for some...stuff." I said, directing a glance towards Kyle. He didn't look like he was interested in what we were talking about.

What if he really was the one who did this? He knew Caden. He must--

"What stuff?" Nova asked.

"Look, I'm exhausted. Can we not talk about this right now?" I pleaded. Nova didn't seem like she would let it go, but she didn't say anything right then either.

I took that as my cue to pick up Chicken and head for my room, gladly closing the door behind me. Chicken jumped up on my bed the moment I placed her down, letting out a soft mewl.

I stared at her before sliding down against the closed door, pulling my knees against my chest and hearing my heart thud so loudly.

I was frightened. Confused. So confused.

Everything around me felt unreal. A nightmare that I didn't want happening again. I didn't want break-ins again.

No, I thought. God, no.

My palms were clammy with sweat as I wiped them against my jeans, looking up at the window.

Someone must've come inside my room when I went down to call the police.

The same person who wrote me that letter.

This was bad. Worse than I had thought.