Arianne was painfully remembering what had happened to her mother that night. A bloody knife. Her so-called "father" had killed Arianne's mother, Susan. He had walked into their life and he had gained their trust and he had killed her.
Blood dripped from the knife. A dark pool of blood formed around her curled up body. She lay there, motionless, lifeless. She was dead. He walked over to the closet where Arianne was hiding. He opened the door with so much force, it left a hole in the wall.
"No, don't–" Arianne pleaded.
"Get up! Now!" John cut her off, screaming. She shrank back against the wall. "Now!" he repeated. She reluctantly stood up, shaking all the while, as she stepped out of the closet. He pushed her and she stumbled, falling towards the direction of the door, the direction in which he had pushed her.
"Please!" She cried out. She held her arms close to her body.
"You better not tell anyone! Not the police, no one, or I swear to God, I'll kill you!" He yelled at her. "Got it?"
"Yes! Please, just don't hurt me!" Ignoring her pleas, he grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her up. She cried out.
"Go!" He pushed her out of the door and followed her to make sure she didn't run away.
More tears ran down her face as she thought about everything. Arianne had tried to forget that memory ever since, but for some strange reason, it just kept coming back.
"No..." she moaned; she could feel a headache coming on. She gently tilted her head back and leaned her head on her shoulder. She looked up, after realizing that she felt someone staring at her. She turned her head slightly and saw him sitting in a far corner, watching her. She tried to disguise this glance over her shoulder as looking around the room to take in the view or really just to make herself look less suspicious. It obviously didn't work. "Oh no." That was all she said.
She slowly turned her head back around and picked up her phone but hesitated. He had specifically told her to keep it quiet, to never mention it to anyone. But this secret was killing her. She couldn't hold it in any longer. She walked over to the privacy of a corner and hid behind several people that were just standing there. She crouched down and pressed 9-1-1 and than 'Talk' and held the phone to her ear.
"911, what's your emergency?" A kind voice asked.
"My name is Arianne Sommers. I wanted to report a murder. It happened a long time ago but I was too afraid to report it. He said he would kill me!" She could feel tears threatening to spill but she had to compose herself.
"Okay, who is this man that threatened you?"
"He's my step-father, John Wilson. He killed my mother and then...and then he...set her body on fire. He told me not to tell anyone. But, he's here with me! I saw him and he was watching me."
"Okay, miss, just calm down and tell me where you are. I'll tell the local police department and they will send a team to get him." The woman spoke with a calm voice.
"I'm at Stacy's Bar & Grill. He was standing in the right back corner and he was wearing a dark red t-shirt and a pair of blue denim jeans. He has dirty blond hair and he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Please hurry!"
"Okay the team is on their way." she said. Arianne stood up and looked over to make sure he was still there. He was and he was staring at her. Smiling. It was an almost mischievous looking smile and it scared her.
"Please hurry up!" She whispered to herself. She half-expected him to walk over to her and to grab her out of there and take her home. For him to kidnap her was one thing she didn't want or need right now.
