A loud thud woke her. Sarah paused for a minute to look around, remembering where she was. The electric lantern glowed softly beside her. All was quiet for a moment. Then, footsteps. Her heart jumped in her chest. Could the police have found her already? She jumped up, grabbed the light and took cover behind a broken dresser. As the footsteps grew close, she flicked off the light and listened in silence.
The sound stopped, then a dull light flooded the room. Worried that she might be detected, she squeezed her body against the back of the dresser, hoping to make herself smaller. The footsteps continued again. Who would live down here, she wondered. She was sure that it was vacant. Sarah peeked out carefully. The figure was large, quite large- heavy and sturdy. A white hockey mask covered his face. Just looking at him sent shivers down her spine. She wasn't one to become easily frightened, given all that she had done and seen, but his face was unsettling. With one strong hand, he spun the stone and sat down. Then she saw it- a machete. What was he doing with a machete? A loud grinding echoed through the room as he began to sharpen the blade. How long would he be there? He could be there all night! And here she was, trapped in a corner. The only thing that gave her solace is that if this...man...was here, then she was sure he would give the police something else to worry about.
She leaned against the side of the dresser and waited. And waited. She watched him until she lost track of the time. How long had he been there? An hour? Two? It drifted into boredom, then annoyance. If she had sought shelter at 7ish, she was probably asleep for maybe an hour. It was probably around 10 or 11. He would have to sleep soon. When he did, that's when she would make her escape. But as more time passes, it didn't look like he was going to sleep.
Just as she was about to give up hope, he stood, grabbed his machete and stalked out of the room. She didn't budge in case he came back, but a loud thud in the distance announced his departure. She stepped out from behind the dresser, taking the lantern with her, and headed for the trap door, eager to get out of there. She climbed up the ladder and opened the door.
The moon was still high in the sky. Maybe not as much time had passed as she had previously thought. She let the metal door close with a clang.
She wasn't sure where she wanted to go, but she knew that she couldn't stay there. Yet, she couldn't help but feel like it would be safe to stay nearby. She could live off his resources- food, light, water, shelter if needed. Who knew how long she would have to stay out here until the heat died down? She could sneak in at night for shelter, steal the food she could not catch herself. But if she got caught... Thoughts of the machete flooded her mind. Why would he need that? Even if he caught game in the nearby area, surely a machete wasn't the best weapon to use.
She walked for a half mile and found some shelter beneath some trees. The dirt did little to cushion her exhausted body, but it would be enough for now. She stared up at the stars twinkling overhead and thought about the events that brought her here.
She started stealing at an early age. The crowd that she had gotten involved in we what her mother called "the bad crowd". Mom had been right. The mundane shoplifting soon turned into full blown breaking and entering. She stole everything from jewelry to TVs to computers -whatever she could carry out the door. It was wrong, but Sarah was selfish. It got her enough money to do whatever she wanted. If she ran out of money, another theft and she was set.
It had been so easy to break in after the people had left for the night. The night that came back to haunt her was April 18th. She had broken into a house with Kerri (a friend of a friend) after she had seen the man and woman leave for the evening. It wasn't the first time that she had worked with a partner, but something about Kerri didn't seem right. Nonetheless, Sarah needed money and another pair of hands meant more money.
They had all the time they wanted and took their time collecting the easiest stuff to sell. But when Kerri went upstairs, something unexpected happened. Someone else was home. An elderly woman, probably the mother of the two who lived there, came out from a bedroom.
Sarah heard the sound before she even saw the gun. She had never seen so much blood. It kept pouring out all over the carpet. The woman stared at her with accusing eyes, gaping at her, taking ragged breaths of air. If they had called 911 then, they might have been able to save her. But they didn't. Kerri seemed totally unfased, just staring at her. Sarah wondered how many times she had done it before to become so cold. She dropped the jewelry she had been carrying and ran. Kerri caught her before she could leave and slammed her against the wall. In fear that Kerri would turn the gun on her, Sarah promised to stay silent. Kerri shoved the jewelry back in her arms and told her there was still more to take. She stepped over the dying woman only to dig through her jewelry box.
Afterwards, Sarah returned home broken. She had trouble letting go at first and though it still dwelled inside her, gnawing at the guilt in her stomach, she found a way to not think about it. The old woman was dead. There was nothing else she could do. Life still went on, until all her sins began to catch up to her.
The snap of a twig caused her to sit up. Someone was coming. She pulled back into the shadows and watched from an opening in the trees. The large figure, the one in the mask, stepped into the moonlight. Sarah watched as he passed. As his machete turned in the moonlight, she caught the sight of blood on it, fresh and still dripping. Yet, as far as she could tell, he didn't carry any meat. So what was the blood from?
He paused in the clearing for a moment, unmoving and not appearing to look any which way, and then continued on through the woods, towards the area with the trap door.