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Rated: E · Fiction · Thriller/Suspense · #1899443
Thriller Short Story - you might want to start paying attention to your Barista
It was a dark and stormy night. The day had started out mild and sunny, but as time went on, the weather turned bad and continued to worsen until by the time Amanda returned home from work, she was drenched and cold.

         Amanda raced through the lobby of her high-rise apartment building to the bank of elevators and hit the “up” button. She waited what seemed like an eternity before the elevator arrived. She rushed inside, pushed the button for the fifth floor, then stood shaking and cold the whole way up.

         As she left the elevator and walked down the hall, she fumbled around in her purse for her keys, cursing under her breath for still not having her purse organized.  Her fingers finally found the key ring and she unlocked her apartment door. Once inside, she shut the door behind her, leaned back, and let out a slow, satisfied sigh.

         Maybe it was the pounding thunder and driving rain, or perhaps the early darkness of the evening, but something set Amanda’s nerves on edge. She stood still for a couple of minutes, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. She took a quick look around the living/dining room area, still dark because she hadn't turned on any lights yet. The occasional flash of lightning provided the only light. Nothing looked out of place. She shook off the strange feeling and started for the bedroom.

         There! The balcony drapes were open a bit in the middle. She always closes them before leaving for work in the morning. With heavy feet, she walked toward the balcony. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and gingerly parted the drapes to look outside. Everything looked as it should. The few pieces of patio furniture she owned were in the same place as always.

         Amanda realized her behavior was childish and gave herself a stern talking to as she flipped on the lights and headed back toward the bedroom to get out of her wet clothes and put on her oversized, fluffy robe.

         Coming out of the bedroom, dry and warm, she felt much better. All earlier edginess was gone. She made her way to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate--the perfect drink on a cold, clammy evening.

         When the chocolate was ready, she poured it into one of the antique teacups she recently found at a yard sale and headed to her upright piano. She put the cup down on top of the piano, parted the drapes so she could watch the storm, and sat down on the bench to practice hymns for Sunday's services.  She had just played a few stanzas when movement caught her attention off to her left. She looked in the direction of the balcony and suddenly the doors flew open and a man stepped into the room.

         She jumped up and started screaming.

         “Shut up,” he said, taking a couple big strides, closing the gap between them.

         She turned and dashed for the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. As she picked it up to punch *9 for the guard’s desk, she felt her arm being twisted backward. The phone fell to the floor. She managed to break out of his grasp and take a couple of steps as he said, “It won’t do you no good to call for help. I tied up your security guard and locked him in the janitor’s closet.”

         If only I had been paying attention when I rushed through the lobby, I might have realized that Harry wasn’t at his desk--that something was wrong and gone looking for him, she thought.

         Just then there was a flash of lightning, followed by a thunderclap so loud it shook the walls. Darkness descended upon the apartment. She could hear him moving around, trying to find her. She stood still and tried to slow her breathing, hoping he wouldn’t know where she was.

         FLASH. BOOM. The storm was gathering in intensity, lightning strikes coming mere seconds apart now instead of minutes. FLASH. BOOM. She got her first good look at her intruder as he turned to look at her when the lightning flash lit the room.

         “I know you,” Amanda said, astonished. “You’re that guy who works at the coffee shop a couple of blocks over.”

         “Yeah, I’m THAT guy. So you have noticed me, after all. All this time you never seemed to pay no attention to me.” He punctuated his last remark by swinging his arm in an upward motion just as the next lightning strike came. Light glinted off something shiny in his hand.

         “What…why do you have that knife?”

         “You’re gonna learn it ain’t nice to ignore someone. I’ve watched you flirt with the other men in the coffee shop. But me! You don’t never even say ‘Hi’ to me!”

         “That’s not true,” she tried to reason with him. “You are always too busy working to talk. How can I talk to you when you’re scurrying from one task to the next without so much as looking up?”

         “Don’t lie to me! You’re just trying to confuse me. I’ve tried to talk to you but you ignore me and go sit with one of your boyfriends. I know how women like you are. You think you are so much better than me just ‘cause I ain’t smart and didn’t go to no fancy school.”

         “Why don’t you put that knife down so we can talk,” she said softly, trying to calm him down.

         “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d pick it up and stab me in the heart.”

         “No. I wouldn’t do that to you, Kyle,” she said, finally remembering his name. “I realize I haven’t been very nice to you and I’d like to make it up to you.” As she spoke, she took a few steps toward the balcony. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt her chances would be better out there. Maybe she’d be able to yell for help and get the attention of one of her neighbors.

         “I even brought coffee here to you once when you was sick and you still acted like you didn’t know me the next day. You have any idea how that made me feel? I’m tired of being invisible to women. I’m sick of not being good enough. YOU HEAR ME?”

         FLASH. BOOM.

         When the room lit up again, she saw movement on the balcony. She tried to look without moving her head to keep Kyle from noticing. Unfortunately, by the time she got a good look at the balcony, all was dark again.

         “And don’t say my name again. It sounds dirty on your lips. You think ‘cause you remember my name, I’m going to let you go?”

         “No…no…I like your name.”

         “Did you hear that?” Kyle said, looking up toward the ceiling.  “She likes my name. Ain’t that sweet?”

         “Who are you talking to?”

         “Mother, of course. She tells me what to do to women when they make me cry and be sad. She doesn’t like you. She says you’re worse than the others.”

         FLASH. BOOM.

         The sudden flash of light and subsequent thunder caught Kyle off guard. He jumped backward a couple of inches, which brought him to the open doorway to the balcony. Amanda lunged at him. He anticipated the move and took a step to the right. Most of her body missed him, but she managed to knock the knife out of his hand as her left side slammed into him right before landing on the balcony floor.

         He dove for the knife as she picked herself up. She had landed a few feet from the railing and when she looked back toward the building to find Kyle, she saw Harry standing in the shadows. That must have been the movement she saw earlier!

         Kyle picked up the knife and started toward her. She knew she had to keep him from turning around so he wouldn’t see Harry. She wanted to get him closer to the edge of the balcony. She thought Harry could sneak up on Kyle and knock the knife over the edge. Then Harry could subdue Kyle while she called for help.

         She took a couple of steps toward the railing and Kyle followed, as she had hoped. But instead of sneaking up on us, Harry ran at us, tried to get his arms around Kyle, but fell hard against him instead. The railing gave way and they both went sailing over the edge.

         She ran to the edge and looked down.  Kyle lay broken on the sidewalk below. Harry had managed to grab onto the railing as he began to fall.  He was still hanging onto it, close to the floor of the balcony, where it was still attached by a skinny thread of steel.

         Amanda’s neighbor, Ted, had heard the commotion when the railing gave way and came out onto his balcony. “Ted, help, come over here fast!” she yelled.  “Harry’s hanging over the edge and we need to get him up.”

         Ted ran back through his balcony door and Amanda went to let him into her apartment.  They came rushing onto the balcony a few seconds later and in a few minutes had Harry safe and sound on the floor of the balcony again. 

         “Oh, Harry, thank God you’re okay,” she said as she bent down and gave him a big hug.  “How did you get out of the janitor’s closet, and how did you know to come to my apartment?”

         “It took a little while, but I managed to scoot close to the door. I just kept kicking it until somebody heard me and let me out.  I sent him to call 911 and wait for the emergency vehicles, then I climbed up the fire escape to your balcony,” Harry told Ted and Amanda.  “The little bugger talked the whole time he was tying me up about how sorry you were going to be and how you had to pay. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I’m glad I got to you in time.”

         They all stopped talking as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

*

It was a dark and stormy night. 

         She had always wanted to start one of her stories for Fiction Weekly with this catchy, albeit clichéd line, but after her ordeal on her real “dark and stormy night,” has decided to leave it unused, except in her journal.

© Copyright 2012 Lynne Robinson (vinnyfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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