chapter 5: watched

Peyton proved more and more everyday how much of a pain in the ass she was in the mornings.

August needed her time to relax, to slowly wake up on her own time and own terms of grogginess. She needed to sip some coffee and scroll through her phone for about thirty minutes before she could officially get up and get ready for the day.

Peyton, on the other hand, was up and going the minute her puppy brown eyes opened in the morning. August sometimes considered her a crackhead, and morning time as her beloved crack.

"Crackhead," August groaned out with the back of her hand covering her eyes as Peyton pushed open the curtains, causing light to flood their small, cluttered dorm room.

"I consider crackheads the inventors of this generation," Peyton chirped, tying the curtains to the side and opening the window blinds. "Their minds never stop."

"You're referring to yourself in third person, crackhead," August mumbled, turning away from the light. She had managed to get some sort of sleep that night, but the memories of yesterday and her life almost getting taken away by the tall, mysterious woman with black hair and sharp knife began to flood her mind similarly to how the light from the window further flooded the room as her roommate opened the blinds.

"You're just jealous that I have the capabilities to actually get my ass up in the mornings, you shockingly lazy shit." Peyton began to make her bed.

"You weren't so ready to get up yesterday morning, were you?" August mumbled, turning her head over her shoulder slightly so she could tauntingly peek a sleepy eye at her roommate.

"Your dishonesty about being asleep yesterday morning has hurt my feelings. I'm appalled at how you just ignored my complaints of the suffering I was going through," Peyton retorted, softly throwing a pillow at the brunette who simply took the hit and laid still on her bed.

"And your suffering being present because of what exactly? Oh yea, because you downed five vodka shots within one minute and probably ground your ass against a keg of beer all night, along with dicks, too, I assume." August smirked at her comment, proud of her response.

Peyton rolled her eyes as she walked over to her mirror, using her pink hairbrush to comb the knots out of her long hair. "At least one of us is getting some."

"Hey!" August turned her upper body and pointed at the blonde. "I'll have you know I can get pussy anytime and anywhere I want to, from anyone I please."

The only one in the room who was fully awake turned around to face the half-awake one. "Then get some. I haven't seen you do it yet," she replied with heavy sass, although they both knew their words were tinted with invisible playfulness.

"I'm too tired," she moaned, turning back around to curl up into a fetus position. As her roommate simply laughed as a response and turned back around to finish grooming herself, August sighed deeply. She didn't want to leave her bed. But even in her own room, she didn't feel safe. There were eyes everywhere, as that murderous woman had told her before.

♠

She made sure to look left and right before entering the hallway. She had skipped her classes yesterday to stay hidden in her dorm and away from any "eyes" that could watch her, but she couldn't miss another day.

Closing her dorm door very softly, she pulled out her keys to lock it. Hearing footsteps coming towards her, her entire body jumped and she dropped her keys, whipping her head with frightened eyes to where the footsteps were coming from.

It was just a couple of students with backpacks on walking down the hall. She recognized them as students in the class she was on her way to. Her silliness made her shake her head. Picking up the keys, she successfully locked the door and then placed them in her pocket. She began the trek to her class.

Her eyes studied everyone who passed her, looking for any unusual behaviors or any staring longer than appropriate. She searched especially for those crystal green cat eyes.

She spotted a guy leaning against the side of a dorm building as she passed it. He was wearing some rough-looking jeans and a black, zipped-up jacket with the hoodie pulled over his head. He had been looking at his fingernails casually, as if he was bored and waiting on somebody. But the second August's brunette, petite figure came into his line of sight, his eyes snapped directly to hers. Recognition entered them. He pushed himself off the wall, hands in pockets, and began slowly walking in the direction she was.

He was close—a few feet behind her. Her throat constricted and the rabbit in her chest began thumping its furry foot against her heart. She could hear his footsteps on the concrete behind her that was wet from the previous night's rain. His footsteps bounced off the walls of her eardrums, and she closed her eyes as they began blending into the memories of the night before last. The sounds of the footsteps chasing after her as she flew down the sidewalk of downtown Ithaca, the sound of the footsteps of the guy walking behind her, and the sound of the rabbit violently thumping against her chest all blended and mixed inside her head, and she suddenly felt as if the cat-eyed woman was placing the knife against her throat again.

A tap on her shoulder caused her to scream and stumble, hitting her knees on the concrete and all her bags and books falling to the ground.

"August!" Emilia exclaimed, her eyes wide in bewilderment as she stared down at her friend who laid on the ground, chest heaving as she stared up at her with teary eyes.

"Emilia," August breathed, eyes closing as she placed a hand on her pounding forehead. But she perked up, looking behind the fishnet-covered legs of Emilia to see if the guy was behind her. She spotted him sitting on a bench far away, his dark face turned towards them and watching the scene playing before him. He was too far for her to be able to see his face in detail or any emotion written across it.

"I'm so sorry for scaring you like that," Emilia's soft voice spoke as she bent down to gather August's textbooks while she simply stared at the guy sitting on the bench.

Her attention finally snapped back to her friend who was picking up her things. "I-I'm sorry," she breathily spoke, her hands trembling as she picked up her bag. "I was just...out of it." She gave a weak laugh, standing up at the same time as her friend.

"No, don't worry about it. I shouldn't have came up from behind and scared you like that." Emilia handed August her books, looking at her with worry. "Are you alright? Is there anything going on?"

August froze, staring at her. The words of the woman in her dorm began to ring in her head like a church bell ringing in a tornado. "I-um. No. Nothing is going on." She gave a light chuckle, trying to cover up the anxiety crawling up her throat and keeping her from being able to breathe.

"Alright... Well, I just wanted to ask if you and Peyton would come to my art exhibit Friday." Emilia's bright blue eyes were hopeful.

"Yes, of course," August spoke, relieved she was asking her to come to something that wasn't a party or weed-smoking kickback.

"Great! I was going to ask Peyton to come myself, but I haven't seen her all morning."

August laughed and nodded, and Emilia began to walk with her to their class. August responded and chuckled along, making jokes and chatting with her friend, but that watched feeling came over her again. As she turned her head behind her, she saw the same guy walking behind her again, except a bit further back this time. Paranoia built up inside her, but she pushed it down with a gulp and turned back around, carrying on her and her friend's conversation. She decided she would just have to get used to the feeling of being watched.

♠

A week later, August had somewhat gotten used to the feeling. Wherever she went, someone would be around. In the mornings when she left her dorm, there would be someone lingering around waiting. They would follow her to class. At the end of the day, when she went back to her dorm, someone would inevitably be waiting. Even at Emilia's art exhibit, someone was in the shadows watching her like a hawk.

The only time she felt peace was at night in her bed, but even then, the memories of seeing that guy get killed in the alleyway would haunt her. She felt guilt for witnessing a murder and doing nothing about it. She remembered the sound of him screaming for help. She tried to shake it off and remind herself that she wasn't the one who did it, and that it would be crazy for her to risk her life by saying something for some strange man she didn't even know.

She sometimes wondered if the woman was even really capable of what she said she was. But then the sound of flesh being stabbed, and the feeling of the knife to her throat and the green eyes staring right into her own orbs, only centimeters away, would make their way into her mind and quell any bravery she thought she could muster. She couldn't doubt her capabilities.

August declined Peyton and Emilia's begging for her to go to some Halloween costume party. August was sick of parties, and she had only been to two in the whole semester. Her two friends had probably gone to dozens upon dozens at that point, but She didn't mind being the antisocial one of the group. She enjoyed being alone and not having to force conversations and ruin her liver and brain cells with alcohol. Although, she doubted she would ever be able to really feel completely alone for a long time.

On Halloween night, even on her journey to the roof of her dorm building, she wasn't alone. A girl wearing a hoodie followed her to the door where the stairs to the roof led, but luckily the girl didn't follow her up to the roof. August assumed she allowed her just that moment of privacy and simply waited beside the door for whenever August came back out, which she inwardly thanked the stranger for.

The minute she stepped out into the cold, end-of-October air that nipped at her nose, she let out a deep breath—something she had found herself doing a lot lately. She finally felt alone, even if the strange girl was waiting for her down the stairs at the door. She could at least have this short time of peace and quiet.

Sitting down a few feet away from the ledge, she took out her journal from her bag and then a pen. She eyed the edge of the roof, making sure she was a safe enough distance away from it. She had never reached the edge, and she never would, because even the mere thought instilled so much fear in her. Looking back down at her journal, she began writing a poem, something she always did when she came to the roof. It was her time of meditation, a break away from the world and from her friends, as much as she adored the chirpy Peyton and the stoner Emilia.

But her time of peaceful writing was viciously torn apart when she heard the door to the roof open and then close from behind her, the metal clang echoing. Every single hair on the back of her neck raised, and she gulped, seemingly frozen, as she realized that she was not alone on the roof, after all.