Greta awoke immediately from her sleep to see me standing there in shock. I was having a lot of trouble just breathing and putting on my pants. Thoughts of what she might have done while I was sleeping roamed through my mind as I stared unblinking into her calm face.
“I asked you and you just smiled,” she said. Now I could hear what she was saying, but apparently it was too late.
“I asked if you were going to repay me with your body and you smiled,” she stated while crawling out of the bed towards me.
“You’re so beautiful when you sleep.” Now I was really scared. She reminded me of the man and I thought it was him dressed in drag. I hobbled downstairs with my pants at my ankles toward the kitchen. Greta was of course in hot pursuit.
When I got to the kitchen I grabbed this huge butcher knife and waved it in her face. She got this disappointed look in her eyes as she put her hands up in the air.
“You owe me,” she whined, her eyes darting from the knife to my boxers. Since I caught that, I moved closer so that the knife was right on her chest. She gasped and stopped looking. That was all I wanted her to do, so I backed off a bit.
“Take my money,” I told her, “just give me the key to my house and leave. I never want to see your face again.” Thankfully I could speak now and that helped to justify my case.
“No, I don’t want your money, I want you! Don’t you understand?” I’d known that, but I was hoping she’d take my offer.
“Besides, if you kill me, do you know how to hide the body? Do you want to go to jail and die there? I know what’s wrong with you Nicky, I know… and it’s so tragic. If you drop the knife, I can help you, I can! I’ll help you through the chemotherapy, just say the word and I’m there!” I would’ve taken that offer in a second, if I didn’t know she was a pervert.
I shook my head and tightened my grip on the knife. Sweat was pouring down my forehead because she was right. If I decided to kill her, I wouldn’t know what to do with the body.
“Nicky, without the chemo, you have about three weeks left to live! You’ll never get the chance to tell your friends and you won’t live to ring in the New Year. Or if you do, you’ll sleep through it because you can’t move. And…”
“Shut up!” I’d clearly had enough now. I was panting and sweating and on the verge of crying. At the same time I thought about how she knew that the guys wouldn’t come with me to the hospital. Then again, it was sort of obvious because I was alone and the guys would support me under normal circumstances.
Greta pushed me even farther though. “You’re dying and if you wait any longer for chemo, there’s not a chance in hell that you’ll survi…”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“Nicky…”
“Get out of my fucking house!”
“If it was a fucking house, I’d definitely…”
“Out!” She didn’t go though. Instead she moved closer to me. I was going insane at that point and she was making it worse. When she got too close, I threw the knife at her ankle and made a deep cut. I couldn’t bend and physically do it myself, but that method worked the same way.
Greta half gasped and stared down at the bright red blood pouring from her ankle. She suddenly got over it and stared at me calmly.
“Don’t be afraid of me Nicky, I know what you want.” I’d forgotten about the psychiatrist part of her. But now it seemed as though she had made that part up to benefit herself.
She picked the knife off of the floor and starting walking toward me saying “Don’t move, Nicky. Don’t move.” The knife was stained in blood and she was pointing it at my chest.
“Well isn’t this a nice predicament? Aren’t you lucky I love you and I’d never ever hurt you?” She puckered up her wrinkly old lips and I stepped backward. My heel hit the counter and I winced in pain. The pants I’d tried to put on earlier were still around my ankles. With one swift movement, I bent down and pulled up my pants. Before she could comprehend what I’d done, I buttoned them up, not bothering with the fly.
I leapt onto the counter and ran across it, going right past Greta. She ran after me and I got as far as the trophy room before she cornered me. I didn’t mean to, but I threw one of my platinum awards at her trying to get away. It slowed her a great deal as I darted upstairs and locked myself in my bedroom. I’m not much of a prayer person, but then I grabbed my cross and prayed.
When I opened my eyes, I saw my cell phone peeking out from under my bed. I dialed 911 and explained my situation. It would only take them two minutes to arrive because my house wasn’t all that far from the police station.
Meanwhile, I hugged my knees and sat on my bed. I had the cross firmly pressed against my chest and even so it had been lying on my dresser for a long time, it was warm against my bare chest.
I could hear Greta call my name from downstairs. Somehow she knew that I would be too afraid to run outside. My body wasn’t stable enough for me to run that long and I bet she knew that as well.
Shortly after, I heard her trudge upstairs. She tried opening the door to my bedroom, but it was locked.
“I know you’re in there Nicky!” she exclaimed and started hacking my door down. It took seven hits before the butcher knife cut through the door. When it did, it left this gaping hole right by the doorknob.
“I can see you!” she shouted and eagerly continued hacking up my door. There was nothing I could do. I would have jumped out the window, but it was too far down and I would’ve died.
Greta finally broke through the door and I pressed my cross harder against my chest muttering, “Please go away,” over and over. Her face was an elaborate concoction of fearless evil as she walked towards me. It felt as though my cross was making her walk slower than she had wanted to.
“I’m not going to hurt you Nicky,” she comforted and threw down the knife as if to prove her point. I couldn’t move away from her as she moved towards me. For some reason I was scared stiff of her, with or without the weapon.
“I just want you to love me like I love you…” she took another step forward and reached out to touch me. When she got close enough she put her wrinkly arms around my waist and rubbed her hands up and down my back. I averted her eyes so that she would know that I hadn’t forgiven her. She didn’t see the signs though and she kept her arms around my waist.
“I never made fun of your tummy,” she said as she pressed her cheek against my stomach. The swelling had gone down from the last time I looked.
This time I gave her a better signal; I used my arms to push her away. But she didn’t let go of me. The police were sure taking their time, I thought.
Greta held onto me tighter as I strained to get away from her. In my haste, I dropped the cross on the ground. I swore to myself and she must have heard me because she giggled.
As I pawed around for the cross, she went over her plans. “You’ll start chemo but that won’t interrupt us from doing anything bad. We’ll be nasty when the nurses aren’t looking. If you’re lucky you won’t relapse. And if you’re really lucky, I might still be able to have kids. I’ve always wanted mini Nickies.”
While she was in her dream world, I was leaning forward to pick up the cross. Greta loosened her grip on me and giggled when I fell off of the bed. Unfortunately for her, I landed between the cross and the knife so I picked up both.
At first it shocked her that I would try the same thing twice then she became angry. She grabbed the handle of the knife and attempted to wrestle it out of my hands. We had a small struggle on the ground for it, then she kneed me in the side and the pain made me loosen my grip.
She was sitting on me now and she was quite a heavy weight. The knife was tucked securely under my chin and she was smiling broadly.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, are you okay?” she rubbed the side she jabbed me with her left hand while holding the knife with her right.
I didn’t answer her though; there was no need to. To scare her off me, I held my breath to make it look like I couldn’t breathe. Before she had a chance to get off of me, the police charged into the room.
I’m not going to describe what they did because it was just routine work. But after Greta was arrested and the police left my house after questioning me, I began to feel alone.
It was the middle of the day by then, a little way into the afternoon and the sun bore down on me as I lay in my bed. I tried to sleep, but it was difficult even with the shades drawn.
I kept thinking that Greta would barge in on me at any moment and finish the job. Or that she wouldn’t be put in jail because she passed as a nice old lady. I was told that the policeman who witnessed what happened would stand on trial for me, but you never know.
When I couldn’t sleep, I called my lawyer and told him the situation. He told me that Greta would either have to plead insanity or go to jail; that’s how solid the case was. It would be wrapped up by morning, he said.
That didn’t comfort me in the least though. If I would have had the energy I would’ve gone to her house and get my house key. But I didn’t, so I laid there worrying instead.
When I got too uncomfortable lying in my bed, I decided that I should take a bath. To make sure, I took anything remotely sharp into the bathroom and hid it behind the toilet. I even took an electric chainsaw in there.
That wasn’t good enough for me though. I moved some heavy boxes with stuff I hadn’t unpacked yet in front of the door. When I was done that, I duck taped the blinds to the window.
As you can probably tell, I was a bit uneasy about doing this, but I felt I had to. I filled the water into my bathtub, which is larger than Mandy’s. Two people could lie in it if they really wanted to.
It took me a while to muster up some courage and actually get in there. When I finished filling the tub, I wondered if I could bathe with my clothes on. I was really going to do that, when I realized that I would catch pneumonia before I got out of the bathroom because I had to remove all of those boxes.
Then I got a better idea. I took the sharpest knife I could find and placed it beside the bathtub. It was my security blanket and it helped me calm down for a bit.
Slowly, I removed every article of clothing. Every time I did, I would pick up the knife and wave it around the room. Nothing ever came though.
I took my time assessing the damage that was left on my body. The bruises hadn’t gone away, but my arms weren’t infected. Somehow Greta prevented that from happening. I had a feeling she didn’t do it with hydrogen peroxide.
My hair felt stringy so I washed and rinsed three times with my coconut shampoo. It was really long and thick and I wanted to keep it that way because I knew I would lose all of it if I decided to go through with the chemotherapy.
I tried not to rub my scalp too hard because I was afraid it would bleed. If I had taken a shower, I would’ve used more shampoo, but I didn’t because anyone can sneak up behind you when you’re enjoying a shower.
I didn’t take off my bandages because the soap in the bath water would have made my cuts sting. As hard as I tried to keep the water off of the bandages, it still got on them as I was washing my hair. Bandages stink a bit when they get water on them too. I made up my mind to teach myself how to change them.
I spent an hour in the bathtub despite my fears. The water kept getting cold so I would use more and more hot water. I don’t think the water was physically getting cold, I think it was just in my mind.
Everything ran smoothly until I got started to get of the bathtub. Just as I had gotten a leg out, something plowed through the window, breaking the glass in one swift movement.
Chapter 18
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