aaaa this made me so nervous; it took me forever to write because it made me feel inexplicably soft even though it's kinda sinister lmao
A calm light set along the rolling hills as evening arrived. Quiet, safe, uneventful. Typical for Woodsboro, or so it was before. The town moved through the days in a panic now.
"I'm home," she sighed to no one, dumping her bag of dead weight under the sidetable. Wrenching her shoulder after such relief was probably Wesnesday's highlight.
A phone chimed persistently through the house. Kitty hopped in place, dissociating the sound from action, as she listened to it ring. Three or four cycles passed before the caller cut it short, and it was quiet again.
She faced the phone as it activated again, with a low, strangled cry. She didn't want to take the chance like before. That taunting voice - that wouldn't leave her head - it could be on the end of any call. Clenching her palms, she paced about the sidetable in which the phone resided, breathing as deeply as the situation would allow to dissuade the ever-common palpitations in her heart. It was like swallowing a wad of hard gum. The ringing stopped again, leaving a silent house.
Kitty huffed, rushing into the kitchen. It'd probably be a good two hours before dinner, if she didn't have to make it herself.
This time, she was answering. Giving that creep a piece of her mind, whether it meant her life or not. Whatever. She'd only be another story for the news cycle anyhow. If escape wasn't possible, that is. With this goal in mind, she snatched the phone off the table, slapping the side of her head with it.
"Oh," she finally breathed, "Billy."
"I'm... not. I just don't feel like talking on the phone." Reception was shaky; she realized her hand holding the phone had been trembling since the mention of his name.
"No. I'm fine," she answered quickly, apparently sounding afraid. She never told him about the other calls.
"You sure? I could come over."
"Nah, don't. I have a lot to do... a lot goin' on." Nope. "I'll see you tomorrow, though." Or tonight, if he was bold.
"Around the house... gotta make dinner... homework... and I should go ahead and get to it. So, bye. I'll talk to you later."
"Keep talking to me. I like the sound of your voice."
"What?" Her voice rised incredulously. "My voice is... dumb. It sounds weird on the phone."
"Actually, you're my favorite person to call."
"Whatever. Listening to you is so much better. I hate talking on the phone, anyway."
"After all those times I've called you?"
"A little bit," she chuckled. "But I love talking to you anyway... if you don't mind my stupid phone voice."
"I wanna hear more, I told you."
"Yeah, you did," she replied, twisting happily, "and that makes me feel a little better. I guess."
A pause. "Hey, is something up? You can trust me."
"I said it was nothing... it's fine. I guess I'm just tired from everything."
"Okay," she smiled audibly, mood somewhat lifted from the confirmation, but still in no mood to talk, "bye." Impulsively, she added, as if it were the first time ever, "Love you."
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