My thoughts spiral, crashing into each other, and I can’t make sense of anything anymore. The fear is like a live wire, snapping and sparking through my veins.
The phone buzzes, a long vibration, and I know it’s another voice message. I force myself to pick it up, thumb trembling as I press play.
His voice, a low, taunting melody:
“Incy wincy spider, crawling in the dark,
Hoping that her frantic steps will leave no trace or mark.
But shadows know her secrets; they wrap around her tight.
And every time she whispers ‘no,’ I’m there to make it right.
Down comes the silence, smothering her scream.
And when the morning wakes her, I’ll be inside her dream.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my palm against my mouth to keep from sobbing. My chest hurts, tight and burning. I’m trapped, caught in this endless game where I don’t know the rules.
I text back, fingers unsteady.
Leave me alone. Please.
The response is immediate.
You don’t really want that, do you? You like the chase. You like the fear. I can see it in your eyes every time you look for me. You’re hoping I’m there, waiting to catch you.
I want to scream that he’s wrong, that I don’t want any of this, but the words stick in my throat.
The barista comes over, eyeing me cautiously. “You okay?”
I nod too quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. Just… rough morning.”
She hesitates, like she doesn’t believe me, but eventually shrugs and goes back to wiping down the counter.
I can’t stay here. If he knows where I am, if he’s watching… I can’t just sit here waiting for him to come closer.
I grab my phone and shove it into my pocket, practically stumbling out onto the pavement. The cold air bites at my face, but I keep moving, head down, shoulders hunched. I need to think. Need to plan.
My phone vibrates again, and I can’t help but check.
Don’t leave, Little Spider. I was just about to join you.
I whip around, scanning the area. People walk past, none of them paying attention to me. My skin prickles, and I feel like every pair of eyes could be his.
A man across the street lifts his phone, aiming it at me. My heart stops. Is he taking a picture? Is it him?
I move quickly, ducking into another alley, pressing my back to the wall, trying to breathe through the panic. My phone buzzes with another voice message. I don’t want to hear it, but I know I will. I hit play.
His voice, softer, almost like he’s whispering right in my ear:
“Little spider, little spider, why do you look so lost?
You keep running, tripping, slipping—do you know what it’ll cost?
All your friends, your safe little world, everything you knew,
I’ll take it all away from you until there’s nothing left but you.
