"Another blind date, mom?" He looked at my outfit; sweats on the bottom and a pretty blouse of light blue on top. "You look pretty, Mom."
"Thank you! I feel pretty."
"Thank you! I feel pretty."
"This one is agoraphobic, so we will have our first date here, or there." I was multi-phobic, so had a complicated life at best.
"Sounds good! Need some condoms?" He laughed, as did I. "Ha ha, smart ass."
I gave myself a pep talk and made sure the camera angle diminished my emerging double chin. I was sneaking up on fifty and gravity was taking its toll.
He was online suddenly, watching me fluff my hair.
"Oh! Hi, Daniel!" I know I blushed.
"Sorry, didn't mean to catch you mid-fluff." We both laughed; great ice breaker.
"How is the outside world, Julie?"
"More of the same... I went to the grocery and the prices are sky high, but nothing eventful."
"Back before dark, right?"
"Oh yes! My after dark hours are over." It was so cool to have someone who understood.
"What are you other phobias, if you wanna tell me, I mean... " He smiled softly.
"The usual, really: heights, spiders, stuff like that." No one, not even my shrink knew all I was scared of and would never know. No one could be trusted with that knowledge.
"What are you other phobias, if you wanna tell me, I mean... " He smiled softly.
"The usual, really: heights, spiders, stuff like that." No one, not even my shrink knew all I was scared of and would never know. No one could be trusted with that knowledge.
Our 'date' went well and we planned for tomorrow night as well.
The kids were gone for the night, a sleepover at Dads, so I checked all the doors and windows an extra time, leaving lights on timers to go on and off at random times.
I dead bolted my bedroom door and sealed the space where dark might come in. My phone was under my pillow and my gun was holstered under my night stand.
I looked around. What else? The TV was on TCM and I lowered the lights. Sleep...
The clock glowed 3:33 AM and then went black. My phone worked though. I tapped 911 and told them I may have an intruder.
"A noise awakened me and now the power is out!" I said breathlessly.
"Officers are in the neighborhood, Ma'am. Stay where you are and they will come to you."
I stayed on the line. "The officers are at your bedroom door. You are safe now." She disconnected. How had she known I was in the bedroom?
I looked out the peephole and there was no one there. My kids were too far away to help.
I called Daniel. He couldn't come, but could dial 911 from his number.
No answer.
I called my neighbor, but no answer again. I was hyperventilating, so I grabbed my paper bag, my tranquilizers and tapped in the code for my panic room. The door sealed and it came to life.
Daniel was in my house! The cameras recorded everything. I took a tranq and breathed into my bag. No one could get in here.
He broke down my hardwood bedroom door with an ax. I was fine.
He found the camera and began to speak.
"What a loser you are? How many phobias do you have? Jesus! You need to die."
I was safe. There was no way he could get in. My land line was still live so I dialed my shrink and then 911. I hoped it was the real one this time.
Time passed slowly, so I checked all the dates on my supplies, muting the CCTV volume so the maniac couldn't be heard. I could see him in my peripheral vision though. He was planted in front of the CCTV and I wondered what he was up to. Was it a diversion? I looked at all the other views and saw nothing amiss.
Surprised at my calmness, I patted myself on the shoulder. Glancing at the camera, I saw him make a show of dousing the bed with gasoline. A match or lighter would be next and my house would burn down around me. My steel box would be all that was left. Luckily, my ventilation was multi-routed just in case this may happen.
He tossed a match and my bed went up in a flash. There were no curtains or carpet so that is all that would burn unless he emptied my closet, which he did next.
I saw him turn to laugh at me and then his forehead exploded. Thank goodness someone had arrived! I had no bed, no clothes, but I had my life.
Hours passed and the smoke cleared and my burned items were removed.
The firefighters talked to me through the two way speaker.
"You can come out now, Julie." One said.
"No thanks. I am staying in here." The firefighters looked at each other.
A female firefighter was sent next, but I still wouldn't leave. I had made the decision to live in my panic room.
Next was my shrink. I waved to him and thanked him for getting help, but I still wasn't going to leave.
"Are you going to live in there forever?" I nodded.
"Who will bring you food and see to your needs?"
"My children, a home health worker, neighbors... " I smiled and felt wonderful. No one could hurt me in here.
"How long can you live in there?"
"Ah ah ah, no, no, I am not telling you. Maybe you were the one that gave him the info in the first place." I looked at him wide-eyed and watched as he whispered to a detective.
I zoomed in and recorded their conversation to have my lip reading program translate it later. They were all in this together. I knew it, but they didn't know I knew it.
I doused my lights and kept recording and slept the best sleep of decades.
***
My children were there when I awakened. I waved and smiled while I keyed the two way.
"Mom! You can come out now!" They both pleaded.
"No, no! I am fine, just fine."
"Your food will run out and your water."
"Then I will die in here, safe and sound. It is so relaxing in here! I haven't felt like this since, since the first event." I soured for a moment and then was back.
"The doctor thinks you should come out too."
"So? He probably set me up with that fake agoraphobic! I don't trust him!"
"Do you trust us, mom?"
"Of course!"
"Will you come out while we are here?"
"Nope! It is a trap. Time for breakfast! Talk to you later." I darkened the window and cooked my food while reviewing the recordings. They talked about having me committed, of course. I knew it! I can see me in some crazy psych facility living with crazies. I would rather die alone and safe.
***
Two weeks passed and they saw I was fine and security slowly backed down. When it was down to one old security guard, I made my move. I cranked open the door to the crawl space where I had stashed the body of the panic room designer and left. I just walked out of the neighborhood, dark wig in place and a padded coat so I looked heavier. I also wore heavy rimmed glasses.
My spare car was in a rental garage about a mile away. I keyed in my code and then slid into the nondescript, but brand new Toyota. I had an old friend rough it up a bit so it was inconspicuous. I tested all the lights and anything that could get me pulled over. All was well.
I had cleared out my vault and took my fake ID's, credit cards and cash. I stashed my jewels and all my old ID's. I was ready to hit the road.
I was close to the border of Texas, so headed south. I would become invisible within the day. I rented a room for a week at La Quinta near Galveston, Texas and then went shopping for dark brown hair dye, Wal Mart clothes and anything that would help me blend in with the masses. I even bought crappy food so I could put on some weight.
After a week, I left and headed for Brownsville, Texas, just across the border from Matamoras, Mexico. I found a job at Waffle House, but was terrible and was fired. I went to Wal Mart and found a job in the home section.
No one would recognize me here. I wore stretch pants, too tight, with a tummy now and sensible shoes, no make up and even filled in my designer eyebrows.
I was invisible. All I had to do was rid myself of my fingerprints and it was done. Funny how disappearing helped me fear less,
The fingerprinting changing was the worst part, but now I was pretty much lost to the old world. I jumped from job to job in Brownsville and decided to just stay there and make some friends.
Not many wanted to hire me with such scarred hands, but one old man, with poor vision, hired me for his hardware store. I learned every product and every way I could think of to use each as a weapon.
My boss was obsessed with wanted posters and also had a section of missing persons. My face was there, well the old one. I chuckled at it. I looked nothing like that anymore, I had dark hair, thick eyebrows, no makeup, fake glasses and had gained about twenty pounds, I also had no fingerprints now.
He rented me the room above the store so I never had to leave the place if I didn't want to. I took him to the grocery once a week and bought mine then too. I slumped over and maintained my new persona when I was out.
In the checkout, I saw my kids on TV and choked. Luckily the old man pounded me on the back and no one noticed. I listened to their pleas, but wasn't affected by them. They just wanted me in an asylum. No one noticed me in the line as the person on TV.
***
Life went on. I was the old man's eyes now and was fifty pounds heavier, I would die alone and fat, invisible and sick... excellent! I was happier than I had been in years, but also felt terrible physically. I had to stop eating some of the crap food and get back some of my health. I could still hide, thirty pounds lighter.
I lost ten pounds and began to feel better, but still looked gross to myself. My job was fun since I had to keep things very organized and priced. I was a little OCD too, so that helped. When someone knocked over a whole bin, it was heaven and hell at the same time.
***
Years passed and the old man died and left me the store. He was a good guy. The same customers came and I was getting older, but kept my weight just below feeling sick. I still had to hide. He had married me, at my request, so I had a new name too.
I was set: new name, my own business, money and even a little home. No one was ever allowed in the upstairs apartment though. That is where I would die in any number of ways, taking any number of people with me.
They had no reason to go up there though, so I was happy. I ate all my meals at the diner and worked and then hid in my room until the next day. The diner was open seven days a week so I was too. The rural folks loved having a source for broken tractors and parts on the weekend.
***
My hair is white now and I sleep on a cot in the back of the shop. Those stairs stopped me, except once a week for tending the traps. I ate at the diner about once a day; not much appetite anymore.
Old doc said I was dying and that was okay with me. Said I was eat up with cancer and gave me all kinds of medicines to take when I was ready to lie down and rest.
I had to write a letter first. I told them not to go upstairs for it was rigged with bombs and I wasn't sure I would be able to defuse them all before I died. I told them who I really was and thanked them for a good life. I told Old George and Bertie to use the money I left them in the Will to rebuild or move on.
I pinned the big envelope on my nightgown, marked "DON'T OPEN UPSTAIRS ROOM! BOMBS!"
***
I took a mess of pills and some whiskey and then some more pills. I was smiling, last thing I remember. I wasn't scared of anything anymore...
Time passed slowly, so I checked all the dates on my supplies, muting the CCTV volume so the maniac couldn't be heard. I could see him in my peripheral vision though. He was planted in front of the CCTV and I wondered what he was up to. Was it a diversion? I looked at all the other views and saw nothing amiss.
Surprised at my calmness, I patted myself on the shoulder. Glancing at the camera, I saw him make a show of dousing the bed with gasoline. A match or lighter would be next and my house would burn down around me. My steel box would be all that was left. Luckily, my ventilation was multi-routed just in case this may happen.
He tossed a match and my bed went up in a flash. There were no curtains or carpet so that is all that would burn unless he emptied my closet, which he did next.
I saw him turn to laugh at me and then his forehead exploded. Thank goodness someone had arrived! I had no bed, no clothes, but I had my life.
Hours passed and the smoke cleared and my burned items were removed.
The firefighters talked to me through the two way speaker.
"You can come out now, Julie." One said.
"No thanks. I am staying in here." The firefighters looked at each other.
A female firefighter was sent next, but I still wouldn't leave. I had made the decision to live in my panic room.
Next was my shrink. I waved to him and thanked him for getting help, but I still wasn't going to leave.
"Are you going to live in there forever?" I nodded.
"Who will bring you food and see to your needs?"
"My children, a home health worker, neighbors... " I smiled and felt wonderful. No one could hurt me in here.
"How long can you live in there?"
"Ah ah ah, no, no, I am not telling you. Maybe you were the one that gave him the info in the first place." I looked at him wide-eyed and watched as he whispered to a detective.
I zoomed in and recorded their conversation to have my lip reading program translate it later. They were all in this together. I knew it, but they didn't know I knew it.
I doused my lights and kept recording and slept the best sleep of decades.
***
My children were there when I awakened. I waved and smiled while I keyed the two way.
"Mom! You can come out now!" They both pleaded.
"No, no! I am fine, just fine."
"Your food will run out and your water."
"Then I will die in here, safe and sound. It is so relaxing in here! I haven't felt like this since, since the first event." I soured for a moment and then was back.
"The doctor thinks you should come out too."
"So? He probably set me up with that fake agoraphobic! I don't trust him!"
"Do you trust us, mom?"
"Of course!"
"Will you come out while we are here?"
"Nope! It is a trap. Time for breakfast! Talk to you later." I darkened the window and cooked my food while reviewing the recordings. They talked about having me committed, of course. I knew it! I can see me in some crazy psych facility living with crazies. I would rather die alone and safe.
***
Two weeks passed and they saw I was fine and security slowly backed down. When it was down to one old security guard, I made my move. I cranked open the door to the crawl space where I had stashed the body of the panic room designer and left. I just walked out of the neighborhood, dark wig in place and a padded coat so I looked heavier. I also wore heavy rimmed glasses.
My spare car was in a rental garage about a mile away. I keyed in my code and then slid into the nondescript, but brand new Toyota. I had an old friend rough it up a bit so it was inconspicuous. I tested all the lights and anything that could get me pulled over. All was well.
I had cleared out my vault and took my fake ID's, credit cards and cash. I stashed my jewels and all my old ID's. I was ready to hit the road.
I was close to the border of Texas, so headed south. I would become invisible within the day. I rented a room for a week at La Quinta near Galveston, Texas and then went shopping for dark brown hair dye, Wal Mart clothes and anything that would help me blend in with the masses. I even bought crappy food so I could put on some weight.
After a week, I left and headed for Brownsville, Texas, just across the border from Matamoras, Mexico. I found a job at Waffle House, but was terrible and was fired. I went to Wal Mart and found a job in the home section.
No one would recognize me here. I wore stretch pants, too tight, with a tummy now and sensible shoes, no make up and even filled in my designer eyebrows.
I was invisible. All I had to do was rid myself of my fingerprints and it was done. Funny how disappearing helped me fear less,
The fingerprinting changing was the worst part, but now I was pretty much lost to the old world. I jumped from job to job in Brownsville and decided to just stay there and make some friends.
Not many wanted to hire me with such scarred hands, but one old man, with poor vision, hired me for his hardware store. I learned every product and every way I could think of to use each as a weapon.
My boss was obsessed with wanted posters and also had a section of missing persons. My face was there, well the old one. I chuckled at it. I looked nothing like that anymore, I had dark hair, thick eyebrows, no makeup, fake glasses and had gained about twenty pounds, I also had no fingerprints now.
He rented me the room above the store so I never had to leave the place if I didn't want to. I took him to the grocery once a week and bought mine then too. I slumped over and maintained my new persona when I was out.
In the checkout, I saw my kids on TV and choked. Luckily the old man pounded me on the back and no one noticed. I listened to their pleas, but wasn't affected by them. They just wanted me in an asylum. No one noticed me in the line as the person on TV.
***
Life went on. I was the old man's eyes now and was fifty pounds heavier, I would die alone and fat, invisible and sick... excellent! I was happier than I had been in years, but also felt terrible physically. I had to stop eating some of the crap food and get back some of my health. I could still hide, thirty pounds lighter.
I lost ten pounds and began to feel better, but still looked gross to myself. My job was fun since I had to keep things very organized and priced. I was a little OCD too, so that helped. When someone knocked over a whole bin, it was heaven and hell at the same time.
***
Years passed and the old man died and left me the store. He was a good guy. The same customers came and I was getting older, but kept my weight just below feeling sick. I still had to hide. He had married me, at my request, so I had a new name too.
I was set: new name, my own business, money and even a little home. No one was ever allowed in the upstairs apartment though. That is where I would die in any number of ways, taking any number of people with me.
They had no reason to go up there though, so I was happy. I ate all my meals at the diner and worked and then hid in my room until the next day. The diner was open seven days a week so I was too. The rural folks loved having a source for broken tractors and parts on the weekend.
***
My hair is white now and I sleep on a cot in the back of the shop. Those stairs stopped me, except once a week for tending the traps. I ate at the diner about once a day; not much appetite anymore.
Old doc said I was dying and that was okay with me. Said I was eat up with cancer and gave me all kinds of medicines to take when I was ready to lie down and rest.
I had to write a letter first. I told them not to go upstairs for it was rigged with bombs and I wasn't sure I would be able to defuse them all before I died. I told them who I really was and thanked them for a good life. I told Old George and Bertie to use the money I left them in the Will to rebuild or move on.
I pinned the big envelope on my nightgown, marked "DON'T OPEN UPSTAIRS ROOM! BOMBS!"
***
I took a mess of pills and some whiskey and then some more pills. I was smiling, last thing I remember. I wasn't scared of anything anymore...
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