CHOICE: Try to climb over the fence

You don’t take the time to snap a comeback. The guy literally dragged you out of a window!

High-tailing it backwards, you make it to the grill and climb on top of it with the help of some patio furniture Karen had placed “aesthetically” against the fence. Great on her. Doing one thing right for once.

The fence has sharp pointed ends of planks at the top, but you lean over them in your panic, scratching your belly along wood. And, losing your balance, you fall.

Into bushes.

Great.

Whatever. Need to get away from the creep!

A few thorn and nettle struggles later, you manage to dislodge from the shrubbery and take off through your neighbor’s backyard, taking a sharp right into their front. Just make it down the street. Find a phone. Call the police. Plans scurry through your mind with every labored step. Your bare feet are screaming at you to stop, but you can’t. Heart pounding. Breaths shallowing. You’re scared. Legit scared. Have you ever been this frightened in your life before? What if you die from hyperventilating before you reach a phone?

When you reach the sidewalk, you take a left. Just need to get away from the house!

smack!

Somehow, you collide with a body. Or at least it looked like a body. Collapsing to the pavement, you squint up, only street lights guiding your gaze. Yes. It is a body. A body with the sturdiness of steel.

It’s the same man.

He smiles down to you, hands in his coat pockets, slightly red cheeks bunched in amusement. “Bit rude to walk away from someone just trying to help.”

You find your feet easily. He’s not attempting to stop you. Again.

How did he get out here so fast?

“Who are you?” you demand, mind working backwards. No, you’re supposed to run!

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, holding out a hand. “Just here on business.”

He wants to shake hands. What kind of kidnapper is this?

“I don’t bite,” he adds, winking. “Too hard.”

Is this guy… flirting?

It’s hard to tell from that large overcoat he’s wearing, but he doesn’t seem to be strong. And by this behavior, he seems to have a few screws loose rather than a need to kill.

Breaths puff out in front of you. Your toes are freezing. “Freak,” you mutter, hurrying back toward your house.

“I wouldn’t,” he calls to you. “They know where you live, Jamie.”

Your name on this psycho’s lips gives you pause.

You:

A: Turn around and demand answers

B: Continue home. Forget that creep!

C: Rush to your neighbor’s phone.

***Deadline for choice: August 15th, 2017 11 PM Mountain Time***