Home Wrecker

He had a sick feeling as he rushed home. His head was pounding, his pulse racing, bile clawing it's way up his throat. Deep down, he'd been scared all along. He knew what that man was capable of. At one point, he'd thought maybe it was over, that moving far away, all the way back to New Jersey, would solve all their problems and they could live happily ever after.

His breathing was erratic, he didn't have asthma, but if he did he imagined this would be what an attack felt like. It only got worse when he finally skidded into his usual parking space in front of the apartment building. Flinging his door open, he raced through the snow that was slowly turning to dirty sludge in the sudden unexpected heat that had shown up that afternoon.

He wrestled himself up the stairs, fished the key from his bag, and jammed it into the door, opening it to a quiet apartment. Hesitantly, he stepped through the door and into the living room. The space was small, so he could see the kitchen entrance and the hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom all from where he stood.

He stayed quiet, listening for any movement. From the kitchen, there came a gentle thump and a low groan.

"Oh Gerard, could you come to the kitchen, I wouldn't want you to miss the show."

Notes

This is the prologue except it's really set in the future so I don't know just tell me what you think...