"Erin." I called, my eyes narrowed as she continued scanning the floor. She stood at the edge of the room, slouching under my small table as if searching for something.
My eyes wandered on the ground to ascertain what she must be looking for, but I had no clue. What's she even doing here? She doesn't look to be cleaning...
"Erin..." I called again, gliding toward her. "What are you searching for, and how did you get in..." I jangled a bunch of keys in her face, ambiguously hinting that I locked the room before going downstairs.
She remained silent, a smile spreading across her face, which made me roll my eyes in a scoff. She never gets tired, but I wonder what she is hiding behind that smile.
But then a frown etched my face as I noticed her eyes lingering on the keys I was holding.
"Now tell me how you got in..." I asked, tossing the keys onto the table, waiting for a response, but there was none.
She tilted her head toward the table, her gaze still fixed on the keys.
What the hell! What's wrong with her?
My face scrunched up, my mouth parted exasperated as she continued staring at the keys. I had to ask. "Erin, are you okay?"
She snapped her focus toward me, the same smile plastered on her face. She tilted her head, the smiley curve on her lips getting wider by the second.
Oh my God, I better get out of here... she's acting... strange...
I stepped back slowly, making my way to the door. Her eyes followed me with her creepy stare, sending chills crawling over my skin.
With a stride, she shortened the distance between us, her smile fading. "What's wrong, Sarah? Are you afraid of me..." she said, her voice soft and smooth, which sounded a bit like the normal Erin I know.
"No, I'm not... why would I be afraid of you?" I replied, straightening up and standing still, the shiver on my skin slowly diminishing.
God, she did scare the life out of me.
Her brow furrowed as she took another stride. "Then why did you flinch?"
My eyes darted, oblivious to the fact that I did flinch the moment she came closer. "Erin, you've been acting weird since you arrived today..." I said, my gaze softening. "I mean you..."
"Oh..." She interrupted me, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I told you I lost my mother, so I'm still grieving..."
My lips twitched, certainly not buying her excuse for her weird behavior. "I'm sorry; I didn't expect one to grieve in such a way... you've been smiling like, um..." I hesitated, not wanting to offend her. "Never mind... but don't come into my room without my permission. Respect my privacy."
"Okay." She nodded before glancing at the table.
I couldn't help but ask. "Wait, what were you looking for?"
"Nothing..." She responded abruptly, another smile spreading across her face. "I wasn't looking for anything..."
My face contorted, my lips parting as I turned speechless.
She walked past me, retaining her smile, shutting the door with a loud thud. I snapped out of my daze.
She completely freaked me out. I couldn't believe she just denied the obvious and avoided explaining how she got in.
I crouched down, checking underneath the table to find any clue if what she might be searching for, but I didn't find a thing...
I quirked my eyebrow, brushing off my suspicion, but still, her strange behavior was a concern. My eyes trailed around my room until they got to my bedside table. Then I noticed... my diary was nowhere to be found.
Did she perhaps take it?
I was sure she took nothing with her when leaving, or maybe I didn't observe her properly.
I strode downstairs to the living room.
Right there on the glass table was my diary. But there was another problem.
My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widening as I watched Miss Ross flipping open MY DIARY!
My life secrets are in there!
What the fuck? How did my diary even get here?
Instantly, I dashed forward, snatching the hardcover from her and clutching it to my chest.
Miss Ross's eyes narrowed, taken aback by my abrupt presence and deliberate seizure. "What's that for?"
I stepped back, retracting my hands from my chest and holding the diary behind my back. "It belongs to me, and it's my privacy."
Her brow knitted as she stood up from the sofa. "It's yours? I saw my son's name written in there, so I thought it was his..."
I let out a silent sigh of relief; she didn't see past the front page; if not, all hell would have broken loose.
"Na, it's not his; it's mine..." I replied, attempting to turn around and leave, but her next comment made me stop dead in my tracks.
"Crazily in love? With Mr. Clinton?"
Fuck! That's the title of my diary.
My eyes almost bugged out of my socket, my mouth quivering.
"What's that all about?" she asked, her hand on her waist and her face scrunched up.
"Eh... eh..." I stuttered as my eyes locked onto her piercing gaze. "It's not what you think..."
Shit! How do I get out of this?
How will I explain myself? Light bulb, appear over my head, please...
She moved closer, her lingering gaze fixed on me as her head quirked up slightly, nudging me to speak.
"Miss Ross, um... that's not a thing; it's... it's um um..." I stammered uncontrollably, cracking my brains for a better excuse.
But no idea came!
I was usually good at solving situations like this, but this time around, I was at the edge of the tallest mountain.
She eagerly waited, her hand still on her waist without breaking eye contact.
I fumbled with my fingers, smiling awkwardly as I teetered at the brink of running away without responding.
Just as I stepped backwards to disappear, a familiar voice rang from upstairs.
"Don't take that to heart, Mother," he said, slowly climbing down the stairs with his hands in his pockets. "She is a content creator... an aspiring author, to be exact. That's the title of the book she plans on writing."
I batted my eyelashes at him in disbelief...
He came to help me out, and what's that excuse about being an author?
But what choice do I have?
I cleared my throat, then went with the flow.
"Yeah, that's right; I'm an aspiring author. I want to write a romance novel..." I chortled in between stroking the back of my hair.
Oh boy, that was close!
Miss Ross's lips curled up as she slowly nodded. "Woah, that's great! I hope you're not planning to make a living with that..."
I grinned, unable to respond... how could I make a living out of writing when I wasn't done studying for anatomy?
Her smile widened as she stretched her hand towards me. "Can I read the first chapter? I love stories..." she said, her voice dripping with enthusiasm.
Damn it!
How do I get out of this one?