A DANGEROUS ENTICEMENT

Cindy Pov....

A thunderous thud jolted me awake, the sound so deafening that my eardrums pulsed in protest. I struggled to open my eyes, which felt like they were held together by superglue. My mouth opened in a yawn, and I groaned, my arms instinctively throwing themselves above my head. "Who could possibly be banging at my door at this ungodly hour?" I mumbled to myself as my cold feet slid against the icy floor, letting out an involuntary squeal.

"Get your dumb ass over here and open this godforsaken door!" A loud scream, sharp as a blade, pounded against my ears, shaking me to my core. Before I could recover, another loud bang erupted from outside my door, making the room tremble around me. My heart hammered in my chest as I stumbled towards the door, my shaking hands fumbling with the handle. As I pulled the door open, I was met with a familiar face, scowling at me in the morning light.

"Curse my luck!" I thought to myself. I was supposed to leave for work early to avoid any trouble with the landlord, but he must have caught on to my ruse. My heart sank as I realized my mistake. A surge of panic shot through me as I scrambled to find a way out of this mess. The walls seemed to close in on me as I fought to stay calm. Now, he was at my door, ready to pounce like a cat with a mouse. My stomach twisted into knots as I considered my options. I had to think fast, or I'd be in big trouble.

As I stood there, frozen in terror, the landlord's voice rang out again. "Come on, Cindy! I don't have all day. Open the door or else." His words felt like a weight pressing down on my shoulders. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands. I knew I had to act quickly, but I didn't know what to do.

"So you weren't expecting me, were you?" the landlord said, a smirk playing on his lips. I forced myself to meet his gaze, even as my heart pounded in my chest. Inside, I was screaming, but on the outside, I kept up my act of rendering a fake smile.

"You think you can outsmart me, Cindy? You think you can keep running from me forever? Don't you realize that your tricks won't work forever? You can't keep hiding from me forever. The stench of your lies and deception hangs in the air around you like a foul cloud. How long do you think you can keep this up?" The landlord's words were like a slap in the face, and I could feel my cheeks burning. I wanted to say something, to defend myself, but the words stuck in my throat. As the landlord shouted at me, my body began to tremble. I felt like a small child being scolded by a parent, helpless and powerless. My hands clenched into fists as I tried to control my emotions. But inside, I was seething with anger and resentment.

As the landlord shouted at me, I felt my stomach twist into knots. "Why is he being so unreasonable?" I thought. "I've been doing my best to pay him back, but it's not easy when I'm barely making ends meet." I tried to keep my face calm and neutral, but inside, I was fuming. "How dare he talk to me like that? I'm not a child to be scolded!" I wanted to shout back at him, but I knew that would only make things worse. So I bit my tongue and stood there, feeling small and powerless.

I felt my eyes fixate on his face, unable to look away. I searched for any sign of compassion or understanding, but his expression was cold and unyielding. His eyes were hard and unforgiving, and his jaw was set in a firm line. It was like staring into the face of a stone statue. No matter how much I pleaded or reasoned, he wouldn't budge. I was trapped, frozen in place, with nowhere to go and no way to escape.

"I am sure you are not deaf." He stress, after minutes of watching me remain silent so I dim fit as the right time to speak.

"I'm sorry if I've been slow to pay you back," I said in a calm, measured tone. "I'm doing my best to make ends meet, but it's not always easy. I appreciate your patience and understanding." My words were carefully chosen, and I tried to keep my expression neutral. But inside, I was trembling with fear and anger. One wrong move and I could lose everything.

After I spoke, I glanced quickly at his face to gauge his reaction. But his expression remained stern, and I knew he wasn't convinced. My shoulders sagged as disappointment flooded through me. But then I remembered something important about Mr. Noah: he was actually quite a soft-hearted person. If I could just find the right words, I might be able to change his mind.

My lips entangled in a sweet smile as I finally found the right word to say, "My mom is suffering from cancer, and I used the last money with me to pay for her treatment." I lied. As I spoke, my hands trembled and my voice wavered. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I forced a smile onto my face. I had to make this lie convincing. I tried to sound convincing, but deep down, I felt like a fraud. I was worried that my lie would be exposed and that I would be in even more trouble. I held my breath, hoping against hope that my deception would work.

"I promise I'll pay you back before the weekend," I added, my voice cracking. I was relieved to see my landlord's angry expression soften, replaced by a look of concern. Perhaps I was getting through to him.

"Why didn't you say this before?" he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. "I'm willing to give you an extension until the end of next week. But if you can't pay me back by then, I'll have to take action." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I felt a knot of worry in my stomach, knowing that I was running out of time.

"You dirty pervert!" I muttered under my breath as he walked away. I had half a mind to grab him by his threadbare collar and give him a piece of my mind. My mother was a good woman who'd never done anyone any harm and he just made me lie against her. I imagined myself slapping him across the face, and the thought made me feel a little bit better. But I knew violence was not the answer. I had to find a way to make things right.

As I watched the landlord disappear down the hallway, I let out a long, slow hiss, like the air escaping a balloon. I walked back into the apartment, my eyes falling on the wall clock. It read 6:30, and panic suddenly washed over me. I had less than an hour to get ready for work, and I knew I couldn't afford to be late again. My boss had warned me that I was skating on thin ice, and the last thing I wanted was to lose my job.

In the dimly lit room, I stood in silent contemplation, my gaze fixed upon the chilling reflection in the mirror. As I stripped away each layer of clothing, a sense of unease settled over me like a shroud. And then I saw it – a dark mark, almost a bruise, that had inexplicably taken up residence on my chest. Its presence seemed to defy all reason, as if it had appeared from another realm altogether.

"I repeated the words to myself, trying to drown out the burgeoning unease that gripped me. 'No time for reflection,' I whispered to myself, as I retreated to the shabby bathroom. I knew I couldn't afford to be distracted, not now, not when I needed to focus on the task at hand. I had to keep moving, to press on.

As I stepped under the shower's cold spray, I shivered. The water seemed to seep into my pores, carrying away the exhaustion and stress of the last few months. But the cold couldn't wash away my worries. I was haunted by the feeling that I was trapped in an endless cycle of work and worry, with no end in sight. My mind was filled with the bills I had to pay and the responsibilities I had to shoulder. And the clock on the wall just kept ticking, a constant reminder that time was running out.

As I walked down the street heading to work, the morning sun warm on my face, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I wasn't expecting any messages, but I was curious just the same. When I glanced at the screen, my heart stopped. The name on the screen was one I never wanted to see again. What did they want? I could only imagine the worst.