‘Please… please Lord…’ she prayed while running as fast as her legs could, gripping tightly to her phone in her left hand. As she got closer to her destination, she got the feeling again; that fearful feeling that it was too late. She feared she was not fast enough. She was tired but could not stop running. Stopping would mean her doom.

‘Please God…’ she prayed again as she got nearer. She cursed at herself for her lack of stamina as her speed began to slow down.

Hitting her leg on something hard, she stumbled and fell to the ground. Her lips and nose were bleeding.

“Aargh…” she moaned in pain. She tried to stand, but the pain was excruciating. Her right leg was hurt. Now she was not only tired but injured as well.

She tried to stand for the second time, then realised she was not holding her phone. She looked around for the phone as if her life depended on it. “I’m running out of time,” she kept saying frighteningly. Her eyes and hands moved around, searching for it. The last time she looked at the time, it was 7:27 pm.

She needed her phone so as not to miss his call. She must not miss that guy’s call.

“DAMN IT!” she franticly searched.

“At first, I was afraid; I was petrified. Kept thinking could never…” that was the sound of her ring tone. Her phone was closer than she thought. She rushed towards the sound and quickly picked it up.

“I’m here…” she answered the call quickly while panting, but there was silence at the other end of the line.

“He-hello…?” tears were welling up. But, unfortunately, the other person on the line was not speaking.

“Please…” she pleaded. “Please stop this. I was wrong…” she begged with tears falling from her eyes.

“What took you so long, Jean?” A male voice asked.

“I-I-I am sorry, it will not happen again,” Jean quickly pleaded.

“I told you, Jean. I HATE waiting,”

“I-I-am sorry. The phone fell and-”

“Excuses, excuses, excuses. Always giving excuses. I guess it runs in the family.”

“No, I’m-”

“Shush…” he silenced her. “…do you hear that?”

Jean was confused, “…hear what?” she asked in a low tone.

“The ticking clock Jean. Hehehe…” he laughed. “Tick-tock, Jeanny Jean. Tick…tock,” and then he hanged up.

Her heart pounded crazily. Jean checked the time on her phone.

“Oh no,” she cried as she struggled to stand.

Screaming in pain, she managed to stand and resumed running barefooted towards her home, limping on her right leg.

Her house was in view now, but that was not all she saw. There was smoke coming from her home. Jean Panicked.

“No. God, no…” she cried. “EMMA…AIDEN…” she called to her siblings. She kept calling out their names as she got closer to the house.

“EMMA. AIDEN, WHERE ARE YOU?! COME OUT! EMMA… AIDEN,” she called out in frustration, fear, and panic.

She was closer to the gate now.

“BOOM!!!!…”

The force of the explosion sent Jean flying. She fell on her back, hitting her head. For almost a minute, Jean could not move. Her head was pounding; she could hear nothing but a loud ring in both ears. Opening her eyes was difficult because it felt like her eyes were filled with sand.

Though the explosion sent Jean flying, she suffered no severe physical damage; but the blast was loud enough to deafen her ears. Jean shook her head slightly to come to her senses. Her head was bashing. She could barely sit up. Slowly, she rose to a kneeling position, her hands covering her ears with a painful expression on her face. She raised her head steadily; slowly but surely, she opened her eye.

Her eyes widened in shock.

“No…” she whispered. The psycho did not keep his word. She still had about three minutes left. Her hands were shaking, ‘this was not happening,’ she thought. She could not believe her eyes.

She crawled bit by bit towards the house and felt a scorching pain in her palm. Jean quickly lifted her hand off the ground and looked at her palm. There was shock on her face when she saw she had burned her palm.

Looking at the floor where her palm had been seconds ago, she saw broken bricks and glasses and was in disbelief. Then, with trembling hands, she touched the brick with the tip of her fingers and was burned.

Tears were running down her cheeks, her lips quivering.

“No…” she whimpered. It felt as if she was in a bad dream. She looked straight ahead and yelled at the top of her lungs.

The house was in flames.

The explosion was so loud it could be heard from miles away. Not knowing what had caused the blast, some neighbours locked their doors, fearing it could be armed robbers or the beginning of a civil war. Some neighbours ran towards the sound to investigate. As they drew nearer, they saw the flames.

“Eeeiii! That’s the accountant’s house,” one of the neighbours noticed. Immediately, calls were made to friends, family members, the police station, and the fire service department.

Jean was desperate. “Emma!… Aiden!...” she kept yelling their names repeatedly, hoping that they would come running from the burning house by some miracle.

Jean was sobbing bitterly. What was she going to tell her parents when they got back? How would she explain that a sadistic psychopath burned their home, killing the twins?

“AAAAAAAH…What have I done?” she blamed herself.

Jean was weeping terribly while looking at the burning house.

Her eyes were blurred due to her uncontrollable tears. She thought she saw a car parked outside the compound. She wiped her tears to see clearly and saw that there was a car parked facing the house. Could that be the psycho, she wondered.

She looked for a weapon and found wood from a broken window frame. She picked it up and proceeded to walk toward the car. She could not think straight. At that point, she did not care if she lived or died. All she could think of was revenge. As she got closer, the car looked familiar.

The house was fenced with a transparent wire, five feet high, to prevent animals from getting into the compound. This was because most of the inhabitants were farmers who reared animals for a living, meanly cows, goats and chickens. The fenced wall had two gates; a big one in front of the house and a small one at the back of the house.

She looked closely. The car looked like her father’s Jeep, but it could not be her father's.  Jeeps like that were common in that area. Moreover, her parents were in the city celebrating their anniversary, so there was no way it could be them.

As she got closer, her fears increased. It was dark, but the fire made it bright enough to see. Colour drained from her face instantly. She was living a worse nightmare.