He Calls a Mansion, Not a House, but a Tomb

I sat down onto my couch, setting the shopping bags onto the floor next to my feet. Just as I closed my eyes, my phone began to ring.
I pulled out my cellphone from my jacket pocket and looked at the Caller ID.
Duck And Cover!!!! is calling
I smiled. Abby.
"Hi, Abby." I answered.
"Hi, Frankie! How've you been?" She asked happily.
"I'm fine." I said, a crack in my voice.
"Sorry we couldn't have dinner last week. Work is being a bitch again." Abby said.
"It's alright. Being a tour manager and all, I would assume you have to travel a lot." I smiled.
Abby laughed. "Yeah, so how's writing going?" She asked. I frowned. I had been working on my current story sparsely, mainly focusing on observing Gerard these days.
"It's going fine." I lied.
"Because Richard told me you haven't been updating your manuscripts as much as you would usually." Shit.
"Uhh... Yeah, I'm in a bit of a Writer's Block right now. It'll pass, though, I know it." I assured her, knowing that Richard will call Abby before he would me.
"Okay. Good luck. Oh-- Gotta go." Abby said. I smiled.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later." And we hung up.
I sighed, biting my lip as I looked around the room. I decided to put away the groceries before anything else.
I kept Gerard's bag's contents in a separate section of the fridge. He had bought a carton of eggs, milk and butter. It seems he organizes his groceries by storage method.
I returned to the living room, bored as ever.
I noticed a flashing red light on my end table across the room. From my answering machine. I sighed. Everyone calls me when I'm not home. Only Abby, apparently, has the psychic abilities to know when I'm home.
I walked over and pressed the Play button, oblivious to the chance it could have been--
"Frankiee... It was really mean of you to stand me up on my offer--"
I deleted the message. I sighed.
"End Of Messages"
I took a deep breath, glanced at my laptop, and then headed towards the hallway, up the staircase, to my bedroom.
I laid in my bed, sheets up to my chin, my head against my soft pillow. I laid in the middle of the bed, staring up to the ceiling. I was afraid to fall asleep. Every time I hear his voice I always have adream nightmare about him.
My eyelids quivered, begging to be closed. My mind took control, forcing them to stay open. But, sadly, my will power isn't strong enough to hold off exhaustion.

"Frankiee..." The same taunting voice loomed in the dark air as it crept over me like an aura of unadulterated dolor. I covered my ears under the palms of my hands, praying the sound would disappear.
"Frankie, where are you?" I felt cold finger tips make their way up my chest underneath my shirt. I shivered. "You're beautiful." The voice said. Cold lips pressed against my neck and left my skin literally as ice.
I felt the same cold fingers pull down my zipper and pull down my pants. I whimpered at his fingernails pinched my skin as he grabbed my thigh. "It won't hurt at all." The voice lied into my ear, cold breath brushing down my neck. I attempted to let out a scream, my throat sore and hoarse. No sound came out. I felt hot tears run down my cheeks, stinging my skin.
I let out a silent scream as he thrust into me, my spine practically breaking from the force. My tears ran down my neck, tickling the skin. He kissed my frozen neck, biting the skin. Blood ran with the tears as I was put through this torture.

I awoke, screaming, in my bed. My hand snapped over my neck, feeling liquid. But no wound. It was only sweat. My breathing was heavy.
It was dark through my window. I could see the twinkling stars as they sparkled happily in the sky.
I shifted and felt a sharp pain run up my spine.
"Some dreams shouldn't come true." I muttered to myself before laying down onto my stomach. I flipped my pillow over and rested my cheek on the cool material. My eyes kept wide open. I felt my tear ducts work their magic as tears began to fill my eyes and run over my cheeks.

"This is not a good day." I muttered, picking up the broken mug off the floor. Today it seems I'm clumsier than Tracy was on her first day at the diner.
"I'll pay for that. I'm sorry." I said, seeing a pair of feet appear next to the spilled mess on the tile floor.
"It's alright, Frank. It's pay-back for the times I spilled stuff on you." Tracy laughed. I smiled and looked up at her. "What's up today? You seem out of it." She commented. I shrugged.
"I'm just tired... I couldn't sleep last night." I explained shyly. Tracy frowned.
"You want anything else?" She asked. I shook my head, looking back to the table.
"You sure?" I nodded, my eyes fixed on the flowers in the center in the table.
"You know you look like a kid when you pout like that." She said. I looked up.
"I was not pouting!" I whined. Tracy laughed.
"Okay, I'll see you." She said before answering a waitress call at the other end of the diner. I flashed a half-smile at her, and looked back to the broken pieces of the cup I had picked up off the floor.
I returned the pieces to the counter along with a twenty dollar bill to cover the replacement and the coffee I had been drinking before I dropped it.
I headed out into the street, digging my hands into my jacket pockets, hiding them away from the cold December air.
The sidewalks weren't as crowded as they would be in the spring or summer. The cold makes people get cars. I exhaled deeply and a white cloud of breath blew into the wind. I smiled. I'd always been fascinated with little things. Yes, even air! I'm not sure if that's healthy...
I walked slowly down the street, enjoying the fresh air and the crisp breeze. I looked up to tall-standing trees which stood at the entrance way of a park across the street.
"Oof-" I gasped when I bumped into a man on the sidewalk. It's not always best to make contact with people in New York. They're friendly until you talk to them.
"I'm sorry." I said, making my way around the man, looking to the ground shyly. Miraculously, I wasn't bothered.
I found myself on a small crossing bridge which stretched over a highway. I looked over the railing just to see as the speeding cars flew by.
I looked ahead of me and saw familiar long, black hair. His face grinned at a woman who he stood with, talking to. I frowned. Gerard stood at a news stand, in his hands a thick newspaper to which he paid no attention to.
I walked ever-so-slowly forward now, watching only them.
The woman had long, curly, blond hair and she wore a black trench coat which was laced with a pink belt around the waist. Strange idea.
Gerard laughed at something the woman said and stopped suddenly and motioned her with his index finger to wait. He dug through his pockets frantically for a moment and pulled out his cell phone.
He answered with a smile. The conversation included having the woman say hello to the other speaker, both smiling as she did so.
Gerard's gaze turned to me, his smile disappeared from his face.
"Hey, watch out!" I heard a scream from behind me.
I turned quickly, only to be bashed into by a hood of a car. I would have thought I would scream, but I made no sound. I gritted my teeth as I felt shooting pains up and down my left leg. I dropped to the ground, hitting my head on the frozen snow and ice that stuck to the sidewalk. Breathing through my clenched teeth, I cursed at the pain I felt in my ribs and forearm.
I closed my eyes, refusing to look at the blood. If I had, as soon as I saw the blood I would have cried.
I heard people screaming around me. "Call an ambulance!" A woman cried.
"Call the police; this guy's in trouble!" I would have glared at the bastard who put the law in front of life.
Somehow, in the chaos of all of this, one voice made it through to my brain.
"Gerard, let's go!" A woman cried. A small smile flickered onto my face, somewhat happy that Gerard doesn't see me this way.
I heard sirens coming closer. I tried to stay awake for the paramedics, opening my eyes for small durations of time, but the light stung and made my eyes water. I closed my eyes when I heard someone say "Okay, he's going to be alright. Let's get him out of here..."