Make sure you have read Part 1 and Part 2 before you read the dramatic conclusion!

The House Guest: Part 3

Two uneventful weeks went by.  

Stephanie never let her guard down, but Her edge wore off after a few days.  She realized she had built up fear in her head.

She didn’t feel like herself anymore.  It was such a weird feeling to be in your body but without the ability to feel it.  She moved through her feelings on autopilot, as if her choices were not hers anymore.  

Despite her efforts, her emotions forsook her. She blamed her lack of sleep for them running out on her.  She hadn’t slept well since he stood over her in her bed. The fear of him shuffling back into their room kept her sleeping with one eye open.
Kevin left for a meeting with a potential client, so it fell to Stephanie to take Jo his eggs, something she had stopped looking forward to. As she cracked the eggs into the skillet, the broken eggshell reminded her of her emotional state.
With breakfast made, she sighed as she lifted the tray and took it downstairs. She paused outside the door, trying to bring the courage to enter the room in her own house that she now feared. Finally, she knocked on the door and waited.
“Is that my breakfast?”  He shouted through the door.
“Yes,” she replied with a forced happiness. She felt terrible that she couldn’t shake the fear he generated in her. The fear crept up in her mind and took root there.  He was a frail old man who could barely walk, yet she felt scared of him.
She opened the door.  
“Oh, hello. I didn’t realize I was gonna get such a pretty lady to bring me food this morning.” He flashed her his big smile, the one that had haunted her dreams.  
“Kevin had to go in early today.”  She whispered, her voice as weak as her confidence.
“Well, come sit with me,” he said as she put down his tray.  She wanted to listen to his stories as much as she wanted a root canal, but she wasn’t seeing any way out of this one.  
She sat in the chair next to him while he smacked down his eggs.
“Kevin tells me you’re scared of me,” he started.  She could feel her face turn red with rage.  She would have to talk with her husband when he got home.  “Don’t worry, he didn’t want to tell me.  He came up with some other story about why you wouldn’t come talk to me anymore.”
“You said something that frightened me before.”  She admitted a stone was lifted from her chest.
“Well, I’m sorry,” he said.  “What was it that I said that made you so scared?”
“That you slit your wife’s throat.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” he chuckled between bites of eggs.  “Very funny.”
She cocked an eyebrow as she felt her shoulders finally slump.  The tension she had been holding for weeks was finally gone.  She examined reality and realized how worked up she had been, how she had believed something so outlandish.  A smile even began to spread across her lips.  “I’ve been silly.”
“Of course, I didn’t slit my wife’s throat,” he took another bite of eggs with a chuckle.  “I did that to my brother.”  
She looked at him. He glanced at her.  She raised an eyebrow as if he were playing with her.  She laughed.
“No, I didn’t slit my wife’s throat, I hung her in the backyard.”  He stopped laughing.
 The tension was suddenly back in her shoulders.  She couldn’t find her breath.
Then she felt it.  The knife used to butter the toast for his breakfast was now sticking out of her stomach.  She staggered back a step, her hand coming up to the blade still stuck in her abdomen.  She turned toward the door.  It was only steps away, and if she could make it to the door, she might be able to save herself.  
“You got some fight in ya after all,” he said as she stumbled forward.  She was almost to the door, but her vision was narrowing.  She wasn’t sure if the pain from her stomach was so bad that she couldn’t feel the pain or if her body had stopped allowing her to feel.  She didn’t think she would be able to make it to the door.  
He chuckled behind her. She knew that if she fell right here, that she was done. It was the only thing that made her keep going. 
The door opened as she reached out for it.  Kevin stood there waiting for her.  His eyebrows lifted in surprise.  
She fell into his arms as the last of her energy left her.  
“What happened?” He asked.
“He stab-“ she started.
“I couldn’t wait anymore.”  The old man said.
“I told you it was just going to be a little longer. You should have waited,”  Kevin said as he eyed the knife in her chest.  “The butter knife?”
“Well, you wouldn’t let me use the good stuff,” he responded.
“She was worth more than that,” she heard as the world around her faded to black.

The End

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