She called at 11:32pm.

“911, What’s your emergency?”

“I..I..I think there’s a m..m..man here to k..kill me.”

“Okay, calm down. Deep breaths. There’s police on the way.”

She explained that a hooded man was standing about 25 metres away from her sliding glass door, sauntering toward the house. The snow poured down, blurring his figure slightly, but a faint reflection shone through the storm; a knife in his hand.

She was microwaving popcorn at the time she noticed him. Each pop coming from the microwave made her flinch. I heard it in her fearful voice as she explained everything to me. She cried, making each sentence choppy and difficult to understand.

“P..P..Please P..Please hurry up. I don’t want to die! He’s coming closer! I’m gonna die!”

Each sentence faded into a horrifying sob, and I had to try my hardest to continue to speak in my unsympathetic, monotone voice. I instructed her to lock the door, and stay in the house. She did as I asked, then continued to beg me to get the police to get there faster.

I told her they would be there soon. I thought they would be there soon. I hoped they would be there soon. She lived so far into the woods that it took at least 20 minutes longer than it should. If the police could’ve gotten there.. She wouldn’t have…

“AAAAHHHHHHHH”

The most petrifying sound I will ever hear. The sound of that girl’s scream as the hooded figure used his shiny, newly purchased knife to pierce the youthful skin of her neck. Then, I heard the loud thump of her new phone hitting the ground, and the cold, terrifying voice of that man. He was laughing. A horrible, proud laugh that pierced my soul and made me want to strangle him through the headset I was wearing.

The man picked up the shattered phone, and began to speak to me. A cold rushed over me as he spoke, describing the scene of the crime, describing her cold, lifeless body. He dropped the phone when he was done, into her deep red blood, which was flowing into the cracks of the floorboards.

When I heard about the crime afterwards, I was told what happened. The police saw wet footprints on the oak floor of the living room, and came up with a conclusion.

She called at 11:32pm. She reported a man outside in the snow. But little did she know, the figure she saw on that horrible night, was actually a reflection.