I turned the ignition of Diana's car, ready to leave, but turned it back off when I noticed a car a few feet away parked in front of us. Someone who looked like Brad was sitting down on the passenger's seat and next to him, was someone with dark, black hair and pale skin. He had an earring, a loop on one of his ears and I knew then that it was that guy he had fought with in the sports store. I didn't know who he was, but Brad had called him Patrick.

"Umm, Natalie, can we go?" Tamara asked me. I shushed her and pointed towards the car in front of us.

"Look," I said, showing it to her. Tamara glanced at the car. It was an old, broken down Buick with scratched paint and apparently no air conditioner because I could see that their Windows were open.

"Is that Brad?" Tamara asked. I nodded.

"I'm not sure, but I think so," I replied. Brad kept talking to him in the car.

"Who is that guy? Does he go to school with us?" Tamara asked me. I shook my head.

"I don't think so. I've never seen him before. He called him Patrick," I replied. Brad got out of the car. He seemed to be so worried that he didn't even notice our van.

"The guy's turning the ignition on. I'm going to follow him," I said.

"What?" Tamara asked panicked. I turned on my ignition and followed the crappy Buick.

"Natalie, I don't want to go to jail for this," Tamara said hysterically.

"What are you talking about? You're not going to jail for anything. I just want to see where he lives. I want to know who he is," I replied.

"Can't you just ask Brad about it?" The red light was on the traffic light. I was still neatly behind Patrick and there were two cars in front of him.

"Write his license plate number," I told Tamara.

"Why?"

"Just do it," I said. Tamara was frowning and she seemed pissed, but she opened her backpack and grabbed one of her notebooks and wrote the number. Then, she ripped the page and gave it to me.

"Here," she said.

"Just hold it until I'm done," I replied. The red light turned green and we were moving again. I turned left and right as I followed him.

"What if he doesn't go to his house?" Tamara asked me.

"He has to go sometime," I replied. We finally reached what looked like an old, abandoned house. Patrick parked his car as we stopped a few feet behind of him. I didn't want him to notice that I was following him. Patrick got out of the car and went into the eerily house.

"That's his house?" I asked out loud.

"For all we know, that's not even his house. Could be a friend's place," she said. She was right, it could be a friend's house, but my gut told me that it wasn't. A few minutes later I got out of the van.

"Natalie? Oh my God, Natalie, what the hell are you doing?" Tamara asked me.

"Nothing," I said walking towards the old house. I wanted to see it and feel it.

"Let's get out of here," Tamara complained.

"Be quiet. I want to see if this is his house or if it's someone else's," I said. I searched for a back window. The house seemed deteriorated and I couldn't understand why would anybody live in this house.

"It could just be a place where he likes to hang out," I said. Tamara was behind me at every moment. I could tell that she was uncomfortable, but so was I. The only difference was that I gave a damn about what was going on and she didn't.

I heard some footsteps close by and I hid in the bushes. I didn't know why I did it, but I just did. Then I saw Patrick or whoever this guy was leaving the house and going back into his car.

"See, I told you," Tamara whispered, but I shushed her. When Patrick was finally gone, I decided I was going to knock on the door to see who's house was this.

"Are you crazy? Let's get out of here," Tamara said, but I didn't listen. I knocked on the door. The porch of the house, was old, rusty and dusty. There were spider webs on the ceiling and corners of the arches. I didn't think that he lived here. No one replied.

"Okay, let's go in then," I said.

"Break in? Are you nuts? Forget about it," Tamara said.

"You can stay in the car if you want. I'll do it," I replied.

"And leave you alone? No way," she replied. She pulled my arm, urging me to leave.

"Let's get out of here please. I don't like this place. I have a bad feeling," Tamara said, but I went to the back of the house. I didn't find a back door, but I did see a window. I looked around the background until I found a small stick that seemed thick enough to break the window. I grabbed it and smashed the window with it.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you insane?"

"Shush!" I told Tamara and then I climbed in.

"I'll open the front door for you," I said. I turned around and found a deteriorated kitchen, with a stains, a rusty faucet and dirty dishes. The house also smelled funny. I walked into the living room and there were a stack of clothes, a ripped couch and a broken TV.

I opened the door and let Tamara in. Tamara entered the house.

"This guy is such a pig," she said and covered her nose.

"Men," I said. We walked throw the house and the floorboards creaked with each step we took.

"This house needs a cleaning lady, pronto," Tamara said.

"Yeah. Maybe Gloria can work for him," I said joking.

"Gloria would never work here. It's too disgusting," Tamara said. She hesitated when she saw the set of stairs. Come on," I told her. We walked up the stairs. I could still see spiderwebs and dust everywhere. I sneezed.

"I can't believe that this guy lives here," I said.

"You know, he could be a druggie," Tamara said.

"A druggie?"

"Yeah, you know these people who are drug addicts," she said.

"I know what a druggie is Tamara!"

"I'm just saying," Tamara argued with me. There was nothing but a mattress and a bunch of clothes on the closet.

"Weird," I said.

"What?" Tamara asked me.

"His clothes. They're brand new. Look," I said showing her the ticket to one of his clothes. We walked into the bathroom and the toilet seat was broken. So was the mirror.

"I don't get it. He lives like a bum, but has fresh new clothes," I said.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all," Tamara said. Neither did I. Could this possibly be Patrick's house or... I heard a thump.

"What was that?" I asked Tamara. Then, I heard it again. I heard a light thump, but I didn't know where it was coming from.

"It could be from the pipes. This house needs so much repairment, it's not even funny," Tamara said. I noticed that all of the doors of the house were missing too. I nodded and then we walked downstairs. I heard it again.

"What is that?" I asked and then I walked into the kitchen curiously. I didn't know why, but I opened the refrigerator and looked inside of it. I didn't see anything except for... I screamed.

"Natalie?" Tamara asked me and I shut the refrigerator. Then and there I threw up on Patrick's floor, right in front of the fridge. I was coughing and suddenly ill to my stomach.

"We have to get out of here," I murmured. I could hardly speak. I opened the door. Bang. I fell on the floor. Patrick was in front of me. He had punched me in the face. I struggled to get up, Tamara shouted.

"You're not going anywhere," Patrick said. I finally got up.

"You're insane. We're calling the cops," I said.

"I don't think so," Patrick replied. He grabbed my wrist and suddenly shouted. His hand was covered in smoke. Tamara pushed him aside and he tripped on the floor. She grabbed me and we ran out of the house.

"Come on," she said heaving, but she didn't stop.

"Get in," she said. I opened the passenger's side immediately and got in the car.

"We have to call the cops on him. We have to do it now," I said. Tamara turned the ignition on and drove away. Patrick came running and he hit the car with his hand. We both screamed.

"He's crazy!" Tamara yelled. She stepped on the gas and the traffic light turned red. Tamara looked at her rearview mirror.

"Holy shit," she said and locked the doors.

"What?" I asked and looked behind. Patrick was still chasing us from the street. He was coming toward us.

"Oh my God, what do I do? What do I?" Tamara said with paranoia. My heart was racing too. I was scared.

"Step on it," I said.

"And die?" Tamara asked me.

"He's coming," I told her.

"Nothing's going to happen I locked the doors," Tamara replied. Patrick arrived and began to kick and push the back door.

"Oh my God!" Tamara yelled. Then he began to bang on the window until he finally broke it. We shouted. The traffic light turned green. Tamara stepped on it and Patrick spun against the back door and fell on the street. Tamara rode as fast as she could. I looked behind us.j

"Holy shit. Is he gone?" She asked me and I nodded.

"Yeah. He's gone."