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The Journals of Raymond Brooks 17
realized I had probably known he was coming, and made sure to
leave a house dispossessed of all evidence as to our existence.

He was right at something.
I made a single mistake though. In my hurry, I neglected to
clear the basement floor. He found the hatch, and listened
carefully for any sign of movement. Benny didn't trust his
night-vision goggles well enough and had to be extra careful.
The basement housed two more bedrooms, a second kitchen
and plenty of storage space. It appeared to him that this was
where we really lived, judging from the disarray.
The hunter was very alert now. At any moment I could jump

him. He found my bedroom — a larger room with a hand-carved
medieval looking bed. The room was as silent and dark as a
bat cave at dawn, and he shivered realizing just how alone
he was. In the darkness, no one would hear him scream. His
breath quickened, and turning left behind the open door, he
saw my toilette, my perfumes and makeup. Next to them was a
closed bathroom door. Turning sharply right he saw my closet.

He searched for me under the bed, then in the bathroom.
Afterwards he opened the closet. There were a variety of
dresses and sexy women's wear there. Some scarves, hats
and a few too many shoes. Noting standard size, he must have
realized I was really small or appear to be in my teens.
The other adjoining bedroom belongs to my late father. It
housed a simple, single-sized bed, a smaller closet and a few
personal belongings. The room appeared mean compared to
my magnificent bedroom. It's true; Raymond settles for the

bare minimums while lavishing everything a girl could ever
want on me.
Obviously I wasn't hidden there either. The rest of the three
bedrooms were likewise empty.