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194 | FRANCESCA P E NN

            Cold dread shoots up my spine and tickles the hairs on the back of my neck.
        We had a movie night once. We’d watched thrillers. Shit! Shit! Shit! I turn around
        and speed back towards her house. I type in a number and it dial.

            “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
            “I have a strong reason to believe my girlfriend is being held hostage by her ex!”
            “Strong reason.”

            “Look, let me give you the address. Send cops, then I will explain. This is
        important.” I ramble off the address. The operator repeats it then, I confirm.
            “Sir, why do you think she’s in danger?”
            “He’s been harassing her. I went to her house to visit, and he was there saying
        they were back together, but she is nowhere to be found. I demanded she call me.”

            “But, sir…”
            “Let me finish. It will all make sense. She called. She told me he loves her like
        Ali Larter loved Idris Elba. That’s from the movie Obsessed. Ali stalked him. She
        tried to hurt him, his wife, and his child. She also said he was there because he loved
        her like Mark Wahlberg loved Reese Witherspoon. That’s from…”

            “Fear,” The operator supplies.
            “Exactly! Then she said once I process…she used the word ‘process’… what
        she’s telling me, she highly suggests that I talk to a professional like Halle Berry
        when she had a terrible wig. We watched The Call. She was a…”
            “9-1-1 operator!”

            “Yes! So, I’m calling. And just in case I didn’t get that reference, she referred to
        all the heroes in the Person of Interest show. They save people in danger. She also
        said maybe we could have my favorite beer. We both hate beer. She’d once told me
        if she were ever in distress, she would say something out of character.”
            I jump out of my SUV and run to the back. I should be able to see her room
        from the backyard.

            “I just made it back to the house,” I whisper. “I can see her.” I move a little to
        the right. “He’s holding her at gunpoint. Yelling for her to take off her clothes.”
            “Sir, do not engage. The cops are a few minutes out.”
            “Tell them to step on it. His name is Teo. He looks angry. He has shoulder
        length black hair. He’s about five-seven, He is wearing dark jeans and a red shirt.”
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