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Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I have no problems with goths and I'm not this whiny or reclusive myself, but I did tend to be when I was Rosette's age. Remember, she is a typical teenager and thinks like one. The writing does not reflect my own feelings.
That is all.

The next morning when I woke up, my neck was stiff and aching. Upon opening my eyes, I finally realized why. I was lying on the couch, remote buried beneath me, with at least the whole top half of me falling off. I immediately straightened up and swiped off the drool that had been forming at the corners of my mouth. Bolting upwards so suddenly had caused me to become dizzy, so I sat still, surveying my surroundings, until it calmed a bit.
It seemed as if last night was only a dream --- more like a nightmare, actually --- I glanced at the tall old-fashioned rack we hung our coats on. Only two hooks were used: my mom’s old windbreaker slung hastily over it, and my neatly hung hoodie. The only thing different from before I went outside --- that is, if I really did --- was a blanket, ruffled from sleep, but still securely tucked around me. I must have grabbed it while I was still in that pre-sleep daze.
So, my going outside really was a dream; more like a nightmare, actually. I slowly slipped my feet off the sofa, dropping the blanket. Everything was hazy in my dream, I recalled as I sluggishly headed for the bathroom. All of it was, except for those molten eyes . . .
I halted
Molten eyes. The molten eyes. I remembered them so clearly, yet everything else was a blur. I could even see the details. What an absurd dream . . .
I began walking again, this time a bit more awake. I practically raced to the mirror to check my reflection. I sighed in relief when I finally gazed at it. There was absolutely nothing to betray my even nearing the outside. No smudges of dirt, no leaves in my hair; nothing.
Weird.
And yet I'd felt so much like I had gone outside. “Well,” I explained to myself, “dreams are just like that sometimes. They're so life-like you swear that it actually happened. And sometimes, you even think of them as memories and not dreams.” I rambled on, still checking myself in the mirror, as I convinced myself more and more that it was nothing else until I had but one doubt in my mind.
I shoved it away and anxiously waltzed down the hall to check the clock. “Aw, dangit!” followed by some…unintelligible things was my response. I clambered up the stairs to my room, feeling the pressure of my late schedule as I threw clothes together then rushed through the usual. Brushingthe mess that was my mane, scrubbing my teeth ---so hurried that I even think I made them bleed ---, and washing my face rigorously. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and stumbled out of the house, fumbling with the keys in my already-freezing numb hand before I locked the door. I sprinted to the bus stop that was somewhat near our road and was out of breath before I reached it.
I really wished someone would be glad enough to take me to school at this moment. But, of course, that wasn't probable. I was hated; I had to admit it sooner or later. And the car I had driven before was my mom’s. She had let me borrow it for a while as she took the long-needed week off. But, now, she had it back. I checked the store across the street’s electronic billboard to find the time. Eight o'clock. I plunged into a string of incoherent murmurings as I glared at the clock. I only had thirty minutes before class started, and, now, it looked like I was going to have to walk.
Life was just great, wasn't it?

I slid into the classroom just as the bell rang. Sighing in relief, I took my seat next to the empty desk in the back. I liked my privacy. Enough said. No heads turned to even glance at me. Nothing changed with Mitchell, I could see: I didn't exist again.
I noticed one of the girls near me got a new haircut. You examine people like that when you've got no one to talk to; it’s the only way to find out the most important things. Her hair had been a long flowing curtain of reddish hair, but now it hung just below her chin, framing her face.
Why did people do that? They were gifted with beauty to just throw away. I wished she would have given me some of the hair that she had probably donated. I'd give anything to have that kind of satiny hair instead of mine. I didn't think auburn hair and gray eyes was exactly any guy’s dream girl.
The rest of class blew by quickly. I was proud of myself: I had actually paid attention and taken some good, quality notes for once. As soon as the bell rang, I was out the door. I liked to be the first one out. It gave me some alone time in the halls while everyone else was still packing up or holding an interesting conversation. That was the reason I had no one to talk to. It wasn't to gain pity and I didn't think I had any weird quirks, I was just better off on my own. I hugged my books for my next class to my chest as I strolled down the empty hallway.
I paused before entering English. Did I really want to be the first in a classroom where the teacher hated me? Of course, I was stellar in English, but that didn't seem to faze Mr. Lane. Every teacher hated me. I could see why: I slept in almost every class. And even though doodling helped me pay attention, teachers didn't appreciate it very much. What was I to expect?
So, I waited until the room started to fill, and then cautiously slipped in, instantly spotting a seat in the back. I rushed to it before a jock, trying to sit near his girlfriend, could. The girl’s eyes shot daggers at me, and then she moved. That meant the seat next to me was open --- and Mitchell still wasn't in the room.
Finally! Someone to talk to! I hoped he hurried in soon before the seat was taken. Should I save it for him? But that would give the wrong idea, wouldn't it? I drummed my fingers on my desk, deep in thought. Class would start soon, and it was embarrassing to be late when Mr. Lane was the teacher. He would make you feel ostracized, like every eye was on you. When, in truth, every eye was. He just made it worse.
“C’mon!” I muttered to myself. Just as I was about to get up to check the hall, Mitchell strode through the door. His light green eyes scanned the room, and then targeted the desk next to me. His eyes didn't sparkle in recognition, though, when they glossed over me.
He waltzed over in his usual comic gait and I stifled a laugh. I guess it was possible for me to feel something for Mitchell. I mean he was the only one who even slightly paid attention to me, which I had no problem with....mostly.
He sat down and arranged his books on the desk. “Hi.” He uttered. And I realized it was only a casual greeting he would give anybody. He wasn't really talking to me, just managing to say ‘hello.’
I reluctantly managed to give a somewhat cheerful ‘Hi’ back. And then I pretended to be studying something. I hardly even knew which book I had.

This class flew by also. I broke a record by actually listening to Mr. Lane’s speech on adverbs. Even though I knew everything already I needed to know. Wow, I thought, two classes in a row. I raced out of this classroom too. I wanted to get to Chemistry early. There was a pop quiz coming, I just knew it. We hadn't had a regular quiz in quite a number of days.
I immediately rushed to another back desk and threw open my book. Mrs. Welling glared at me from behind the novel she was reading. I gazed at the book to decipher its title and finally discovered Where Two Seas Met in bold letters. So, she was reading another romance. I rolled my eyes and dove into the Chemistry book again. Okay, atoms, molecules, quarks, elements, compounds. I knew it all already. Sighing in relief, I closed the book calmly and rested my head on my desk as the students started filing in.
Apparently, a few others had the same suspicions and were stealthily scribbling answers on their hands, arms, and clothes or flipping frantically through the book. A girl that I knew by the name of Valerie came and sat down in the front, three seats ahead of me. I had never noticed her layered jet black hair that cascaded to her shoulders, or how pale her skin was.
Not pasty, almost like a marble pale.
My thoughts hit me like a splash of icy cold water --- and I began to panic. I had thought that before, and I knew exactly who about.
Him . . .
I sunk a bit in my seat. So this is who he was picking up. It must be his sister, or at least someone related to him. She had to be. No one else I knew had those distinct features, I was almost certain. I tried to focus on my book instead of thinking on that. But, somehow, my eyes were still drawn up to her, and then to the door. I don't know why my eyes kept traveling to the door, but I knew it wasn't good. It was a bad omen, but I pulled out a piece of paper to take my pop quiz and ignored my paranoia. I twittled my pen in my hands, still anxious and glancing at the door.
What was wrong with me? I raced through the quiz, knowing all the answers even before the teacher finished dictating them. I wondered why I was racing through the quiz, like there was something I had to run away from. It gave me the chills --- once again, a bad omen. I turned my quiz in to the teacher as she passed by, and then leaned my chin on my palm. Relax, my brain told my body. I achieved a peace, but it didn't last for long.

As the teacher rambled on, I kept my eyes on the door. What was so stinking special about that thing?! Just as I had won the battle and finally wrenched my eyes from the door to focus on the teacher, I heard a knock. I looked around; and it seemed no one else had.
I took one glance at the door and caught a glimpse of the person’s profile through the window. Where did I know that face . . . ? Then, I saw a flash of fiery orange.
“Shoot.” I breathed, in order to not say something less intelligible. Mrs. Welling strode slowly toward the door to open it, and I panicked. Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot! I cried in my head.
You wouldn't want to know what else I was saying up there.
There was only one escape. I dropped to all fours and crawled under my desk to hide behind the guy sitting in front of me. He was wearing all black and was burly. Only when he turned around to face me did I recognize why that was familiar.
“What is wrong with you?” uttered the same goth I had hidden behind before. His voice was monotone and slightly angry as he glared down at me.
“I'm . . . uh . . . hiding from someone?” I answered in a sheepish and questioning tone.
He scoffed and glanced at the angel that had just entered the room. “You have serious problems.” He turned back again to face the teacher and I grimaced. Wow, I was getting told I had problems by a goth.
Harsh.

My angel left soon enough with his sister and I clambered back into my chair, seemingly unnoticed by my teacher. I deeply exhaled in relief and Mrs. Welling turned to glare at me. ‘Sorry’ I mouthed, and sank into my seat a bit more.
The rest of school sped by. It was horrid. Same old, same old. So, as I walked home that day, I shuddered at the memory and tried to block it out with the new image of his face. Oh, if only I had a name to go with it!
I made myself some (slightly burned) macaroni almost as soon as I entered the door. I didn't bother with more cheese (I had never seemed to get along with Velveeta). Downing it in a few bites, --- I was starving --- I pulled out my books and set to work.
But then I noticed a note on the table. I slowly set down my cheese-encrusted (or I think it was cheese) spoon and stood up to snatch the note off the table.

Went to Bellevue to shop at 2:18 ….or something near that. Probably be back near 5:00. I have my cell, so call! And remember, have a good day!
Love ya!
Mom

I set down the note, laughing. If Mom went grocery shopping, she'd probably go on a shopping spree, too. Five o'clock? It would be near six, if that. I set it down and continued eating.
As soon as I was finished with “dinner” (or lack of), I raced up the stairs, balancing my books on the length of my arm, and flopped on the bed. After putting my favorite CD in the player, I bobbed my head to the music of Skye Sweetnam. My favorite was “Baby Doll Gone Wrong” and was only a few tracks away. As I waited for it to come on, I speedily finished my English, Biology and Algebra 2 homework. As, I was starting on World History, the introduction boomed on the stereo.
I sang along with the first verse and recognized the noise as a dying cat. Cringing, I settled for hopping off the bed and just dancing to the music instead of torturing others, even if there was no one in the room. Swaying from side to side spastically (I wasn't a very good dancer either), I waved my hands and shook my head rocker-style.
The music was so loud I scarcely heard my mom arrive at home in her noisy truck and slam the house door behind her as she came in. So, I had a heart attack and tripped when I glanced at the door and my Mom was standing there.
Smiling sheepishly up at her, I grasped blindly for the remote to turn the stereo off. Once I finally felt the remote in my hand, I sat up, eyes never leaving my mother, and frantically kept pressing buttons until I found the one that shut off the stereo.
“Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?” She crossed her arms and gazed at me skeptically. One hard glance from those fierce blue eyes and I turned stone cold. She tapped her foot in impatience and blew a strand of her maple hair out of her face.
“I got it done already.” Who cared about the five history questions I hadn't answered? I'd finish them later --- or at least try.
“And that bowl of . . . stuff on the counter?” She shifted her weight and glared at me again. Her icy gaze never faltered.
I straightened up a bit more and squirmed before I pondered how to explain. My eyes traveled around the room for the first time since she'd appeared as I pondered how to answer. She beat me before I could even open my mouth.
“You didn't try to cook again, did you?” Another sheepish grin. “Rosette!” she huffed, exasperated.
I looked down and then picked myself up off my hardwood floor. “I --- I was hungry, and --- and I thought I'd try my hand at it for once . . .”
Apparently my plea softened her gaze and she visibly slumped a bit. “I said I'd be back in two or three hours!” she fussed, exasperated again. There was just no escaping her irritated disappointment, was there?
“Hey, at least I tried for once.” I looked away, not able to stand her fluctuating gaze. I heard her take a step towards me. Uh-oh, here comes the neurotic emotions.
“That’s true.” She took my face in her hands. “Just don't do it again. You could have burnt the house down.”
“Thanks for the support, Mom.” I replied sarcastically, laughing. She hugged me and laughed.
“Oh, you know I support you. I just don't want to come home to ashes instead of a house.” She chuckled. I laughed along and hugged her firmly. I'm guessing she realized something and let me go. Her eyes were wide. “Never try barbecuing. Certainly not while you live with me.”
There were a few moments of silence before we both burst out into laughter. I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to cry; so, I wasn't surprised when I did. I knew the rest of today was going to be a very good day.

The gloominess of the next morning seemed to drown any happiness I had gained last night. Seattle was such a killjoy; or its weather at least. I groaned and rolled over in bed.
“Wake up.” I heard a sweet, velvety voice gently demand.
I bolted upright and something shot out of my window in a blur. In a state of frozen fear and shock, I numbly got up out of my bed and checked the window. It was closed and locked; I could see nothing unusual outside.
Shaking off my fear and pushing away any thought of such an absurd happening, I opened my closet to pick out clothes for today, sighing as my eyes glazed over my mundane wardrobe. I picked out a brown cardigan sweater and some slim black jeans. Both articles of clothing were nondescript apart from the fact of their being neutral colors.
I turned toward my bed to set the clothes down but then dropped everything I was carrying. There was a face in the window. My breath caught in my throat and time seemed to stop as I stared for what seemed like forever. But as soon as I had seen it, it was gone. I took a deep breath, stacked everything up in my arms again, and took an alternate route to the bed, never facing the window.
After dressing in them quickly then barely running my brush through my wavy mediocre locks, I raced down the steps (and away from that horrible nightmare called my window) where I knew at least one cereal box was waiting down in the kitchen for me. Mom was neurotic, as I'd said before, and always left me one simple thing on the table to eat for breakfast.
This morning it turned out to be Apple Jacks. Not my favorite, but it would do. I pulled out a spoon from the long drawer by the sink and then stretched to grab a bowl from the top cabinet. Sitting down at the table, I plopped down my bowl and messily poured the circles of sugar-ridden fun into it. I scooped into my hand the many that fell onto the table and dropped them into my waiting open mouth.
After a few minutes of hastily eating, I raced back up the stairs to brush my teeth and do the other usual things. Oh, the loveliness of human……ness? I sighed and threw on my jacket.
The jacket brought memories rushing upon me. I shook my head frantically to ward them off. A dream. Only a dream, Rosette. I wondered if I'd see him today. Doubtful, if I hid again . . . like I knew I would. Slinging my backpack on one of my shoulders, I set out for school, walking again, and plunged into the misty fog the weather had created.

As always, school sped by. Classes were in the most boring form possible today and I was elated that the time seemed to never slow down. It passed me by so quickly I thought the whole day would.
I was very, very wrong.
As time slowed down near the end of last period, I started to panic. Something was going to happen; I just knew it. I was good at deciphering these kinds of things.
Most of the time.
The bell rang and I stuffed my books into my bag. Valerie almost flew past me. I slung my bag onto my back, and then halted. Valerie. Now I knew why time had slowed down. Oh, shoot, he was here. No, Time, don't you stinking slow any longer! No! No! No! Speed. Up. Time!
I dodged through the rest of the crowd in an attempt to escape my fate. Finally emerging from the doorway, I took a deep breath and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Stay calm.
I spun on my heel and strode away, feeling confident for once in my life. Pride overflowed me: I had escaped. I don't know why I thought that feeling would last for long.
“Heeeeey! I know you! You're the girl from the traffic.” The voice seemed like it was right behind me. I froze. I had no idea what to do. None at all.
I turned slowly around only to gaze right into his flaming eyes, with no more flecks of black. I gasped and stumbled back at the proximity of my ordinary face from his gorgeous one. He chuckled and eagerly anticipated my answer.
Finally finding my voice, I nervously giggled. “Oh, yeah, that.” Why was I suddenly so out of breath? I could hardly speak with him around. Once again, I felt totally idiotic.
He laughed --- Oh! His laugh was wonderful! --- at my behavior towards him, but never backed up. I actually think he moved closer. “So, how have you been since then? School going okay? Everything ship-shape?”
I almost couldn't open my mouth after his sweet voice interrogated me. Get AHOLD of yourself, woman! I took another breath, and then started again at his proximity. Suddenly he was at my side and I felt my legs walking, keeping pace beside him, without my brain even commanding them to. I was hypnotized by him!
“Yeah! Everything’s going fine. I've been good. School’s . . . well, school is school. You? Do you even go to school?” I blurted all of this at once, so fast I could hardly even tell what I was saying.
“Good. I hoped so.” I beamed. He had hoped everything was going fine with me! “I don't go to school here. My sister does. I go to Valley Ridge.”
My face brightened in recognition. That was almost near my house! I about died of so much happiness. I abruptly burst out of my thoughts when I heard laughter. I whipped my head to the side only to realize it was him.
“Are you okay?” he sputtered between laughs. “You were just like ---“ He made an imitation of a zoned-out face and then burst into laughter once again.
Here came the nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I'm fine.” I turned to him again. “Will you quit laughing!” I playfully punched him and was surprised by the stone surface I made contact with.
He faked a hurt face and clutched at his arm muttering “Ow!’ rather fakely. Finally, we emerged into the parking lot and he stood by that beautiful black Corvette. “So, where’s your ride?” He leaned back against it, crossing his arms and resting one of his shoes on the side of the car.
“I --- I actually usually walk or take the bus.” I confessed, looking down and digging the toe of my sneaker into the asphalt.
He looked up and grinned. “Oh, that just won't do!” he teased, still grinning. “Would you like me to take you home, then?”
I literally almost choked.
Gazing up at him incredulously, my eyes were filled with the question “Are you kidding me?!” His eyes answered back “No way!” as if he'd actually said it. His smile widened. “I mean, we just met and all....and... Sure, sure.” I sputtered out and laughed. “Are you sure, though? Am I going to be a burden?”
At that moment, Valerie joined us, books in hand. Her head whipped toward me, making her cascading black hair bounce back and forth like one of those shampoo commercials. Those models had nothing on her. He and Valerie had a quick exchange of glares and looks, and I swore I could see their lips moving, but too fast for me to read.
“Oh!” he blurted, realizing something. “I've been rude. I never introduced myself. You already know Valerie, I'm sure.” We nodded in acknowledgement at each other, and then both looked at him again. “I'm Everett Caine.”
Everett Caine. A unique and beautiful name to go with the unique and beautiful face. Oh, even those adjectives were an understatement! I wouldn't be haunted anymore by the nameless figure that was my angel. Now, I would be haunted by Everett, my angel.OH MY GOSH! Do you even hear yourself?!
"Shall we go then?” He ushered his sister into the back of the shiny, somewhat new-looking, car and then opened the passenger door for me, guiding me in chivalrously with his hand on the small of my back. I almost fainted right there and then.
This was going to be a very good day.

Valerie glared at me from the back of the car. I could feel her eyes on me --- and that made me uncomfortable. It was the only thing that took away from this glorious moment.
Everett taking me home is his beautiful, sleek black Corvette. It was like something from a dream, and I tried to tell myself that was only because of the Corvette. Did I not wake up this morning? I pinched my hand.
It hurt.
Yes! I almost screamed in my head. It was real! This was actually happening! I kept beaming and couldn't keep the grin from my face. You are such a weirdo... Everett looked over as he made the first turn and his grin grew wider.
“Enjoying yourself, Madame?” he addressed me, faking a French accent. I don't think I would be able to get over his kind nature and teasing personality.
But just then, his face contorted in either pain or anger (I couldn't tell which) and I swear I saw the fringe of black return faintly. He looked over at me, slowing the car a little, and his eyes brightened. I inched closer to the window in apprehension.
“Are you --- “ I began to ask, but Valerie cut me off.
“I knew you shouldn't have done this.” She accused fiercely, glaring her hardest at Everett, and then glancing toward me. Their eyes met, hers ablaze with fury, and the car began to stop. He pulled the car over, his eyes never leaving Valerie, amazingly.
They stared at one another for what seemed like forever and, once again, I swore their lips moved. After a few minutes, the fight seemed to dissipate and Everett's eyes turned back to normal. “I've decided to take Valerie home first, since our house is closer.” Another glare from his sister gave me the chills; but then I realized what he had said.
I would be alone in the car with him. I almost died of joy. This was definitely my day. . .

After a tense ride to their house, we said our friendly goodbyes to Valerie. And before pulling back out of their driveway, Everett turned to face me. “So, you never introduced yourself to me. I had the propriety to do so, but apparently you didn't.” he huffed comically.
“Oh,” I chuckled. “I'm, uh, Rosette.”
His face brightened. “Wow. Rosette. That’s a beautiful name . . . Now, for a nickname.” I blushed while he pondered over it. “I'm guessing Rose is out of the question?” It was more like a statement than a question. I threw him a puzzled glance and he smiled. “Rose is too common and ordinary a name for someone like you!”
I immediately took his statement for the worse. “Are you saying I'm weird?” I inquired incredulously, staring at him somewhat angrily.
“Not weird.” He replied calmly. “Unique. You're so unique.” His voice caressed me gently. “In a good way, of course.” He was so close I almost stopped breathing. Here we go again with the suffocation. What is so stinking suffocating about his presence?
“Oh.” I finally answered, pulling away, but never wrenching my eyes from his gaze. A strand of hair fell in front of my face. Before I could even react, he reached over and slowly, gently, tucked it behind my ear.
I visibly reddened all over my face, and then looked out the window to hide it. “Here we go.” He put his arm on the back of my seat to be able to turn to look behind him and I held my breath nervously. His arm was just a centimeter, maybe millimeters behind me. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't a good kind of nervous. It was nervous in the way that if that arm moved someone was going to be missing teeth. I have a bubble: I'm not used to getting it invaded.
The "trauma" ended soon enough. He removed his arm, being careful not to brush against me, and put the car in drive. I finally exhaled and saw him grin out of the corner of my eye. “So, you live down Crossbridge right?” he inquired.
I didn't even want to know how he knew. “How ---?” I started anyway.
He seemed to freeze, like he'd said something he shouldn't have. He was stunned for a moment as he seemed to be searching for an answer. “I had a quick glance at the computer when I came to pick up Valerie early. I remember ‘Crossbridge’ under ‘Rosette Willows.’ Such a pretty last name to match the first one.” He seemed to be muttering to himself near the end of his speech.
This was awkward. Half of me was flattered at his end comment and the fact that he'd remembered my name on the computer so vividly, but the other half was feeling like this whole situation was pretty . . . stalker-ish. I stopped a chill that ran down my spine, but my tremble didn't escape his notice.
“Are you cold?” He immediately turned on the heater in the car and looked at me concerned. “Better?” The way he fussed over me warmed me in and of itself. His ocher eyes searched my face as I nodded and he seemed to soften up a bit.
The rest of the trip was only glances and smiles, and the occasional grin; we were home before I knew it. He was out of the car in a flash and by my door. I had never seen anyone move so fast in my life. Yet, he was still moving at normal speed. I pondered over this as he opened my door.
“So polite!” As he helped me out of the car, I giggled. He only grinned wider and waltzed over to the trunk to get my backpack. “I'm fully capable of picking up my own backpack,” I huffed mockingly. “But thank you for the thought,” I added, thinking maybe I had hurt his feelings. I mean, he was just trying to be a gentleman.
“You're very welcome.” He twirled his hand in an articulate bow and spun on his heel to walk to my door. “I'm guessing you have a key.” He called back.
“Yeah.” I answered, slinging my bag onto my shoulder and heading towards the house.
“Then I am of no further use.” He declared dramatically once I showed up. I laughed and turned the key in the lock. He took off to his car as the tiniest raindrops began to splash onto the patio. I stared at the car until it started, and then waved happily at him. I could barely see through the windshield, but I swore there was a grin. He stuck his hand out of the window to wave back and called out, “See you tomorrow!” as his car took off.
I stood in the doorway for the longest time, gazing at the spot where I had last seen that sleek black Corvette. When I was just about to open the door, something shot past me. In a stunned state, I spun around slowly . . . and saw nothing.
Again?! I chided myself. I set down my backpack and took a step forward to see what had blown past me. Probably a deer or something. I convinced myself. But if it was a deer, going at that speed it had to be running from something. Once again, I panicked.
When was I ever going to learn that caused me more trouble?
Well, from where I was standing --- I assumed my previous position --- it had been coming from my right going toward my left. That was coming out of the forest. Just where any animal would be coming out of, right? But then I froze. More dangerous things could lurk in the forest than deer. I knew that already. And whatever blew past me, or was chasing what blew past me, was not friendly.
I stealthily made my way over to the bushes it had run into on the left side of my yard. Calming my breathing, I stifled the urge to hyperventilate and walked more quickly toward my destination. I was almost there when I heard something I was not expecting.
A long low growl.
I took one step back, and whatever it was rose out of the bushes and the shadows. The silhouette was mostly human from what I could see, but the way it growled and slowly made its way toward me was definitely not human. My view was so blurred by the rain that I couldn't make out what it was, and I immediately began to panic. I backed away with a bit more purpose, but I didn't dare look behind me to gauge how far I was from the door.
Even if I made a quick run for it, I was doomed.
I would have cried was I not so frozen with fear. Suddenly I couldn't think. I was going into a state of shock, and I couldn't right now. If I went into shock, I would most likely faint, and then I would be a sitting duck for the predator to pounce upon. The cold rain pouring down woke me up from this state and helped me not to keel over.
What to do? I repeated this in my head, mulling over the phrase, hoping it would give me some kind of inspiration. It didn't. Shoot. I took my last option into play.
I started crying.
The creature seemed interested in what I was doing as tears streamed down my face, merging with the cool drops of rain that were now pelting me, and I sobbed for all it was worth. Through my blurred vision I saw it cock its head --- so human-like --- and stared at me as I continued to back away. Then, I heard the crunch of gravel I knew lead to the patio. I had one chance.
I took off at full speed toward the door and hit the patio with force. My frenzied run had apparently caught the creature off guard and it stood there stunned as I glanced back to check. I threw the door open, almost tumbling over my backpack, then slammed it behind me in the pure adrenaline of fear. I was a miracle I had escaped it, and I still wondered if I was just dreaming. I laid against the door and closed my eyes, letting the tears fall and sinking down into a squatting position.
I wasn't sure if that thing was all animal. I wasn't sure if it was all human. But I did know it was at least partially human. There was another thing I was one hundred percent sure of.
I was being stalked.

Description
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Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I have no problems with goths and I'm not this whiny or reclusive myself, but I did tend to be when I was Rosette's age. Remember, she is a typical teenager and thinks like one. The writing does not reflect my own feelings.
That is all.

The next morning when I woke up, my neck was stiff and aching. Upon opening my eyes, I finally realized why. I was lying on the couch, remote buried beneath me, with at least the whole top half of me falling off. I immediately straightened up and swiped off the drool that had been forming at the corners of my mouth. Bolting upwards so suddenly had caused me to become dizzy, so I sat still, surveying my surroundings, until it calmed a bit.
It seemed as if last night was only a dream --- more like a nightmare, actually --- I glanced at the tall old-fashioned rack we hung our coats on. Only two hooks were used: my mom’s old windbreaker slung hastily over it, and my neatly hung hoodie. The only thing different from before I went outside --- that is, if I really did --- was a blanket, ruffled from sleep, but still securely tucked around me. I must have grabbed it while I was still in that pre-sleep daze.
So, my going outside really was a dream; more like a nightmare, actually. I slowly slipped my feet off the sofa, dropping the blanket. Everything was hazy in my dream, I recalled as I sluggishly headed for the bathroom. All of it was, except for those molten eyes . . .
I halted
Molten eyes. The molten eyes. I remembered them so clearly, yet everything else was a blur. I could even see the details. What an absurd dream . . .
I began walking again, this time a bit more awake. I practically raced to the mirror to check my reflection. I sighed in relief when I finally gazed at it. There was absolutely nothing to betray my even nearing the outside. No smudges of dirt, no leaves in my hair; nothing.
Weird.
And yet I'd felt so much like I had gone outside. “Well,” I explained to myself, “dreams are just like that sometimes. They're so life-like you swear that it actually happened. And sometimes, you even think of them as memories and not dreams.” I rambled on, still checking myself in the mirror, as I convinced myself more and more that it was nothing else until I had but one doubt in my mind.
I shoved it away and anxiously waltzed down the hall to check the clock. “Aw, dangit!” followed by some…unintelligible things was my response. I clambered up the stairs to my room, feeling the pressure of my late schedule as I threw clothes together then rushed through the usual. Brushingthe mess that was my mane, scrubbing my teeth ---so hurried that I even think I made them bleed ---, and washing my face rigorously. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and stumbled out of the house, fumbling with the keys in my already-freezing numb hand before I locked the door. I sprinted to the bus stop that was somewhat near our road and was out of breath before I reached it.
I really wished someone would be glad enough to take me to school at this moment. But, of course, that wasn't probable. I was hated; I had to admit it sooner or later. And the car I had driven before was my mom’s. She had let me borrow it for a while as she took the long-needed week off. But, now, she had it back. I checked the store across the street’s electronic billboard to find the time. Eight o'clock. I plunged into a string of incoherent murmurings as I glared at the clock. I only had thirty minutes before class started, and, now, it looked like I was going to have to walk.
Life was just great, wasn't it?

I slid into the classroom just as the bell rang. Sighing in relief, I took my seat next to the empty desk in the back. I liked my privacy. Enough said. No heads turned to even glance at me. Nothing changed with Mitchell, I could see: I didn't exist again.
I noticed one of the girls near me got a new haircut. You examine people like that when you've got no one to talk to; it’s the only way to find out the most important things. Her hair had been a long flowing curtain of reddish hair, but now it hung just below her chin, framing her face.
Why did people do that? They were gifted with beauty to just throw away. I wished she would have given me some of the hair that she had probably donated. I'd give anything to have that kind of satiny hair instead of mine. I didn't think auburn hair and gray eyes was exactly any guy’s dream girl.
The rest of class blew by quickly. I was proud of myself: I had actually paid attention and taken some good, quality notes for once. As soon as the bell rang, I was out the door. I liked to be the first one out. It gave me some alone time in the halls while everyone else was still packing up or holding an interesting conversation. That was the reason I had no one to talk to. It wasn't to gain pity and I didn't think I had any weird quirks, I was just better off on my own. I hugged my books for my next class to my chest as I strolled down the empty hallway.
I paused before entering English. Did I really want to be the first in a classroom where the teacher hated me? Of course, I was stellar in English, but that didn't seem to faze Mr. Lane. Every teacher hated me. I could see why: I slept in almost every class. And even though doodling helped me pay attention, teachers didn't appreciate it very much. What was I to expect?
So, I waited until the room started to fill, and then cautiously slipped in, instantly spotting a seat in the back. I rushed to it before a jock, trying to sit near his girlfriend, could. The girl’s eyes shot daggers at me, and then she moved. That meant the seat next to me was open --- and Mitchell still wasn't in the room.
Finally! Someone to talk to! I hoped he hurried in soon before the seat was taken. Should I save it for him? But that would give the wrong idea, wouldn't it? I drummed my fingers on my desk, deep in thought. Class would start soon, and it was embarrassing to be late when Mr. Lane was the teacher. He would make you feel ostracized, like every eye was on you. When, in truth, every eye was. He just made it worse.
“C’mon!” I muttered to myself. Just as I was about to get up to check the hall, Mitchell strode through the door. His light green eyes scanned the room, and then targeted the desk next to me. His eyes didn't sparkle in recognition, though, when they glossed over me.
He waltzed over in his usual comic gait and I stifled a laugh. I guess it was possible for me to feel something for Mitchell. I mean he was the only one who even slightly paid attention to me, which I had no problem with....mostly.
He sat down and arranged his books on the desk. “Hi.” He uttered. And I realized it was only a casual greeting he would give anybody. He wasn't really talking to me, just managing to say ‘hello.’
I reluctantly managed to give a somewhat cheerful ‘Hi’ back. And then I pretended to be studying something. I hardly even knew which book I had.

This class flew by also. I broke a record by actually listening to Mr. Lane’s speech on adverbs. Even though I knew everything already I needed to know. Wow, I thought, two classes in a row. I raced out of this classroom too. I wanted to get to Chemistry early. There was a pop quiz coming, I just knew it. We hadn't had a regular quiz in quite a number of days.
I immediately rushed to another back desk and threw open my book. Mrs. Welling glared at me from behind the novel she was reading. I gazed at the book to decipher its title and finally discovered Where Two Seas Met in bold letters. So, she was reading another romance. I rolled my eyes and dove into the Chemistry book again. Okay, atoms, molecules, quarks, elements, compounds. I knew it all already. Sighing in relief, I closed the book calmly and rested my head on my desk as the students started filing in.
Apparently, a few others had the same suspicions and were stealthily scribbling answers on their hands, arms, and clothes or flipping frantically through the book. A girl that I knew by the name of Valerie came and sat down in the front, three seats ahead of me. I had never noticed her layered jet black hair that cascaded to her shoulders, or how pale her skin was.
Not pasty, almost like a marble pale.
My thoughts hit me like a splash of icy cold water --- and I began to panic. I had thought that before, and I knew exactly who about.
Him . . .
I sunk a bit in my seat. So this is who he was picking up. It must be his sister, or at least someone related to him. She had to be. No one else I knew had those distinct features, I was almost certain. I tried to focus on my book instead of thinking on that. But, somehow, my eyes were still drawn up to her, and then to the door. I don't know why my eyes kept traveling to the door, but I knew it wasn't good. It was a bad omen, but I pulled out a piece of paper to take my pop quiz and ignored my paranoia. I twittled my pen in my hands, still anxious and glancing at the door.
What was wrong with me? I raced through the quiz, knowing all the answers even before the teacher finished dictating them. I wondered why I was racing through the quiz, like there was something I had to run away from. It gave me the chills --- once again, a bad omen. I turned my quiz in to the teacher as she passed by, and then leaned my chin on my palm. Relax, my brain told my body. I achieved a peace, but it didn't last for long.

As the teacher rambled on, I kept my eyes on the door. What was so stinking special about that thing?! Just as I had won the battle and finally wrenched my eyes from the door to focus on the teacher, I heard a knock. I looked around; and it seemed no one else had.
I took one glance at the door and caught a glimpse of the person’s profile through the window. Where did I know that face . . . ? Then, I saw a flash of fiery orange.
“Shoot.” I breathed, in order to not say something less intelligible. Mrs. Welling strode slowly toward the door to open it, and I panicked. Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot! I cried in my head.
You wouldn't want to know what else I was saying up there.
There was only one escape. I dropped to all fours and crawled under my desk to hide behind the guy sitting in front of me. He was wearing all black and was burly. Only when he turned around to face me did I recognize why that was familiar.
“What is wrong with you?” uttered the same goth I had hidden behind before. His voice was monotone and slightly angry as he glared down at me.
“I'm . . . uh . . . hiding from someone?” I answered in a sheepish and questioning tone.
He scoffed and glanced at the angel that had just entered the room. “You have serious problems.” He turned back again to face the teacher and I grimaced. Wow, I was getting told I had problems by a goth.
Harsh.

My angel left soon enough with his sister and I clambered back into my chair, seemingly unnoticed by my teacher. I deeply exhaled in relief and Mrs. Welling turned to glare at me. ‘Sorry’ I mouthed, and sank into my seat a bit more.
The rest of school sped by. It was horrid. Same old, same old. So, as I walked home that day, I shuddered at the memory and tried to block it out with the new image of his face. Oh, if only I had a name to go with it!
I made myself some (slightly burned) macaroni almost as soon as I entered the door. I didn't bother with more cheese (I had never seemed to get along with Velveeta). Downing it in a few bites, --- I was starving --- I pulled out my books and set to work.
But then I noticed a note on the table. I slowly set down my cheese-encrusted (or I think it was cheese) spoon and stood up to snatch the note off the table.

Went to Bellevue to shop at 2:18 ….or something near that. Probably be back near 5:00. I have my cell, so call! And remember, have a good day!
Love ya!
Mom

I set down the note, laughing. If Mom went grocery shopping, she'd probably go on a shopping spree, too. Five o'clock? It would be near six, if that. I set it down and continued eating.
As soon as I was finished with “dinner” (or lack of), I raced up the stairs, balancing my books on the length of my arm, and flopped on the bed. After putting my favorite CD in the player, I bobbed my head to the music of Skye Sweetnam. My favorite was “Baby Doll Gone Wrong” and was only a few tracks away. As I waited for it to come on, I speedily finished my English, Biology and Algebra 2 homework. As, I was starting on World History, the introduction boomed on the stereo.
I sang along with the first verse and recognized the noise as a dying cat. Cringing, I settled for hopping off the bed and just dancing to the music instead of torturing others, even if there was no one in the room. Swaying from side to side spastically (I wasn't a very good dancer either), I waved my hands and shook my head rocker-style.
The music was so loud I scarcely heard my mom arrive at home in her noisy truck and slam the house door behind her as she came in. So, I had a heart attack and tripped when I glanced at the door and my Mom was standing there.
Smiling sheepishly up at her, I grasped blindly for the remote to turn the stereo off. Once I finally felt the remote in my hand, I sat up, eyes never leaving my mother, and frantically kept pressing buttons until I found the one that shut off the stereo.
“Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?” She crossed her arms and gazed at me skeptically. One hard glance from those fierce blue eyes and I turned stone cold. She tapped her foot in impatience and blew a strand of her maple hair out of her face.
“I got it done already.” Who cared about the five history questions I hadn't answered? I'd finish them later --- or at least try.
“And that bowl of . . . stuff on the counter?” She shifted her weight and glared at me again. Her icy gaze never faltered.
I straightened up a bit more and squirmed before I pondered how to explain. My eyes traveled around the room for the first time since she'd appeared as I pondered how to answer. She beat me before I could even open my mouth.
“You didn't try to cook again, did you?” Another sheepish grin. “Rosette!” she huffed, exasperated.
I looked down and then picked myself up off my hardwood floor. “I --- I was hungry, and --- and I thought I'd try my hand at it for once . . .”
Apparently my plea softened her gaze and she visibly slumped a bit. “I said I'd be back in two or three hours!” she fussed, exasperated again. There was just no escaping her irritated disappointment, was there?
“Hey, at least I tried for once.” I looked away, not able to stand her fluctuating gaze. I heard her take a step towards me. Uh-oh, here comes the neurotic emotions.
“That’s true.” She took my face in her hands. “Just don't do it again. You could have burnt the house down.”
“Thanks for the support, Mom.” I replied sarcastically, laughing. She hugged me and laughed.
“Oh, you know I support you. I just don't want to come home to ashes instead of a house.” She chuckled. I laughed along and hugged her firmly. I'm guessing she realized something and let me go. Her eyes were wide. “Never try barbecuing. Certainly not while you live with me.”
There were a few moments of silence before we both burst out into laughter. I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to cry; so, I wasn't surprised when I did. I knew the rest of today was going to be a very good day.

The gloominess of the next morning seemed to drown any happiness I had gained last night. Seattle was such a killjoy; or its weather at least. I groaned and rolled over in bed.
“Wake up.” I heard a sweet, velvety voice gently demand.
I bolted upright and something shot out of my window in a blur. In a state of frozen fear and shock, I numbly got up out of my bed and checked the window. It was closed and locked; I could see nothing unusual outside.
Shaking off my fear and pushing away any thought of such an absurd happening, I opened my closet to pick out clothes for today, sighing as my eyes glazed over my mundane wardrobe. I picked out a brown cardigan sweater and some slim black jeans. Both articles of clothing were nondescript apart from the fact of their being neutral colors.
I turned toward my bed to set the clothes down but then dropped everything I was carrying. There was a face in the window. My breath caught in my throat and time seemed to stop as I stared for what seemed like forever. But as soon as I had seen it, it was gone. I took a deep breath, stacked everything up in my arms again, and took an alternate route to the bed, never facing the window.
After dressing in them quickly then barely running my brush through my wavy mediocre locks, I raced down the steps (and away from that horrible nightmare called my window) where I knew at least one cereal box was waiting down in the kitchen for me. Mom was neurotic, as I'd said before, and always left me one simple thing on the table to eat for breakfast.
This morning it turned out to be Apple Jacks. Not my favorite, but it would do. I pulled out a spoon from the long drawer by the sink and then stretched to grab a bowl from the top cabinet. Sitting down at the table, I plopped down my bowl and messily poured the circles of sugar-ridden fun into it. I scooped into my hand the many that fell onto the table and dropped them into my waiting open mouth.
After a few minutes of hastily eating, I raced back up the stairs to brush my teeth and do the other usual things. Oh, the loveliness of human……ness? I sighed and threw on my jacket.
The jacket brought memories rushing upon me. I shook my head frantically to ward them off. A dream. Only a dream, Rosette. I wondered if I'd see him today. Doubtful, if I hid again . . . like I knew I would. Slinging my backpack on one of my shoulders, I set out for school, walking again, and plunged into the misty fog the weather had created.

As always, school sped by. Classes were in the most boring form possible today and I was elated that the time seemed to never slow down. It passed me by so quickly I thought the whole day would.
I was very, very wrong.
As time slowed down near the end of last period, I started to panic. Something was going to happen; I just knew it. I was good at deciphering these kinds of things.
Most of the time.
The bell rang and I stuffed my books into my bag. Valerie almost flew past me. I slung my bag onto my back, and then halted. Valerie. Now I knew why time had slowed down. Oh, shoot, he was here. No, Time, don't you stinking slow any longer! No! No! No! Speed. Up. Time!
I dodged through the rest of the crowd in an attempt to escape my fate. Finally emerging from the doorway, I took a deep breath and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Stay calm.
I spun on my heel and strode away, feeling confident for once in my life. Pride overflowed me: I had escaped. I don't know why I thought that feeling would last for long.
“Heeeeey! I know you! You're the girl from the traffic.” The voice seemed like it was right behind me. I froze. I had no idea what to do. None at all.
I turned slowly around only to gaze right into his flaming eyes, with no more flecks of black. I gasped and stumbled back at the proximity of my ordinary face from his gorgeous one. He chuckled and eagerly anticipated my answer.
Finally finding my voice, I nervously giggled. “Oh, yeah, that.” Why was I suddenly so out of breath? I could hardly speak with him around. Once again, I felt totally idiotic.
He laughed --- Oh! His laugh was wonderful! --- at my behavior towards him, but never backed up. I actually think he moved closer. “So, how have you been since then? School going okay? Everything ship-shape?”
I almost couldn't open my mouth after his sweet voice interrogated me. Get AHOLD of yourself, woman! I took another breath, and then started again at his proximity. Suddenly he was at my side and I felt my legs walking, keeping pace beside him, without my brain even commanding them to. I was hypnotized by him!
“Yeah! Everything’s going fine. I've been good. School’s . . . well, school is school. You? Do you even go to school?” I blurted all of this at once, so fast I could hardly even tell what I was saying.
“Good. I hoped so.” I beamed. He had hoped everything was going fine with me! “I don't go to school here. My sister does. I go to Valley Ridge.”
My face brightened in recognition. That was almost near my house! I about died of so much happiness. I abruptly burst out of my thoughts when I heard laughter. I whipped my head to the side only to realize it was him.
“Are you okay?” he sputtered between laughs. “You were just like ---“ He made an imitation of a zoned-out face and then burst into laughter once again.
Here came the nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I'm fine.” I turned to him again. “Will you quit laughing!” I playfully punched him and was surprised by the stone surface I made contact with.
He faked a hurt face and clutched at his arm muttering “Ow!’ rather fakely. Finally, we emerged into the parking lot and he stood by that beautiful black Corvette. “So, where’s your ride?” He leaned back against it, crossing his arms and resting one of his shoes on the side of the car.
“I --- I actually usually walk or take the bus.” I confessed, looking down and digging the toe of my sneaker into the asphalt.
He looked up and grinned. “Oh, that just won't do!” he teased, still grinning. “Would you like me to take you home, then?”
I literally almost choked.
Gazing up at him incredulously, my eyes were filled with the question “Are you kidding me?!” His eyes answered back “No way!” as if he'd actually said it. His smile widened. “I mean, we just met and all....and... Sure, sure.” I sputtered out and laughed. “Are you sure, though? Am I going to be a burden?”
At that moment, Valerie joined us, books in hand. Her head whipped toward me, making her cascading black hair bounce back and forth like one of those shampoo commercials. Those models had nothing on her. He and Valerie had a quick exchange of glares and looks, and I swore I could see their lips moving, but too fast for me to read.
“Oh!” he blurted, realizing something. “I've been rude. I never introduced myself. You already know Valerie, I'm sure.” We nodded in acknowledgement at each other, and then both looked at him again. “I'm Everett Caine.”
Everett Caine. A unique and beautiful name to go with the unique and beautiful face. Oh, even those adjectives were an understatement! I wouldn't be haunted anymore by the nameless figure that was my angel. Now, I would be haunted by Everett, my angel.OH MY GOSH! Do you even hear yourself?!
"Shall we go then?” He ushered his sister into the back of the shiny, somewhat new-looking, car and then opened the passenger door for me, guiding me in chivalrously with his hand on the small of my back. I almost fainted right there and then.
This was going to be a very good day.

Valerie glared at me from the back of the car. I could feel her eyes on me --- and that made me uncomfortable. It was the only thing that took away from this glorious moment.
Everett taking me home is his beautiful, sleek black Corvette. It was like something from a dream, and I tried to tell myself that was only because of the Corvette. Did I not wake up this morning? I pinched my hand.
It hurt.
Yes! I almost screamed in my head. It was real! This was actually happening! I kept beaming and couldn't keep the grin from my face. You are such a weirdo... Everett looked over as he made the first turn and his grin grew wider.
“Enjoying yourself, Madame?” he addressed me, faking a French accent. I don't think I would be able to get over his kind nature and teasing personality.
But just then, his face contorted in either pain or anger (I couldn't tell which) and I swear I saw the fringe of black return faintly. He looked over at me, slowing the car a little, and his eyes brightened. I inched closer to the window in apprehension.
“Are you --- “ I began to ask, but Valerie cut me off.
“I knew you shouldn't have done this.” She accused fiercely, glaring her hardest at Everett, and then glancing toward me. Their eyes met, hers ablaze with fury, and the car began to stop. He pulled the car over, his eyes never leaving Valerie, amazingly.
They stared at one another for what seemed like forever and, once again, I swore their lips moved. After a few minutes, the fight seemed to dissipate and Everett's eyes turned back to normal. “I've decided to take Valerie home first, since our house is closer.” Another glare from his sister gave me the chills; but then I realized what he had said.
I would be alone in the car with him. I almost died of joy. This was definitely my day. . .

After a tense ride to their house, we said our friendly goodbyes to Valerie. And before pulling back out of their driveway, Everett turned to face me. “So, you never introduced yourself to me. I had the propriety to do so, but apparently you didn't.” he huffed comically.
“Oh,” I chuckled. “I'm, uh, Rosette.”
His face brightened. “Wow. Rosette. That’s a beautiful name . . . Now, for a nickname.” I blushed while he pondered over it. “I'm guessing Rose is out of the question?” It was more like a statement than a question. I threw him a puzzled glance and he smiled. “Rose is too common and ordinary a name for someone like you!”
I immediately took his statement for the worse. “Are you saying I'm weird?” I inquired incredulously, staring at him somewhat angrily.
“Not weird.” He replied calmly. “Unique. You're so unique.” His voice caressed me gently. “In a good way, of course.” He was so close I almost stopped breathing. Here we go again with the suffocation. What is so stinking suffocating about his presence?
“Oh.” I finally answered, pulling away, but never wrenching my eyes from his gaze. A strand of hair fell in front of my face. Before I could even react, he reached over and slowly, gently, tucked it behind my ear.
I visibly reddened all over my face, and then looked out the window to hide it. “Here we go.” He put his arm on the back of my seat to be able to turn to look behind him and I held my breath nervously. His arm was just a centimeter, maybe millimeters behind me. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't a good kind of nervous. It was nervous in the way that if that arm moved someone was going to be missing teeth. I have a bubble: I'm not used to getting it invaded.
The "trauma" ended soon enough. He removed his arm, being careful not to brush against me, and put the car in drive. I finally exhaled and saw him grin out of the corner of my eye. “So, you live down Crossbridge right?” he inquired.
I didn't even want to know how he knew. “How ---?” I started anyway.
He seemed to freeze, like he'd said something he shouldn't have. He was stunned for a moment as he seemed to be searching for an answer. “I had a quick glance at the computer when I came to pick up Valerie early. I remember ‘Crossbridge’ under ‘Rosette Willows.’ Such a pretty last name to match the first one.” He seemed to be muttering to himself near the end of his speech.
This was awkward. Half of me was flattered at his end comment and the fact that he'd remembered my name on the computer so vividly, but the other half was feeling like this whole situation was pretty . . . stalker-ish. I stopped a chill that ran down my spine, but my tremble didn't escape his notice.
“Are you cold?” He immediately turned on the heater in the car and looked at me concerned. “Better?” The way he fussed over me warmed me in and of itself. His ocher eyes searched my face as I nodded and he seemed to soften up a bit.
The rest of the trip was only glances and smiles, and the occasional grin; we were home before I knew it. He was out of the car in a flash and by my door. I had never seen anyone move so fast in my life. Yet, he was still moving at normal speed. I pondered over this as he opened my door.
“So polite!” As he helped me out of the car, I giggled. He only grinned wider and waltzed over to the trunk to get my backpack. “I'm fully capable of picking up my own backpack,” I huffed mockingly. “But thank you for the thought,” I added, thinking maybe I had hurt his feelings. I mean, he was just trying to be a gentleman.
“You're very welcome.” He twirled his hand in an articulate bow and spun on his heel to walk to my door. “I'm guessing you have a key.” He called back.
“Yeah.” I answered, slinging my bag onto my shoulder and heading towards the house.
“Then I am of no further use.” He declared dramatically once I showed up. I laughed and turned the key in the lock. He took off to his car as the tiniest raindrops began to splash onto the patio. I stared at the car until it started, and then waved happily at him. I could barely see through the windshield, but I swore there was a grin. He stuck his hand out of the window to wave back and called out, “See you tomorrow!” as his car took off.
I stood in the doorway for the longest time, gazing at the spot where I had last seen that sleek black Corvette. When I was just about to open the door, something shot past me. In a stunned state, I spun around slowly . . . and saw nothing.
Again?! I chided myself. I set down my backpack and took a step forward to see what had blown past me. Probably a deer or something. I convinced myself. But if it was a deer, going at that speed it had to be running from something. Once again, I panicked.
When was I ever going to learn that caused me more trouble?
Well, from where I was standing --- I assumed my previous position --- it had been coming from my right going toward my left. That was coming out of the forest. Just where any animal would be coming out of, right? But then I froze. More dangerous things could lurk in the forest than deer. I knew that already. And whatever blew past me, or was chasing what blew past me, was not friendly.
I stealthily made my way over to the bushes it had run into on the left side of my yard. Calming my breathing, I stifled the urge to hyperventilate and walked more quickly toward my destination. I was almost there when I heard something I was not expecting.
A long low growl.
I took one step back, and whatever it was rose out of the bushes and the shadows. The silhouette was mostly human from what I could see, but the way it growled and slowly made its way toward me was definitely not human. My view was so blurred by the rain that I couldn't make out what it was, and I immediately began to panic. I backed away with a bit more purpose, but I didn't dare look behind me to gauge how far I was from the door.
Even if I made a quick run for it, I was doomed.
I would have cried was I not so frozen with fear. Suddenly I couldn't think. I was going into a state of shock, and I couldn't right now. If I went into shock, I would most likely faint, and then I would be a sitting duck for the predator to pounce upon. The cold rain pouring down woke me up from this state and helped me not to keel over.
What to do? I repeated this in my head, mulling over the phrase, hoping it would give me some kind of inspiration. It didn't. Shoot. I took my last option into play.
I started crying.
The creature seemed interested in what I was doing as tears streamed down my face, merging with the cool drops of rain that were now pelting me, and I sobbed for all it was worth. Through my blurred vision I saw it cock its head --- so human-like --- and stared at me as I continued to back away. Then, I heard the crunch of gravel I knew lead to the patio. I had one chance.
I took off at full speed toward the door and hit the patio with force. My frenzied run had apparently caught the creature off guard and it stood there stunned as I glanced back to check. I threw the door open, almost tumbling over my backpack, then slammed it behind me in the pure adrenaline of fear. I was a miracle I had escaped it, and I still wondered if I was just dreaming. I laid against the door and closed my eyes, letting the tears fall and sinking down into a squatting position.
I wasn't sure if that thing was all animal. I wasn't sure if it was all human. But I did know it was at least partially human. There was another thing I was one hundred percent sure of.
I was being stalked.