He's Watching Me

Frightful Tales #2 He's Watching Me.

© 2015 Wesley Thomas

This manuscript has been proofed/edited using British grammar and punctuation.

Copyright

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the Author, addressed below.

Email:
[email protected]

Cover design by Sajjad, Courtesy of Fiverr.com/covermaestro
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Digital Edition

Proofread/Edited by Paula Limbaugh.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Although genuine factual historical events and locations are mentioned, everything else is fictitious. Including, but not limited to, characters, storyline/s, situations, occurrences. Any semblance to anyone of the living or dead is purely coincidental.

Frightful Tales #2

He's Watching Me

Prologue

The walls were closing in. She felt like a shark trapped in a cage, thrashing against the metal bars in an attempt to break free. Only she wasn't a ferocious animal, Laura was more comparable to the helpless swimmers a shark would attack; or the helpless seals being consumed by the water demon. The black pit that held the two of them was lacking oxygen, proving to be a claustrophobic nightmare. Silence was everywhere. The only sound being the gentle sobs of her younger companion ringing loudly in the abundance of quiet. In reality this would not disturb a library, but in their current horrifying predicament, these subtle noises could bring the walls to their knees. The only other faint disruption from the anxiety-filled quiet, were the giggles of children; eager for sugar-laced treats. Dreaming of tangy and delectable goodies, racing from house to house with their bags already overflowing, and still continuing to cram more sweet, tooth-rotting goodness into the abyss of candy. Under the dim florescent lighting Toby suddenly became hysterical and began to quiver dramatically, body convulsing every way simultaneously. He was getting cold.

Panic exploded in Laura, bringing a sharp hotness to her face, cheeks aglow with abhorrence. High school had been testing. There had been times when she had seriously considered ending it all; it had seemed like the end of the world. But somewhere within well hidden intelligence that her cheerleader friends would mock, she knew it was only high school. And that in the real world there were much more frightening things. Things that hot chocolate and whipped cream wouldn't help. This was vivid, this was too real. If only it was a dream or silly fear about gossiping or playground rumours. She was in the final year, almost free of the dull lessons and dumb jocks. This was endowing strength and helping to fight the insecure impulses and doubts of her impending fate. The thought of surviving this, finishing school, and actually starting a life maintained courage. It was a test. A test that unfortunately many unsuspecting victims are forced to endure, a sick game of cat and mouse. A game where there's only one rule, that there are no rules. As she dug deep to find motivation to careen onwards on this journey, a thought was scooped from the dampness of her brain's floor. The thought was forming like a dark cloud ruining a clear blue sky on a summer's day.

Toby continued to shake as the thought process came to its conclusion. Toby was hurt, and he would need medical attention soon, or death was inevitable. Just when she considered running for help, the door to the room they were hiding in, began to rattle with echoes of a deranged, petrifying laughter. Now the horrors were not of Toby's situation, or miraculously getting an SOS message out somehow. They were of the dangerous entity lurking on the other side of the door, now aware of their hiding place, no longer a game of cat and mouse, but a deadly game of
hide and seek
. A game they were about to lose.

Chapter 1

The school entrance was littered with students, like rats scurrying for food. Except they were hungering for gossip and less concerned about scavenging for food. Each hall was buzzing with energy, all anticipating the mischief that was sure to commence on All Hallow's Eve. The walls were decorated with cobwebs, spiders hung on doors, bats stuck on lockers, conical witch hats on lights, gravestone chair covers, along with every possible icon representing horror. Immature boys raced around squirting crazy string, dressed in an endless array of costumes, from zombies, vampires, werewolves and well known movie killers. There were two types of guys at Hillcrest High: nice, honest and genuine guys, too good to be true. Or the complete opposite: cruel, deceitful and fake morons. The girls also came in two similar varieties, kind and welcoming, or horrible and hostile. There were no half way measures, either one extreme, or the other. The Marmite of adolescent populace. Laura thought of herself as fitting in to group A: the kind girls. The ones who regardless of their beauty would treat everyone with the same level of respect that they wished to receive.

Laura was usually excited for the festivities: carving pumpkins, buying candy, and covering the house in entrails and spooky fixtures. But this year, getting enthusiastic was pointless, as her fate was sealed. Being flat broke put a damper on the season. Due to being cash-strapped she'd agreed to babysit for the Andersons. They were insanely wealthy. For one evening they were paying £300. Laura's ears pricked up when she heard that figure. She insisted her father repeat himself, certain she'd misheard, but fortunately, it was true. That was a month's worth of weekend shifts selling clothes at the local shopping centre, and she could earn that in one night.
One night!
Just to
hand out goodies, supervise the Andersons kid, watch movies, chat to friends online, and generally lounge around in an extravagant house. She had jumped and told her father to call the Anderson's immediately, to make sure some other young girl didn't scoop up the job, or more accurately, yank the job from her. In a way Laura was looking forward to it, albeit it did not compare to the eagerness of a Halloween party with fellow classmates. But £300 would help to cushion the blow when the next shopping spree came around. The school days rolled on as they always do, classes, lunch, classes, then the sweet ding of the bell signalling freedom. A temporary release from the hormone stained walls, away from the ignorant kids, and home to do what most teenagers do: either partake in a thrilling video game, meet with friends, do homework, or rendezvous with their lovers and enjoy the pleasure of each others company, or technically speaking, each others sexual organs.

Laura strolled home with classmate Cindy Tomlinson. Cindy was beautiful, with the kind of skin all young girls dreamed of: smooth, soft and blemish free. Her body would be envied by an athlete, and her hair was thick and lustrous. Salons were always begging to take her photograph and display it in their salon windows. Add a perfect set of gleaming white teeth, and Cindy practically radiated supermodel. But regardless of an obviously stunning appearance, Cindy was an incredibly smart girl, which again, made most girls loath her. Full of envy of her almost inhuman intelligence and flawless features. But Laura and Cindy had been best friends since they were young. Laura had become accustomed to boys ogling and wolf whistling, and how they seemed to turn into dumb Neanderthals whenever Cindy was near. Sadly Cindy had become familiar with endless bullying from school girls, punishing Cindy because of her beauty, due to their own insecurities and self-esteem issues. The two had been involved in their fair share of fights; they always had each others back. Their bond was so strong that a rumour had swarmed around school not too long ago, claiming the two were lesbian lovers. The two were not offended. They thought being referred to as lesbians expressed how strong their friendship must appear, it was actually a compliment. So they ignored the sniggering, and eventually things died down. Surprisingly this taught them a valuable lesson, that if they ignore the gossip, eventually the vultures will find some other carcass to feast on. When caught in sinking sand the harder you fight, the quicker you sink. After a long walk in the glorious sun Laura had threw Cindy a goodbye wave and was now skipping up her drive.

With only a few hours to spare, Laura decided she would make productive use of them and finish some overdue homework. That was until she switched on the TV to one of her favourite dramas. Homework was carelessly flung aside like an out of date carton of milk, as she sat and enjoyed the riveting dramas unfolding on-screen. But before long it was almost time to leave, only an hour left before her father would be driving her to the Anderson's. Laura dove from the lime green sofa, and jogged upstairs to the bathroom. The walls were covered in luminous tiles, along with the floor, all black, which contrasted nicely with the pale lacquer of the bath, shower, sink and toilet. Grabbing her products from a mirrored cabinet she hopped into the shower, drawing the curtain shut and flipping the nozzle. The hot water screeched on, and brought its steamy vapours to ease post-high-school tension.

In just short of an hour, Laura had managed to shower, apply several lotions and potions, get dressed, and blow dry her hair. Anyone who knew Laura would appreciate what a difficult task that was. However her father Bruce was not just anyone, that was one thing he repeatedly mocked her for.

'Grab a shower, brush your teeth, roll on some deodorant, throw on some clothes and you're good to go' he'd say in a casual monotone. Laura skipped down to the kitchen lugging a bag full of homework and overnight toiletries. She figured while the kid slept, or played video games, the school work would get done, with no distractions. No melodramatic actors playing out crises on a small box to pull focus. A black vest framed her shoulders underneath a navy lightweight jacket, with red corduroy trousers, and black shoes as she entered the kitchen.

“Oh, you're ready?” he was stood, in an outdated brown business suit, cradling a take out coffee. Steam wafted from it, polluting air with the rancid reek of espresso beans. He always stunk of caffeine, that vile rotting stench, Laura loathed the stuff.

“You're a bit dressed up for babysitting aren't you?” he casually commented, no emotion in his voice.

“I am wearing a vest, trousers and shoes, dad. Not a dress and a face full of makeup,” she tutted at his lack of any knowledge in the world of fashion.

'Smart and simple' was his motto, as he always repeated, to Laura's dismay. Another pearl of wisdom she was forced to endure.

“Come on we better get on the road, it's about an hour's drive to the Anderson's place,” he muttered whilst sending an email from his phone, refusing to lift his eyes from the harsh, unflattering light on the small device.

They both sat in the car as it backed out the driveway, Laura holding her rucksack on her thighs like a toddler. The neighbourhood was a nice suburb, idyllic houses plotted on several avenues and a number of cul-de-sacs where children would ride their bikes and play street games such as curby or tag. Houses ranged from small affordable homes for young loving couples, to large spacious properties for big families, with the odd tiny apartment for ambitious singletons climbing the career ladder. The neighbourhood was awash with a diversity of colours, some neutral creams and beige, and others more bright, in yellows, greens and reds. They soon whizzed by the rainbow of homes and plummeted onto the motorway. Vehicles rushed past in a blur of metallic and rubber. The two sat, adequately uncomfortable, both playing the family's new favourite game 'don't identify the elephant in the room'.

Bruce had been living in a studio apartment for three months due to 'work' commitments but Laura was no fool. It was blatantly apparent he and her mother were having marital issues. Before moving out, they would argue constantly over the most insignificant things. Cleaning, chores, deciding on a movie or a restaurant. Then coincidently, he relocates as a result of his monopolising employment.
Do they honestly think I am that gullible?
Laura laughed to herself, baffled at their foolishness. She had been playing this game for far too long, and frankly, was tired of the whole façade.

“What you thinking about?” Bruce asked, actually sounding genuinely interested for a change.

“Huh?” Laura responded, knowing what he asked but wanting to make sure he meant it and needing more time to absorb the fact that he'd just asked about her thoughts.

“I asked what you were thinking.” He scratched his short brunette hair, greased in dollops of hair gel.

“Oh, well.....” Laura was debating whether or not to mention the taboo subject. If held in any longer she was concerned it would lead to self-combustion. An epic explosion of blood, bones and organs splattering the car's interior.

“Well, if you must know, what's going on with you and mum? Why did you move out?”

Bruce was suddenly blushing with an amber tint, beads of sweat burst to his forehead instantly. He was caught completely off-guard.

“What do you mean? I have moved for work.” Bruce fiddled with his tie, loosening it.

“Don't lie to me! I am not a kid anymore dad, I want the truth. Are you getting a divorce? Tara's parents from school used to argue all the time, and then a few months later they divorced,” Laura couldn't believe how abrupt she was being.
Maybe this was the reason people say to not hold anything in for too long.
There was an awkward silence that tore through the atmosphere like a bad smell; until Bruce spoke.

“Okay....” Bruce began, a nervous twitch taking over as he tapped the steering wheel.

Finally, he is going to speak some sense and stop patronising me!
Laura was relieved, brushing hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ears.

“Me and your mother have decided to take a break, that's all,” Bruce gulped, staring at the road, avoiding eye contact as if it would destroy his soul to look into his daughter's eyes.

“Why?” Laura prodded.

“We just.... we don't make each other happy anymore. So, we think a break is what we both need, then we are going to take it from there.”

Laura looked forwards, rife with anger, but unable to ascertain why. He had been honest, as she wanted. And that was the answer she expected. So why was she so annoyed?

“You okay?” he asked, again, sounding oddly concerned, glimpsing over at her.

“Yeah,” Laura muttered, still trapped in a world of unknown loathing, idly playing with the rucksack's zipper.

“Are you sure? You seem a lot quieter now.” He frowned.

Then it hit her like a blow to the abdomen. It was madness, but mixed into this compound of emotional anguish was abandonment. She felt betrayed and isolated from her father, as if he was leaving at the smallest sign of trouble.

“Are you just gonna leave me and mum?” she burst out, instantly regretting the question as she bit her lower lip in anxiousness.

Bruce seemed hurt by the look in his eyes; this made Laura feel unexpectedly guilty.

“Don't be silly, I will always love your mother, and you, and I would never leave you, even if....” he hesitated, holding something back, licking his dry lips.

“Even if what?” Laura didn't miss a beat and impatiently responded.

“Even if we start seeing other people,” he wiped perspiration from his forehead, exposing deep burrowed lines of distress between his eyebrows.

“So you have actually thought about dating? Are you seeing someone now?” Laura was back to her current state of irritation.

There was no answer. Tears formed ovals in her eyes as her lower lip begin to tremble. She bit it to remove any signs of inner turmoil. Laura's face was betraying her. So she stared out the window, noticing it was getting dark. They were no longer on the motorway surrounded by trucks, vans and buses. The two were now crowded by enormous trees and thick bushes, slowly careening down winding country roads. It would have been a very wonderful picturesque journey, had it not been for the awkward discussion. The stars glistened in the blue abyss above, and every so often they would pass a hill of green, sometimes cornfields, magnificent flower beds, and other times quaint farms strayed from the blurring horizon. There was a small wooden cottage in the distance that had several fenced areas outside in the garden, containing an entourage of farm animals, such as pigs, chickens, and cows. Laura prayed that wasn't the home. She despised anything rustic; she felt it was just a fancy word for old, ugly and without modern conveniences.

“No, I am not seeing anyone, but if things don't change Laura, I love your mother very much, and I really want to work this out. But like I told you, things don't change and I might have no choice...” Bruce moaned, no longer sounding burdened with the inconvenience of feeling guilty at upsetting his daughter, but now brash and confident.
As if he was not embarrassed or ashamed of that comment, that he deserved to be happy.
Men! The only reason he wants to start seeing someone else is so he can stick his dick into something. Something new and fresh. Ewww! Did I really just think that? Yuck!
Laura was disgusted at her own perverted mind in that instance.

“Anyway, we are coming to their home now,” he nodded out front, curving from the expanding uncomfortable subject.