30 May 2012
I softly finished the delicate shading to my final piece as the clock struck five hours up. The examiner gently paced up towards me, staring at me for a while, then at my paper, then back at me. I subtly smiled back into his gazing eyes, seeing my reflection in his pale, wrinkled eyes. My teacher ordered our exam as finished, and we packed up our pencil cases, returning them to our sacks. I gently lifted my artwork into my palms, attempting to not smudge it. I placed it on the pile and arrived back at my desk, the examiner behind me. He waited for me to finish packing before attempting to catch my attention. The words passing through his thick grey moustache sent chills down my neck; "I enjoyed watching you do that. Your skill is excellent." they didn't seem that important at the time, and I couldn't understand why it creeped me out so much. I loosely smiled before returning to the front to hand in my objects for my composition, and when I returned my bag had been replaced upon the table; it's contents shifted, my phone originally at the bottom had manoeuvred its way to the top. I hid it swiftly, for fear of getting accused of cheating. I had forgotten it was in there. -- The bell rang and I returned home, fumbling around with apps and texts on my phone. One new message. I expected it to be a reply from a friend, but it was an unknown number. All it said was a simple 'hello'. I figured it was my friend James, who I had previously given my new number. I replied; "Heyy, James there right? x" I was sent a reply immediately. "Would you like to meet up sometime? <3" I replied. "I guess, where u wanna go? <3" He sent me an address for a cinema, and I accepted the invite. I texted my best friend Lucy to tell her, and I asked if she wanted to come with us. She agreed. It was settled, we were to all meet there the following day at half nine in the evening. -- I took the daytime to complete various pieces of homework and revision, given I had nothing else to do. Once finished, I started a watercolour painting of me and Lucy at my fifth birthday; I became so involved that I completely forgot about the plan. I raced to the clock to check the time, but it was too late. I texted back to James and Lucy to say I was not going. I walked back in the room to finish the painting but it was gone. -- The next day, Lucy was not in school. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. I constantly texted her, called her, emailed her - but there was no reply. One new message. It was James. He had texted me saying how much he missed me, and wanted to see me. He said he had my drawing; it was beautiful- shame about the extra person. Not to worry, it had been taken care of. I went up to school the following day, and asked James what he meant by the text, and when was the last time he had seen Lucy. He didn't know what I was on about.
It wasn't his phone.
I tried tracking down the sender of the texts, but it gave no coordinates. The same thing happened with Lucy's. There was no sign of her anywhere. Her parents had sent the police out to look for her, and had found nothing. I remembered the address, and I sent the police there. They came back with a bag, a matchbox, an empty can of oil and a my watercolour painting. Well, what was left on it. Lucy had been torn off, and the edge of where she had been was singed. There was a sticky, white substance that had dried over it. They found her body - Lucy - burnt to the bone and ash, eyes gouged, hands in nail-less fists, lying as if she was sleeping through a nightmare. They never identified the murderer, though I knew who it was. My contact was open on her phone, and the address had been highlighted and sent. I knew who it was, and he knew where I lived. He's coming for me.
Stalker • Opuss № I