Period 3

2/16/07

The Stalker

Illene was always the typical happy-go-lucky American girl. She loved ice cream and went out on dates every Saturday night. She was the kind of girl that was like everyone else and easily fit in. Yet it was probably this trait that led to the incident, for every typical girl is beautiful.

It started one day in the mall when she was shopping with her friends. They were walking among a large crowd so it wasn’t very surprising when Illene bumped into someone. She murmured the usual “Sorry” and turned away, but for some odd reason, she turned back. There was something foreboding and unforgettable about him, like seeing someone being murdered before your eyes. He saw her curious gaze and turned toward her. A strange, hungry glint came into his widening black eyes and the sickly smell of mustard filled Illene’s nostrils. She hated the ugly smell and this man’s face frightened her.

Then suddenly a kind hand touched her shoulder, rescuing her from the needles in the man’s gaze. One of her friends told her, “Common, let’s go. We still have to go to Hollister.” Illene followed gratefully. That man was not a good man to be hanging around. She hoped that they never met again but little did she know that she would see him much sooner then she wished.

The next morning when Illene was walking to school, there was a car following her. She walked for a few more blocks and glanced over her shoulder. It was still there, accompanied by the smell of mustard and moving at a slow but constant pace. She shuddered. She already knew who it was. She continued on for a little longer, trying to pretend nothing was wrong but fear pounded against her eyelids every time she blinked, pleading to be set free so it could blind her and throw her into a wild frenzy. She pushed back on it but in the end it proved too strong and she ended up running the last few blocks to school. She burst into her first period classroom, her lungs gasping for air and her heart still running in her chest. Illene looked out the window just in time to see her stalker’s car driving away from the school.

After school she hung out with a couple of friends. After about ten minutes of talking one of her friends commented, “That car there has driven past here at least six times now.” Illene spun around, her eyes widening in terror. The smell of mustard wafted from the open window where a hungry looking face glared at her and only her. It had no interest in any of her friends. Illene could tell how much that dangerous face wanted her blood from the glittering coldness in its eyes.

Illene quickly turned around and asked one of her friends, “Could I get a ride home?”

Illene nervously went into her house, wondering if those vulture eyes could still see her. She wished so desperately that he would just leave her alone. Ever since she had first seen him, he had become obsessed with her. She didn’t know what to do. She was afraid to call the police in case no one was really following her and she didn’t want to tell any of her parents or friends because she was afraid that they would think she was being paranoid. She didn’t want to throw away her reputation at school just because she was a little scared of some creep that kept following her. Well, maybe she was a little more then scared but that still didn’t change the situation. She calmly went through her front door and tried to focus on that day’s lessons.

After a few hours of homework in the dining room, her mother came in and told her, “Your father and I are going out for a while. We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Illene answered as she started upstairs to get another pencil. When she opened her door, she was shocked to see what a mess it was. Some of her drawers were open and much of her clothes lay strewn on the floor. Her bed was not made the way she left it that morning and the sheets were half off, half on. Her desk, however, was nearly untouched with the exception of a small note resting lightly upon it as if the innocent letters written upon it meant nothing more than “How are you today?” But this was far from the truth. Farther away than the sun from Pluto. The note read, “I am coming tonight.” Illene ran to her open window and yelled out desperately, “Mom, wait!” But it was too late. She was just in time to see the car pull out of the driveway and roll down the street.

Illene tried to calm herself. “There’s no one after me, no one’s coming,” she reassured herself over and over but she still remained anxious. She tried to finish her homework but every time she tried to convert a logarithm to exponential form she felt sick from fear. She knew there was no way she would be able to keep this up. Suddenly there was a growling sound. She was hungry. She laughed at herself. “I’m not afraid, just hungry,” she giggled. She ordered a medium pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut and watched TV until it came, or at least until she thought it came.

The doorbell rang, startling Illene. She shut off the TV and, with money in hand, went to the white, cheery door. It opened with a slight creek. The money fluttered like dead leaves to the floor. What she had assumed was the pizza man was in reality her stalker. Her whole body shook and her mouth dropped down two feet. He walked into the house as she cautiously retreated. The silently sickening smell of mustard invaded the room. “Did you get my message?” he asked in a voice that almost didn’t seem human. Fear flew into her heart on black wings.

Illene couldn’t speak. This man that had followed her for so long scared her speechless. Her chest felt heavy and she almost couldn’t breathe. She wished and wished for the power to make this horrid man leave but she knew she would never posses it.

He smiled, enjoying her helplessness. “What’s the matter, not frightened are you?” he asked mockingly. She still didn’t dare use her tongue. “Answer me darn you!” He pushed her backwards and she ran into the wall. She nodded quickly, not wanting to invoke his wrath. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Ahh, good,” he purred, “I like my prey hopeless and fearful.”

“You’re sick,” she whispered. His lips curled into his cheeks a bit more like fat caterpillars moving on a leaf.

“I have been told that,” he pulled a knife out from his pocket, “but I like to think of myself as gifted.” He moved further towards her until he was right in front of her. He fingered the knife in his hand.

Illene suddenly made a decision. She would not succumb to him. She would not die by his hand. She wanted to live a long life full of happiness. As fast as she could she bent down to the floor and crawled between his legs, then stood and started running for the door. He snarled and gave chase. It was inevitable that he catch her. After all, he was a bigger, faster man and she was merely a girl of sixteen. He grabbed her arm and she stopped suddenly and threw herself at his legs. He fell over her back and the knife flew from his hand into the hallway. He and Illene both made a mad dash for it at once. Illene got to the knife first and thrust it towards him in self defense. Unfortunately for him, this was right into his chest and he clutched at the knife handle, bellowing in pain. Illene wasted no time running upstairs. She did not want to risk running past him to the front door. Illene quickly went into her room and dialed 911. A female voice answered, “This is 911, and how may I help you?”

Illene wasted no time, her mind racing, “Quick, send someone over. There’s a strange man in my house that’s been following me ever since yesterday. He forced his way into my house and he has a knife.”

The voice was completely calm and cool as if it were merely discussing the weather. It made Illene want to hit the speaker. “Yes, we will send someone over right away.”

Illene was relieved but took no chances. She hid in her room until the police knocked on her door. They brought her back downstairs to have a medical team make sure she was okay. As she passed her stalker, she could see he had written “I’m still watching you” in the blood that used to keep him alive. She shuddered and continued walking, rejoicing in the dissipation of the mustard smell along with the man’s cruel lust.