Convicted

Chapter 9: Stalker

Change of plans, the story will continue on,  anyway sorry for the long delayed update but here you go! :D

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Short Recap: Cecilia attends Olivia's housewarming party, sees Michael with Jenny, she gets upset and leaves the house.

            "Fuck this. Fuck that." I muttered to myself, kicking a Coco-Cola can on the street and watching it roll towards a tree, reaching a halt. I could act. Act out my actions, my feelings. Act them out in movies but when it came to real life, I couldn't handle any of my emotions. Coupled with the fact that I never had a boyfriend, dealing with Michael was just a disaster. Having spent my whole life in the showbiz, there wasn't time for me to settle down. 

             "Cecilia darling, to be successful in this industry, you need to fight for it. By hook or by crook, I'll make sure you reach there."  My mom cradled my small face in her hands, giving me a sad smile. I nodded blindly. 

            "Mary!" My dad said warningly, "she's just six, don't force all this on her." 

             "She's never too young to learn stuff, love." My mother whined, grabbing my hand and pulled me with her to join my father at the dining table. 

              "I can do this, daddy."  I said determinedly, my arms akimbo, as if that little gesture could convince him that I would definitely succeed.

              My dad broke out into a fit of laughter, lifting me up and setting me to sit on the chair. The smell of cream mushroom soup reached me and I eagerly raised my spoon, ready to dig in.

              Mom lightly smacked my hand and I yelped in surprise. "Say your prayers first," she chided.

               I smiled at the memory. "Okay, mom." I had replied. I had always agreed with whatever my parents wished of me. My mom was set on me becoming a actress, to become as famous as she is. My dad also a fellow actor, wasn't as forceful as my mother was, telling me that I could just do whatever made me happy. For a period of time when I was younger, I thought acting was my dream job. My mother signed me up for drama classes, I began auditioning and at the age of 12 I shot to stardom for a Children's Show called DinoGirls I was in. A few years later, I was given many chances to star in many shows that my parents took me out of school and arranged me to have private tuition instead.

                I didn't have as many friends for my age, and spent a lot of time trying to practice and perform better. It didn't help that I was constantly moving to different states for my shows, any friendship I've had was shortlived. When I was 20, I exploded from all the stress at work and told my mom that I wanted to quit the showbiz and just have a normal life. She however, was not as encouraging and had sent me to rehabilitation, saying that it solved her problems and thus will solve mine. I spent six months at what they call rehab and I learnt about what I did not want instead having my "mental issues" cured.

                Fast forward now, I landed a contract to star in Convicted.

                Snapping out of my stupor, I realised I have been sitting on a park bench for god knows how long. "What time is it?" I thought, looking around for my purse. Memory brought me back to my purse lying casually on the couch in Olivia's house.

               Shit! Today is a bad fucking day.

               I considered going back to her house but thought otherwise. I totally didn't need to see Michael right now. There was spare keys under my doormat so there was no problem getting back home, and my phone's locked, no way someone like Jenny or Olivia would be able to get pass the code.

               Brisk walking, I made my way back home.

              As I was walking, I noticed there was another shadow behind me, following. It was probably 2 .a.m in the morning and I wasn't sure whether I was hallucinating or this is real.

              Bad news Cecilia, you asked for it. Walking around without your bodyguard. I thought, taking another turn to confirm the shadow behind me. I was afraid turning around would cause the person to attack me. I was completely vulnerable with nothing to protect myself. 

               The shadow turned with me.

                I jumped past a pile of neatly swept leaves and ran. My heart was racing and fear overwhelmed me. I heard the rustling of leaves behind me and knew the person is coming after me.

               My body felt numb and I kept running, hysteria taking over me.

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  EMMETT'S POV:

                                     "FORENSIC LAB" The sign above the doors read.

                 Pushing past the large metals doors, I walked in and stood at a corner, watching Perry at work. She stopped, turned to me and cracked a grin.

                 "Find anything else?" I queried. With the leads that the forensic team uncovered so far for Valerie Fowler, it was barely anything. 

                 "Not looking too good." Perry shook her head in dismay removing her white gloves and taking off her mask. She furrowed her eyebrows, looking frustrated.

                  "What do you mean?" I demanded, hoping she won't beat around the bush.

                 "Mr Emmett, always the impatient one,"  Perry commented. She picked up a file and scribbled notes in it. "Deceased showed signs of struggle. The murderer knows what he's doing. There were no fingerprints in her neck. Her hands were tied. He drugged her.  Traces of sleeping pills in her blood. With her hands tied, she can't fight back. In cases like this, victim fights back, digs her fingernails into the killer's skin and we will be able to trace them. Not  in this case."

                "Murderer is experienced." I said matter-of-factly. Following through on her words, I began the scenario in my head. Drugs her, ties her up, strangles her. Clean and easy. But sleeping pills? My head was pounding heavily.

                 "Not enough sleep?" Perry asked, a look of concern on her face.

                 "Haven't been sleeping since I took up this case." I replied, surprising myself at how sick I sounded.

                "Get some rest, Emmett. Can't finish a case if you are exhausted. I'll call you if anything else comes up."

                "Don't think I will be able to sleep with the murderer on the loose."

                 With that, I spun my heel and left the room.