the stalker's dance

Chapter One

the sound of falling drops echoed like an everyday morning rain. Harsh and dramatic, while remaining soft at the same time. The continued drops crashing in a rythme, this rythme knocking down on you, forcing you to open your eyes. A gentle yet bothersome reminder that you need to step out from your dreams and get back to reality. Except this morning, there was no rain. The clouds were fluffy, empty. White with a slight taint of grey only. This storm wasn't the kind they had to face. It was something much chillier. Much more damaging. Something no umbrella could cover them from. Only their hands over their own eyes could attemps to protect their warm blood from turning cold.

drop, drop, drop...

The girls stand there, completely frozen. They were too late to sheild themselves from the disturbing disaster raining on them. It is so, so quiet. Not a single sound can be heard, except from their shaky breaths. Not one of them can take their eyes away from the gruesome sight. The young girls are shocked and fascinated, sad and confused, afraid and threatened. they are soacked with so much at once and by such a surpised that that they all just stand there, immobile. Wet head to toe from fright.

drop, drop, drop...

Olive shifts her gaze to her friend, whos eyes are filled with tears, whos mouth ran empty of words. Whos grief is slowly taking over her body, leaving a bittersweet warmt inside. Just enough to melt away the freezing view glued on her eyes and get back to her senses. Her nerves unfrost. she covers her mouth, and let out an aching cry. None of them had ever seen something like this before. They all stare at it, at her, her delicate body, soiled from her very own blood. She's ingraciously tied above their heads, emptied of life. She's now like the clouds, just as empty, just as grey, just as deluded of liquid. It fell at their feet, instead of the rain. Her who used to be so alive, so loving, so soft. now, she could never be soft again, let alone in the shape of a memory. She is never to be touched again. She is never to be warm again. She will never be, again. Her life was robbed, and in such a despicable, hateful way.

drop, drop, drop...

Olives vision starts to get foggy. She might not be moving an inch, but inside, She's spiraling. Like she is being thrown all over the walls. Her throat has an unsufferable burning feeling. Like thorns grew from her chest and are slowly climbing up to reach her mouth, and maybe then, words would bloom out of there. But instead, it just hurts. Its painful. The torture that is guilt is one feeling she knows too well. Her friends, they dont know. She's only tormented because she knows something they don't. She know why this happened. She knows who did this. She knows if she had been smarter, this could of been prevented. This could have stayed a nightmare. A mere threat written on a paper. She feels defeated. No one else should have woken up to that crippling fear. She was supposed to be the one taking care of it. She thought she could shoulder it. She sees now how delusional she was, and how terribly she failed. Olive clearly wasnt capable enough to handle this. Even worst, by trying to do something she ended up doing nothing but fuel the twisted flames of the monster responsible for this. She played in this game and got her fingers burned. This incident is a consequence. The result from her stupid desire to act, to shout when she should have stayed quiet. From her not listening, again and again. Its all because she got too bold, felt all mighty and dismissed the police. She dreads her friends reaction once they'd know what had been going on in their back. If only they knew that what is for them a sudden tragedy has been Olive's hideous reality for now months. She's fighting the urge to tell them the words cutting open her throat. that she is sorry, that this is her fault. but instead, She swallows back the cheap petals that served excuses for her foolishness. They fall down right back to her gut. where they'll stay and rot, until one day she rots along with them. Amy's mother comes down the stairs. startled by the scenes, she drops her bag down. With wide eyes, she gets closer to the scene. But unlike the younger girls, she was capable of speaking.