dangerous woman| phantoms book one| Wattys2016

needed me

alexis|her first letter

Dear Al,

You might be wondering who this is. Due to my current situation, I can't exactly give you the location of my wherabouts, or my name but I'm sure that as you read on, you'll figure it out. I have no idea what I'm doing. Everything's so weird now, you wouldn't understand. I know you want answers, everyone in Sunnings probably does. Can't you hear them now?

Find that psycho! Burn that witch that ruined our peaceful town!

I don't know why I'm laughing. It's not funny so don't get it twisted. I guess it's because one of my main goals in life was to become famous and now I am. In a way that I totally did not predict. But I don't mind. I'm sure you don't mind either. I bet you're glad that it was me and not you, yeah...I bet you're really glad. I did you a massive favor so in a way, you kind of owe me. You needed me to do what I did, not for me but for you. This is the first letter. There's many more for you and there's a bunch more for others too- don't ask and don't try to reply to my letters. Guess that would be a little hard for you anyway considering the fact that you don't have my actual adress. But wait. Let me get back to the point.

I did something terrible.

I did something horrible.

You might think that I'm drowning in guilt or that I'm finding means and ways to pluck some courage from the chicken wings plastered to my back so that I can hand myself into the police and confess. Uh uh. No. Because what I did was not out of impulse, it wasn't something I did out of anger either. I had thought about doing it for such a long time. A very long time. It was premeditated murder and I don't feel an ounce of guilt. I don't feel an ounce of guilt for the family of that damn pig (who's happily rotting btw you are most definitely welcome), I definitely don't feel an ounce of guilt for his stupid friends (who are grieving- yayy), the only person I actually feel sorry for is you. Because now he doesn't have to go through the trials and struggles of life, his body is decomposing but his mind and soul are happily at ease. Whatever his worst enemies say, he's resting in peace. After all he did to you, he won't have to pay. Guess that's kind of my fault. But in a way, I guess I helped you. You're safe now. He can't hurt you any longer. And yeah, you could have just rushed out of your room and hopped right into the police station upon reading my opening statement, but even if that was a real option, you probably would just stay in your room, blinds drawn, yelling reluncant I'm fines to your mother because she keeps asking, reading this letter while gulping.

I just hope you know that I'm watching you. Just like you watched me get humiliated by Michael Anders every single day.

But I guess I wasn't the only one being humiliated by him, right? I was terrified of him, he was the nightmare
for me. He was the monster in the closet and the one underneath my bed too. But never, in a million years would I have thought that he'd ever do the stuff he did to you to me. I still remember the day I caught him...you know.

I don't know if you knew but my grandfather is the owner of the club downtown. You know, the one filled with freaks and lowlifes. No wonder Michael was there, right? Haha, no? My grandfather was a mafia man, he wasn't actually in the mafia but he might as well have been. He had the clothes, the money, the cars, and the twenty something girls clinging onto him as if he were Reece King. You know, the English model? He would have totally beaten Michael up if he knew what he was doing to me at school. Michael still would have had a smart mouth about it though. Grandfather gave me a job there at the club, there was a secret bar at the back, one which not many people knew about because it was secret, duh. And it was also my workplace (here's a gift from me to you, if you ever want to get into that bar just kncok three times and whisper 'death row')

Anyways, my daily shift had ended and I had to start the walk home. My grandad insisted to have one of his drivers drive me but I rejected since his drivers were as fishy as ponds. Plus, if my parents knew that he'd hired me to work at a club, they'd have his head. So how exactly was I going to explain the long stretch of limo outside at 3 am? I'd heard some noises coming from the corner and trust me, I wasn't keen on taking the alleyway home but it was my only choice. So I'd hoped that whoever was out there would get on with their business and leave me out of it. But then I saw that it was you. There were tears. In your eyes. I could tell that you didn't want them to fall, you were channeling all of your emotions into one and pushing them deep deep down, somewhere where no-one could reach it. The whole school had heard anecdotes of your little 'escapades' - me included- you were known as the school's harlot. But at that moment, when I saw you and Michael in the alleyway, I understood. I actually understood. And I'm sorry. For misjudging you so many times. For not taking a second to peep into your side of the story. I'm sorry he exploited you like that.

I'm so sorry.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, the whole walk home, that sleepless night...it hurt me. The next day, I couldn't wait to get into school, because even if he didn't know, I knew. I thought that I finally had one up on him. If he tried to hurt me, I'd go straight to the police. I should have gone to the police anyway. I can't believe what I was thinking, everything had gotten so out of hand at school that I'd lost my mind. I shouldn't have taken advantage of your situation, it made me just as bad as him.

I was at my locker a week after when somebody suddenly pushed me. My arms were stuck to my sides as two hands pinned me to the wall behind me and BAM. I was looking into the eyes of our dear friend, Michael.

'If you tell anyone what happened that night,' he said, 'I will kill you.'

I gulped, standing there awkwardly. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say?

I licked my lips, picking at the dry skin with my teeth. 'You're hurting her, Michael. You need to stop.' My voice was just a joke, even I thought that I sounded pathetic. He just chuckled, flashed that million dollar smile at me again, and then suddenly slammed me hard against the lockers. VOOM. The smile was gone.

'It's business. Something that I don't need to explain to you.'

'Then why are you?'

And I was like score! Because I never ever thought that I'd be able to talk back to him. Maybe that's what I was missing, maybe that's what made me such a target. Because I wasn't standing up for myself.

He didn't say anything after that. He just gave me the dirtiest look he could muster and walked away from me, just as the bell rang. Nobody had ever looked at me like that. Nobody had ever made me feel so worthless. There was so much genuine disgust in his eyes; I just couldn't understand it.
I really couldn't.

That night, I stared at my full length body mirror and tried to copy the look Michael had given me. I tried to see what he saw, I tried to look at mysef through his eyes, but I just couldn't do it.

I sighed.

Sirens. That's all I can hear right now. Might seem stupid but even though he's dead, they remind me of him. The police cars outside are chasing somebody down and I'm terrified that it's me. I'm somewhere far far away from Sunnings. Don't lose too much sleep over this letter. You're a very strong person and I admire you for that. They're going to put me away if they find me, you already know that. So hide this letter somewhere that nobody can find otherwise I swear it'll be the last. I went to his funeral btw, just thought you wanted to know. Nobody saw me, I'm too smart for that. And at midnight, just as the clock struck twelve, I stood in the empty graveyard, looking down at the letters on his gravestone, and with all my mighty force, I spat on his grave. I should have vandalised it too. Gosh, I hate that kid so much that sometimes, I sort of wish that I didn't kill him just so that I could torture him instead, make him hurt like the way he hurt us. I've got to go now, the sirens keep going round and round here. I don't wanna be stuck in the middle of something dangerous now, would I?

Yours truly,

Me