"A nightmare is what most would call my calamity, the victim of crazed stalker and murderer who was a friend of the family. If we had seen the signs sooner, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe I would be the same girl.", I said, with a heavy heart, looking out the window at the rain falling. It was the perfect backdrop for the telling of my story.
I was laying in a local hospital, fixed with needles in me, filling my bloodstream with who knows what. Who I was talking to was a reporter that I allowed to come in from the mob waiting outside to hear my story. He was nice man so far. He didn't shout at me, demanding that I tell him a bunch of rehearsed lies that my parents taught me to tell to protect them. He had a five o clock shadow, salt and pepper hair, a slight tan that seemed to be emphasised by his shimmering green eyes. He was wearing a simple white button up, some gray slacks and standard running shoes. "Excuse me for interrupting Miss Reinheit, but you almost sound sorrowful for it ending. Do you regret that you escaped from him?", the man asked softly, writing everything down as well as recording me with his phone. I sighed and looked at him with tears forming in my eyes. "Wouldn't you if you realized you just caused a life to end?", I said, my voice cracking with heartache as I recall the days I spent with him, terrified and scared at his hands but I couldn't say about that yet. I know this sounds like Stockholm syndrome but it was something completely different. Even the psychiatrist said that it was different from what my parents accused me of having, till he was paid enough to say otherwise.
The man nodded for me to continue and wiped my eyes of the tears as I let the true words of the past slip from my lips. "It all began a week before the murder."
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EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER
SEPTEMBER 28TH, 2:30 PM
"HEY LOOK WHO IT IS, MISS MOLE FACE!", I heard from across the crowed hallway. 'How do they find me so quick?!', I think as I gather everything to leave for the day. Unfortunately, fate had a different idea for me that day. I felt a hand on my shoulder and someone began dragging me to the bathroom. I begged for someone to help me but everyone seemed to avert their eyes as I was dragged away. Even some of teachers looked away while the others just watched on, helpless to lend a hand. The reason was simple enough as to why they didn't do anything. My tormentors were the daughters of some of the money suppliers of the school. Rachel Gier, Michelle libidine, and the ring leader of them and probably the one who started the witch hunt on me in the first place, Monaco Gespenst. Their fathers were the top dogs, if you will, in the town. They pretty much owned everything besides some mom and pop shops here and there. Most of the students either worked for or had a family member under their thumb. It was sad but necessary for them not to interfere.
When we busted into the bathroom, everyone left. It was the end of the day and all the toilets were clean. Most of the people in that school took pity on me and made sure to only go to the bathroom during class, where I was safe. "Looks like mole face is a bit thirsty, don't you agree girls?", Monaco said, looking at her counter parts as they nodded and kicked open a door. They quickly shoved my head in the toilet and flushed it, making it harder for me to hold my breath. Even after they had flushed they kept my head under water for a minute or so, just to see me squirm for air. They let me up and I gulped in all the air I could before they threw me to the ground to kick me in my stomach till I threw up all it's contents and a bit of blood.
They laughed at my misery and soon left, leaving me in a pool of vomit and a bit of blood.
20 minutes after that, when I could finally stand the burning in my stomach and throat, I got up and went to the sink and mirror. I forgot to put my hands on my face again and looked at the bruises along with the water dripping down my face and brownish red hair. They called me mole face because I had brown eyes and a somewhat prominent nose alone with some freckles in lines that appeared to some as whiskers. In all honesty, I hated my face and wanted plastic surgery to get rid of the nose and freckles. But it cost way too much and my family insists there was nothing wrong with my face.
YOU ARE READING
The Stalker of Her Nightmares
General FictionConstance Reinheit is a junior at Nocte Periculum High in the small town of Portum, Michigan. She has the most normal of lives a teenager could have. Her mother is a lawyer and her father is a teacher at one of the universities in the next town over...