Scramble

Georgia Anne Is Being Stalked

"Seriously! You can't be that easy!" Georgia laughed at her best friend, Mollie.

It's been ten years since Veronica Carter had five year old Georgia Anne dropped off at her parents house, and in those ten years Georgia has grown the be an outgoing young woman, at least that's how her grandmother put it.

"What?" Mollie said sheepishly. "I can die any day now! I don't wanna die a virgin."

'You're fifteen years old! You don't need to lose your virginity so fast!" Georgia explained.

"Well then Georgie." Mollie said with a grin, knowing Georgia hated the nickname her grandfather had given her at the age of six. "How long should I wait?"

"It's not like there's an age you should lose it." Started Georgia, trying to find the right words to express her thoughts. "You should wait until you find a guy who dates you with the intention to get to know you and not just sex." She finished while Mollie looked at her as if she's just said she'd seen a masked serial killer outside her window.

"But that can take forever to find!" Shrieked Mollie. Mollie was a blue eyed girl with long red hair. Her looks described her exactly, pure and innocent. The conversation she is currently having is new to her. Six months ago Mollie Rayne Sader would have thought ill of someone who was thinking about losing their virginity at fifteen.

But six months ago she had met Georgia Anne Carter. The brown eyed, black haired girl with an outgoing and manipulative personality that could fool anyone. Her looks are the definition of deceiving. She had big eyes that looked like they belonged on an innocent little girl, who is frequently stalked by thirty-five year old men suffering from pedophilia.

Truth be told, Georgia would usually be the one talking about loosing her virginity at fifteen and making fun of preps like Mollie. She wore combat boots with short skirts and band t-shirts most of the time, and kept her hair in pigtails that made her look like the whore version of daddy's little princess.

"Not if you're looking in all the right places." Georgia stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She loved to show Mollie that she was smart too because while Mollie was getting A's and B's on her report card, Georgia was barely getting by with, C's, D's, and the occasional F.

Mollie sighed, deciding not to go on with the conversation and rose from her bean bag chair in the corner of the room.

When she realized Mollie had gotten up, Georgia repeated her actions and walked downstairs alongside her.

"What time is it,Molls?" Georgia asked using Mollie's nickname that Mollie hate almost as much as Georgia hated being called Georgie.

"7:45" She answered.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! I gotta go! I told Gram and Gramps I'd be home by eight!" Georgia said in a rush.

She grabbed her bag and cell phone off of the kitchen counter and ran out the door yelling: "Goodbye! Farewell! See ya tomorrow Molls!"

She didn't slow down until she was five blocks from her small, one floored home and it started to drizzle. Not many people knew, but Georgia loved the rain. It was one thing that made her feel normal instead of different.

Growing up with you're grandparents instead of parents was something other children loved to tease her about when she was little. As she got older people still judged her, but not only about her parents not being present in her life, but about how she dressed. All her life she's felt like she wasn't meant to be where she was, no matter her location. Whether it was home or all the way across the world, she still felt outcasted.

Georgia stood in the rain for a few seconds before she started walking again. She walked for about five minutes until she came to a sudden hault. She could've sworn she's heard footsteps behind her.

Her torso twisted around as she turned to see if there was anyone there, but saw no one.

"Who's there!" She shouted to what she thought was no one.

"This is ridiculous!" She thought to herself. "There's no one there! I'm just paranoid."

She continued her walk home, but still had the gut feeling that someone, or something, was watching her, following her.

Georgia entered her house without another thought on her paranoia and went straight to bed.

A man, who had been following Georgia, appeared from behind a privet bush in the neighbor's yard. He brushed off any grass that had been on his black clothing and resumed his walk down the street, but this time without someone to follow.

She didn't know it, but Georgia Anne is being stalked.