Ellie Taylor was a shy twenty-five year old girl who didn't know what to do with her life. Her parents had recently passed away, leaving Lottie to inherit a small country cottage house in the middle of nowhere; a far cry from her last few years spen...
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Liam sat in the field that night reminiscing on the evenings happenings. He thought of Mark, and all of the embarrassment that was on its way for his friend.
He thought of Sophie. Poor Sophie. All she wanted was Mark's attention. Well, she got it last night! Mark couldn't take his eyes of her after she had dropped to the floor.
He thought of Dylan aka Pat. Poor Dylan really had earned that nickname tonight, Liam thought to himself. The lyrics of the infamous Postman Pat theme tune came to his mind - "Pat feels he's a really happy man..." well not anymore, Liam chuckled to himself. What had he gotten himself into?
Silly Pat.
Liam's mind then thought of Ellie. Dear sweet Ellie.
Ellie had driven him mad since the day he had first laid eyes on her. She was gorgeous. The type of beauty that it hurt to look at. She was too kind, too nice. He had no choice but to be too hard, too angry.
Some would say that boys bully the girls that they fancy, and this was true in Liam's case, although he would never admit it.
He wanted to crack her. Make her snap. Test her patience. He loved seeing her stumble in front of him. Liam knew that he was a prick, but he couldn't help it. And if girls like Ellie couldn't deal with it, then that wasn't his problem...
He recalled the first time that he had laid eyes on her.
He must of been around fifteen ... sixteen? He couldn't recall, but he remembered the rest ever so clearly...
A hot summer's day had meant a stroll for Mark and Liam as they head towards the barnyard. They were always hanging out together and causing trouble, even back then, more that now. They walked through the fields, the sun blaring down on them as they discussed topics of mass importance such as The Beatles, smoking and girls.
On this particular day, Mark had been telling Liam of this girl named Sophie who he believed that he was in love with. Liam cursed him, telling him that there is no such thing and that he should be ashamed of himself for using such words. He laughed at this ignorant memory
They continued to walk through the dry meadows when in the distance Liam spots two figures sprawled out on the grass. As he and Mark get closer, they are able to make out the noise of girls giggling. Marks arm suddenly jolts out in front of him as he points to the girl with the auburn hair.
"That's her" he whispers excitedly. The girls have now noticed the boys and sit up instantly, putting down their cups of what appears to be apple juice.
How innocent.
From the way that Mark is gawking at the girl with the red hair, Liam guessed that this was the famous Sophie. She seemed to be annoyed at Mark over something or other, and while they were chatting between themselves, Liam couldn't help but catch a cheeky look at the other girl.
"Well, Well, well" he had said, trying to gage whether either of them were fearful. Liam liked doing that, testing peoples fear levels.
I stared her out until I got what I'd wanted: the look of fear.
She was cute, I remember thinking even back then.
Her friend, however had quiet the mouth on her.
They began to gather their stuff and get up when I realised something. These must of been the girls who had been staying in the barn. My barn. I warned them not to return, and I remember Sophie being the only one to speak back.
The other girl was mute. She bowed her head in embarrassment as she and Sophie rose from the grass. Stranger girl was wearing a dress, and I remember at the time my teenage heart beating like crazy. She was dead fit, but too quiet for my liking. Too shy. Too pure.
As they made their way home, Mark and I followed them, calling them (mostly Sophie) names, to which she roared back confidently. The other girl however remained mute and watched her feet the whole journey back.
We left them as we approached the end of the field, and we watched them both walk away.
I watched her walk away.
From that day on, I made a pact with myself to get her talking. She would fear me, yet become obsessed with me.
That girl was Ellie. Ellie Taylor.
And now I was starting to question whether she feared me, or I feared her.
Whether she was obsessed with me, or I obsessed with her....
I lay down on the warm grass and plot my next plan. I had to turn the tables back. I had to make her fear me again.
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