The Watchers

The Watchers - Chapter Five

I tossed and turned in my twin sized bed. One moment I was clutching onto my comforter for warmth, the next I was throwing it as far as I could because I was covered in sweat. When I closed my eyes, all I saw were images of Isabel, of the funeral, and of the creepy note left in my suitcase. And when I opened my eyes, all I could see was that I was surrounded by darkness and felt as if the person who killed Isabel was watching me that very moment. Was this how Isabel felt before she was murdered, I began to wonder? Did someone threaten her or leave random mysterious notes stating she was going to be killed?

I wanted nothing more than for this to all go away, but I knew deep down it wouldn't. Life would never move on for me unless I found out why she was murdered. But why... why would anyone want to end her life? Growing up, Isabel was always the child who got into trouble. If there was something she wanted to do, she wouldn't let anything stand in her way, including our mother. Isabel would sneak out of the house to see a boyfriend. She would attend every party that she was invited to, even if mom disapproved. And what mom didn't know was that most of the time she drug me along.

She was loud, opinionated, and always got her way. Being captain of our cheer leading team in high school not only made her popular but allowed her to pretty much rule the school. But there were people who didn't like Isabel and I wasn't sure why. Was it because they were jealous or was it something I didn't know? I was always school oriented and focused on my grades. While Isabel was out shopping with her girl friends or having fun at parties, I stuck my nose in books and concentrated on homework.

But I also did have some fun every now and then; it just took Isabel to drag me towards the fun. She always knew how to talk me into things, such as being her designated driver for a party so I would go, talk to a boy she knew I liked but was too shy to do so, or even sneak out of the house along with her. These were things I didn't think about doing until she talked me into it. But looking back on those times, they were some of the most fun I had with Isabel. She knew how to make someone feel special and she knew how to make me happy.

I was surprised when Isabel decided to stay in our home town and go to Salem State University instead of going to Wington University that was over 100 miles away from home. She had always said there were bigger things waiting for her outside of Salem, but she never left. Instead she chose to stay with our mom and stated that she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life, when it was clearly all around her. She loved fashion; it was her passion and dream to design her own clothing line. When Wington University told her that she could get a bachelors degree in design, her face light up like a Christmas tree and I knew that was everything she ever wanted. But for her to not go towards her dream was very unlike her.

Maybe there was something Isabel was hiding from me and maybe that thing was something that got her murdered. I had to find out the truth. I rose from my bed with shaky legs and stumbled my way towards my bathroom. I looked towards the pink peace-sign clock hanging on the light purple walls that read 5:55am and let out a loud exhale of frustration. Why couldn't I had slept, I was clearly tired.

I washed my face with cold water before jumping into the shower. As I allowed the hot water beat against my back, a flash back began to appear into my mind. "Abigail, have you've seen my American Apparel sheer red dress is?" Isabel yelled through her connected door that went into our shared bathroom. "You're what?" I replied through the shower, trying to avoid soap from going into my eyes. "I swear I need to teach you more about style. I mean who still wears wool sweaters that look as if they were made from grandma?" She laughed. I could hear her walking into my room.

"Hey, I bought that at Jc Pennies thank you very much. Not to mention it was on sale." I informed, popping my wet head through the peace-sign covered shower curtain. "My point exactly." She eyed me through the door way. "Not to mention I regret allowing you to decorate our bathroom. It looks like hippie came in and puked everywhere." Rolling my eyes, I looked around on the bathroom floor for her red dress. "Are you done picking on me? If not, I won't tell you where your dress is." I taunted, shoving my head back into the shower. "One more thing, if you wear your hair in one more pony tail I am going to cut it off. Ok, I am done now." Isabel remarked with a hint of a grin in her tone.