Stalked

Chapter 3 : Haunted

A shiver ran down my back, the feeling sending goosebumps up my arm. Again, the question repeated itself in my head:

Should I open it?

The pros and cons of this situation played out in my mind. For all I know, it could be one of those explosive letters that will end my life, ALTHOUGH it could just be a note Mrs. Randy dropped.

My guts told me to not open it, but curiosity overcame me and instantly, I opened the letter.

Dear Tori,

For so long, I have wanted to contact you but the servants of the man after you imprisoned me. I managed to escape and for my life's sake, I will have to flee the country in a few days' time but I had to fulfill your parents' last wish. They made me promise to tell you the truth once I was let out because they knew they were going to die soon, sadly. Your parents are not your biological parents. You are born of royalty and the people you call your parents were only your caretakers. Your true parents died in a war and your caretakers took them with you and fled because of the enemies after you. You are of high value, Tori, as the daughter of a King. This is why they are after you; with you dead, He has right to take your inheritance that your parents left behind. Now, I will have to stop writing for unimportant reasons, my last warning to you: WATCH OUT.

Yours sincerely,

Your "Mother's" brother, Daniel

I stared at the letter, my eyes widened in disbelief. I didn't know what to believe nor do. Mom and Dad weren't my actual parents? I was royalty? Tears pricked at my eyes and my head ached with confusion. I remember Uncle Daniel very well, from the time he stayed with us for Christmas about ten years ago, but he had just disappeared. After the Christmas he spent with us, months later, he had been kidnapped and ever since, they haven't found him. But what on Earth does he mean in this letter? Who is "He"?

Questions rattled in my head, maximizing my headache. Finally, the tears surrounded my eyes flowed, sliding down my cheeks silently. I had been lied to all these years. The people I thought were my parents were actually my so-called caretakers. But at least, it would have been nice if my biological parents were alive, but no, they too died.

I hate my life. Because I don't understand it; because it's not normal, and just because it sucks.

I ripped the letter, shredding it into tens of little bits. I dumped them in the trash in the Kitchen, then stomped up the stairs, anger evident in my every step. Slamming the door to my room behind me, I flung myself on the bed and yes, cried. Call me pathetic but that's what I am. I don't know who the heck my parents are, I've been lied to my entire life so far by my dead "caretakers", and I'm being stalked, so don't you dare judge me. I have a right to feel like complicated shit.

As I cried, my weakness turned into sleepiness. My eyelids drooped and my tear-stained eyes burned slightly, from the crying. I was so sleepy I didn't hear someone quietly open the front door. Because I was on the verge of dozing off, I didn't hear someone trudge up the stairs silently, only the soft creak of wood. By the time my door screeched open, I was fast asleep.