Stalker

by Clarissa Wild

  “Great performance, Vanessa,” the director tells me as we both watch the images on the screen.

  “Thank you,” I say with a broad smile. “I think I just needed that final push.” After thirty takes, it was about time.

  “It looks great,” my assistant says. “Especially the kiss. It’s really authentic.”

  “You think?” I say, fishing for more compliments. I love hearing how good I can fake things.

  She nods. “Loved it!”

  She gives me a high five as the director shakes my hand and winks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, David. Great work today. See you,” I say, waving as I walk away.

  The smile instantly fades from my face as we walk to my dressing room and my assistant, Paige, keeps on yapping.

  “Don’t forget you have an appointment with the vocal coach tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” I say, as I open the door and walk in, taking off my earrings, which hurt.

  “Oh, and before I forget … Happy Birthday!”

  She suddenly wraps her arms around my neck, catching me by surprise. I have no idea what to do with this sudden affection, especially when she refuses to take her hands off me after half a minute has passed.

  “Thanks,” I say, as I peel her off me. “But I’d rather not know.”

  “Why? Twenty-seven isn’t that old,” Paige says.

  I place my finger on her lips. “Not another word.”

  She frowns at me. “Okay …”

  “I just don’t like to hear it.” I shrug.

  “Well, I do hope you have a great party,” Paige hums.

  I give her my regular fake smile. “Of course. Once I get home, I’m pulling out the champagne.” I wink.

  She smiles as if she really believes me. “Good. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She starts to walk away, but then turns to face me again. Walking backwards, she says, “If you need anything, just give me a call, okay? I’m always there to help.”

  “I will.” I smile and wave until she’s gone out of sight and then close the door, sighing.

  Either being alone is the best feeling in the world or it’s the scariest thing there is. Trapped in silence is sometimes a good thing, especially after a busy day, but on days like this … it cuts into my soul.

  I sit down behind the mirror and grab the face wipes, gently patting down my face until I’ve removed all the make-up. Rinsing my face in a bowl of water, I look at the mask I’m peeling away, layer by layer, until there’s nothing left but a lonely, bitter bitch.

  Stripping away everything until only the nakedness remains forces me to face the cold, hard truth. What I see is paperwhite skin, interrupted by an ugly purplish blue bruise. It’s been a long time since I saw one of those, but seeing it now is like a brick to the face. It breaks the façade I hold so dearly.

  My eyes grow watery, but I shake my head and take a deep breath, pushing away all thoughts as I clean my face again.

  Someone suddenly knocks on my door.

  I turn my head, covering the mark with my hair as the receptionist leans in. “Excuse me; someone left these for you at the front desk. I’m supposed to give them to you.”

  With furrowed brows and parted lips, I gaze at the enormous bouquet of roses she holds out.

  “Who’s it from?” I ask.

  She looks at the card and then smiles. “Arthur.”

  Something twists at my insides.

  I swallow away the lump in my throat as she brings it to me. “I won’t bother you any further,” she says after an uncomfortable moment of silence.

  “Thank you for bringing them,” I say.

  “Yeah, no problem,” she says, and then she closes the door again.

  The roses lie on my desk, right on top of my make-up, and all I can do is lean back and stare at them as if they came out of a long, dried-out well. I can read the note from afar, saying ‘I’m sorry, Vanessa. I didn’t mean to forget your birthday.’

  Anger boils up inside me, and I do the first thing that comes to mind. I grab the roses and throw them in the garbage. He’ll have to come up with something better than that to make up for what he did. Especially considering he completely forgot to mention it.

  I get up from my chair and put on my coat. Then I put on a big, round hat and some shades, hiding the mark. It’s not perfect, but it’s good enough to get out into the streets without anyone seeing it.

  As I walk out of the building so I can get to my car, fans flock to my side, wanting to take a picture with me and demanding my autograph. Of course, I dish them out everywhere, loving the attention. The bright flashes from the cameras clear my head and blur all the bad thoughts swirling through my mind. I do it for these fans, the ones who adore me and love me like no other. I do it for these short moments of happiness, my time in the spotlight, before I have to return to a gloomy, lonely home.

  Ignorance is bliss.

  CHAPTER 2

  PHOENIX

  Age 8

  “Kapoow! I’m the Phoenix and I’m going to kill you now!” I slam the action figure against the headboard, pretending it’s a giant alien ship coming to destroy the Earth. The hero Phoenix is the only one who can save the day, with his special laser gun firing from his eyes and his super strength, which can even lift the Earth.

  I crawl under the sheets and leave Phoenix up, so he can walk over the edge and lift the sheets to unearth a deadly weapon; the giant human robot he’ll use to destroy the alien ship.

  But then Phoenix is suddenly ripped from my hand.

  “Hey!” I come up from under the sheets and see a boy running away, giggling. “Give that back!” I yell, jumping out of the creaky old bed.

  The boy runs down the immense staircase of the old mansion, skipping stairs along the way, while holding my Phoenix high up in the air as if he’s proud that he stole it. He laughs and says, “Come and get it, stupid!”

  I frown, grinding my teeth, and then run after him. Nobody touches my Phoenix. He’s the only toy I have. The caretakers only give us one toy each. It’s a stupid orphanage rule because there isn’t a lot of money. At least, that’s what they tell us. Sometimes I wish I had more toys to play with, or friends who don’t want to steal everything that belongs to me.

  I rush after him, skipping stairs to catch up. He’s downstairs in the dining hall, trying to hide behind the other kids and use them like a shield.

  “Give it back,” I growl.

  “No, why would I? You don’t deserve it,” he says.

  “It’s my toy. You have your own.”

  “I don’t have enough,” he says, holding Phoenix with both hands, almost tearing off his head.

  “Stop, you’re breaking it!”

  “So what?” He pulls harder. “Are you afraid? Miles is afraihaid, Miles is afraihaid!” He’s chanting now, pissing me off so much that I want to hit him. Everybody starts laughing when they see my angry face.

  “Miles is a loser!” The more he says it, the more the group joins in, and soon it’s all I hear.

  I can’t take it anymore. I want my toy back, and I want them to leave me alone.

  When my patience runs out, I push the kid he’s hiding behind so hard they both tumble on the floor, and then I grab the kid and punch his face repeatedly. The toy drops from his hand as he tries to block the attacks and prevent my fist from coming down, but I’m too quick.

  “Fight, fight, fight!” the kids around us yell.

  I keep punching and kicking, letting all my rage out on him.

  “Stop!” he yells, but I pay no attention to his screams.

  All I can think about is the blood pouring from his nose and the teeth flying around the room.

  “Nobody. Touches. My. Toy,” I growl, hitting him in the face with each syllable.

  “Please! Stop!” he begs, scratching my arms.

  “I hate you!” I scream. “I hate all of you!”

  I punch him so hard that my knuckles hurt, and I see red in front of my eyes
. All I can think about is kicking his ass so hard that he’ll never be able to steal from me again. This is the last time that he’ll taunt me, the last time that he’ll tease me, the last time that anyone will ever try to hurt me again.

  After a few minutes, the caretakers come and drag me away from him before I’m able to grab Phoenix. “What is this? How dare you assault a boy like that!”

  “He stole my toy,” I say, folding my arms while staring at the toy.

  “I don’t care what he did. You put your hands on him. We. Don’t. Punch. People.” She keeps tapping on my nose after each word, as if it’s supposed to impress me.

  But all I can think about is killing the kid lying on the ground, bleeding, pleading for help.

  The caretaker sighs roughly. “Here we go again.”

  The whole room is quietly staring at me as she drags me out the door and up the stairs.

  “You had to do it again, didn’t you? You just couldn’t keep your hands off him.”

  “He keeps bullying me.”

  “What did I just say?” she says, gazing back at me with a look that could kill. “We don’t touch other kids in here, Miles. You should know that by now. I guess it’s time for you to learn that lesson the hard way.”

  She pushes me into my room. “I don’t want to hear any sound coming from here for the next few hours. Got that?”

  I sit down on the bed. “But what about dinner?” I look at the clock, it’s almost six, and my stomach is growling.

  She makes a face. “Bad kids don’t get food.”

  And then she slams the door shut.

  I run to the door, banging on it with my fists. “Wait! You can’t do that! I’m hungry!”

  “Maybe you should try being friends with the kids first. Maybe then you won’t be so hungry,” she muses through the door.

  “They don’t want to be friends with me. None of them do. They only want to tease me.”

  “Maybe it isn’t them. Maybe it’s you,” she sneers. “No wonder your parents left you here.” She clears her throat, and then I hear her clicking heels as she walks down the stairs, leaving me upstairs all by myself.

  My fingers scratch the wood as I sink to the floor. I try to think of happy things, but I come up empty. There’s nothing happy about this place, and I don’t remember a single day when I wasn’t in here.

  Alone in my room, without a toy to play with and only the ticking clock as company, I waste away the hours of the day until I’m left wishing I wasn’t alive at all.

  ***

  A few months later …

  I ran away. I didn’t know what else to do after the kids pushed me down the stairs and the staff didn’t even bat an eye. I have nowhere to go, but I don’t want to go back there. I hate that place and everyone who lives or works there.

  Nobody understands me.

  My finger twirls through the grass and I rip it out of the ground and let it fly away with the wind. It’s so peaceful here in the middle of nowhere near this lonely road. Nothing for a few miles … all the world to myself. Love it.

  This place is quickly turning into my favorite hiding spot. I don’t have to sit somewhere in a cramped, stinky corner to avoid being caught. I can just sit out in the open without anyone seeing me here.

  But then a car suddenly zooms up at the end of the horizon, and I watch it come into view. Placing my hand over my eyes to block out the sun, I try to look inside as it passes by. I don’t see much, apart from two adults in the front… except for one little girl sitting in the back of the car, gazing at me with her bright eyes. She has the face of an angel.

  And then it disappears just as quickly as it came, driving down that lonely road.

  For a moment, I just enjoy the breeze, wondering who those people were and if I’ll ever have parents just like her.

  Oh well, I’ll find out soon enough. Time to get back. They’re probably wrecking the whole place in search of me now. Or they haven’t even noticed I’m gone. Either way, I know they’ll be pissed.

  So, I grab my bike and drive off onto the long and lonely road back to where I came from.

  ***

  An hour later…

  I’m sitting on the couch in the meeting room, waiting for someone to approach me, but all the potential parents give me the stink eye. I guess it’s because of the cuts and bruises on my face from getting in a fight again. I can’t help it; the kids here just won’t stop annoying me. It’s like they enjoy getting all up my back or something.

  The caretaker comes up to me and gives me a side look. “Why aren’t you talking with them?”

  “Well, I can’t just go up to them, can I?” I say.

  “No, but you can at least present yourself a little more … appealing,” she says, clearing her throat. She always does that when she disapproves of me, so I hear it all day long.

  “Try to put a little more effort into this, will you?” she says. “I don’t want you to be stuck here forever.”

  I nod as she walks away to meet other potential parents with a fake smile on her face. What she actually meant was that she wants to get rid of me as quickly as possible because I’m a nuisance to this place, but she’ll never say that to my face. It was bad enough that she actually mentioned my parents to me, even though I don’t remember anything about them.

  I guess that’s life. People just screw you over until you screw them back.

  That’s my motto from now on, anyway.

  With my hands folded on my lap, dangling my legs off the couch, I look at all the other kids talking with their potential parents, wishing someone was interested in me … enough to see past the layers of anger.

  Sometimes, I wish I could be like those other kids. Happy. Normal. But I’m not, and I don’t know why. Every day, all I can think of is how to be smarter than someone else is. How to outwit them. How to win a fight. How to find someone’s weakness and use it to my advantage. I’m always so angry, and I don’t know why.

  Maybe it’s because of who my parents are.

  Or maybe it’s because of what they aren’t.

  Who knows? Nobody can tell, not even me.

  I can tell one thing, though. Even if they don’t pick me now, one day I will make it out this place, and I will show everyone that I am worth it.

  ***

  Present

  The rain pounds down on my head as I push the shovel into the earth and dig deeper. The hole has become quite deep, enough for me to hide my body underground. In this obscure corner, behind the facility, I work to create a hole large enough to fit a few people … and to bring them to the other side of the fence.

  It’s not too much longer now, only a few more weeks. Maybe months. But we’re getting there. It’s only a matter of time, and I have plenty.

  Sweat drips from my forehead as I shovel away while DeLuca is on the lookout. He’s in front to make sure that nobody comes through this narrow gap behind the building. One of the officers has been bribed to keep quiet about our business here. That might be surprising to someone unfamiliar with prison politics, but like anyone else, even guards can be persuaded to turn a blind eye. As long as he doesn’t know what we’re doing and keeps everyone else away, he’ll be paid.

  Not by me, of course. Oh no, if I had any money, which is fucking hard in this place, I still wouldn’t give it to some pigs. No, the company I work for pays him each week to keep his mouth shut and help us out. I suppose it’s because they want to ensure their assets are being taken care of. That and the fact I can’t kill for them while I’m in here is incentive enough for them to want me to break out.

  I’m perfectly fine with that, of course. I’ll abuse any help I can get. Besides, it’s not like they’d leave DeLuca in this hellhole, so they’ve got two inactive people now … that’s no good for business.

  Not that I care. I just want to get the fuck out of this place. I could give two shits about the company. Really, all I care about is the cash they send me after a completed job. I don’t care about any of them,
except for maybe DeLuca … or maybe not. Like I give a fuck.

  I don’t remember ever giving a fuck.

  All I know is using and abusing people to my heart’s content. That’s what I know, that’s what I’m good at, and so I’ll stick to that. Keeps me sane.

  When I’m done for the day, we place the rectangular plank on top of the hole and place the new grass on top, making it look like we recently maintained the yard. It’s a good cover for a place nobody looks at; plus, all the other guards think we’re keeping the yard clean and fresh. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

  I’m working to get the hell out of this place, so I can finally have my revenge. Nobody tries to outwit me, and if they do, I’ll make sure they are punished for it. That woman, Vanessa Starr … she thinks she can beat me at my own game, but she hasn’t seen me at my best yet. She showed her cards, and now it’s time to show mine. When it comes to power, I come out on top. I’ll make sure to pay her a visit when I get out of this place. It’ll be too late before she ever sees me coming.

  CHAPTER 3

  VANESSA

  Age 9

  Running around with the other girls, playing a game of catch, I notice the boy sitting in the grass. He’s in the same spot where he always sits during the break, doing something all by himself. Every time I look at him, I wonder why he doesn’t try to make any friends. Maybe he doesn’t like games. Or maybe he’s afraid. I don’t know.

  None of the other kids wants to come near him. They say his parents didn’t want him and that he’s dangerous because the orphanage he lived in kicked him out. I think it’s all lies because everyone else is afraid. But I’m not.

  Somehow, that one day, I stop playing catch and decide to go over to him. I wonder if he’s really who they say he is. Maybe I’m just interested to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye. I want to give everyone a chance, even if others don’t.