Daydreamer Page 2

  “But—”

  She was cut off by Officer Clef. He and Officer David were headed our way.

  “We can continue now, if you’d just follow me?” Officer Clef asked. I shook my head hastily and shoved his jacket back at him.

  “If we’re done here, I have an appointment to get to?” I probed, already getting in the car before they could utter a response.

  “We’ll, uh, call you if we have any further questions.” Officer David chimed in before the sound of burning rubber could take over.

  Chapter 3

  I can’t begin to explain what the note meant to Chelsea because . . . I barely understood it myself. This goes hand in hand with not being able to tell someone what happens after death if you’ve never died.

  “How did he even know you were going to tell Clef about the site anyways?” She asked. “Maybe he’s got a bug on you, or in your purse. Maybe he’s been inside your apartment!” She pushed.

  “Well, Chelsea. Thanks for the image of someone like that feeling all over my stuff. Look, I can only tell you bit by bit because that’s how I’m finding things out myself. Put it to rest already, okay?” I grew frustrated. As much as I wanted to answer every question she had, I couldn’t. I felt helpless. Like someone was dangling a toy in front of me and my hands were tied.

  Chelsea dropped me off and I went inside. I felt itchy all over. I felt there was nowhere safe to go but home. Yet, “home” is where it all started. Eight months ago, I started saving to move out of this place and into a new apartment. I’m only halfway to my goal, but it felt like a lifetime. It doesn’t help me much when I dig into the money for food and rent.

  Being home with the strange feeling of a deranged stranger having been all over my stuff, made me wish I could just wash my clothes in any body of water I could find. I took a basket of clothes down to the basement while attempting to juggle detergent at the same time. I couldn’t help but look at everyone I passed on the way down and jump at every closing door.

  When I finally got downstairs, all washers and dryers were taken. This was exactly what I needed to top my day off. I sit on the floor by the entrance, seeing what needed to be washed and what I could get to another day.

  My conclusion is that everything needed to be washed. I began to wonder if I could leave my basket here and come back later. I sat them in a corner and on my way out, I saw a sign that said: Please Don’t Leave Clothes Unattended.

  I slowly walked back to my clothes and decided to just go upstairs with everything. I’d try again tomorrow.

  ……………………………………………………………………………..

  I sat on my couch and powered on my laptop. I wanted to go to the site that started everything, though the idea sounded misguided.

  Still, I found myself typing in the web address despite my initial thoughts.

  Tiger09: Let’s get to know each other, friend.

  Katarina: Friend? Wow, your straightforward, aren’t you?

  Tiger09: I’m very eager to meet new friends.

  Katarina: I guess I am too, in a way.

  Tiger09: Want to have coffee or something sometime?

  Katarina: I would love that.

  Tiger09: Whoa, I want to make sure I’m not making a deal with the devil. I want to see where you live. I read somewhere that someone’s living space defines their personality.

  Katarina: I guess I’m trashy then :D . . . The same goes for you, I want to see your apartment.

  Tiger09: I don’t live in an apartment.

  Katarina: House?

  5 minutes later

  Katarina: Shack or Mansion?

  Katarina: Let’s do this sometime next week?

  Tiger09: How about Tomorrow?

  Katarina: Soon . . .don’t you think? Don’t you want to have some time to message and get to know me before we decide to meet each other in person?”

  Tiger09: I know you well enough, Katarina.

  Katarina: You don’t know me at all.

  *This user is offline. Try again later*

  Now that I think of it, he didn’t wear the hood when he came over the next day. He was your typical westside story lover boy. He had slicked back blonde hair, paired with a leather jacket. He smiled an awful lot; I remember thinking that much.

  I clicked on his profile picture, staring at the cat that sat in his place. I began to recall the day he left my house. We didn’t go and get coffee like we planned. Instead, he got called home for a “family emergency”. Later that night is when everything went down.

  I jump at the sound of sudden banging at my door. I looked through the peep hole and didn’t see anyone, so I open it.

  I was surprised to see a kid. He had a few pieces of mail in his hand, waving it as close as he could to my face.

  “My mom said they keep putting your mail in her box, and that she knows you use her apartment number. She wants you to stop because you aren’t friends, and you have cops over all the time.”

  “I’ve only had cops here twice; the second time wasn’t my fault. And I’ve only used her address like three times. I won’t do it again.” I said, directing that towards both the boy and his mother, who I saw peeking from around the hall.

  I take my mail and wave at the lady, calling out how bad she was at being stealth. When I close the door behind me, I noticed just how fast my heart was beating. I feared the idea of someone knocking at my door. I need to get out more, or I need another job.

  ………………………………………………………………………………..

  Chelsea and I talked sooner than I wanted to. I called because she works at her father’s restaurant. I think she got a promotion a few weeks ago, but I don’t remember what her new position was.

  “I’m a manager. I can basically hire whoever I want.” She gloated. I didn’t know if that was true due to my low work experience, but I sensed a bit of exaggeration.

  “Then let me start tomorrow!” I pleaded.

  “Whoa there! You need to train to be a waitress first. It’s just one class, for about thirty to forty minutes long, and then after that you can work under supervision.” Still, I didn’t know if that was true. I just believed everything she said; despite how many countless times she tricked me into a class.

  Chelsea clicked over to call her dad. She’d been cooking at work with him for as long as she can remember. It must be nice to have a dad that shows so much love for her. My dad drank his days away, watching sports. I used to think he forgot he even had a family. My mom would get him pretty much everything he needed. She even used to tell me to go easy on him because he was sick. I didn’t understand then, but she meant he had an addiction. He’d been “sick” for years.

  Chelsea told me that I could start tomorrow. Just like Mr. Mason to try and pull some strings for me. He was always the father I wish I had.

  I went to sit on my couch, turning on the TV as I kicked my feet up. I scrolled through the menu and couldn’t find anything I haven’t seen already. I spend way too much time behind the flat screen and not in oh . . . I don’t know, a bed.

  I grabbed my laptop and returned to the site that shall not be named. This time around, Tiger09 was online, and he requested to video chat. While my laptop was ringing, I freaked out. Looking around to see if anyone was watching me even though, I knew I was alone. Maybe if I answered, I could ask him ‘why did he do it?’.

  I pressed answer. As soon as it connected, the first thing I saw was his smile. He didn’t have on a hood, he just looked . . . normal.

  “Hey Katarina, long time no see.” He opens.

  “Really?” I said, trying to decipher what to say next. “I could have sworn we’d recently seen each other.” I hinted.

  He looked royally confused. “No,” He said slowly, shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure we haven’t. I’ve given this site a break. My dad passed away a few months ago and it’s been hard on me and my family.” He confessed. My face went from accusing, to feeling
sorry for this sick lying man.

  “How is your mom now? Is she okay?” I asked. He looked around his room, much like I did a few minutes ago. He scooted closer to his laptop and whispered.

  “She puts on an act, but I know how she really feels. Probably almost worse than I feel, since she was married to the man.” He runs his hand through his blonde hair and looks up at the camera. His eyes grew glassy, but my face remained still as stone.

  I decided to bait him in with the story of how my sister was murdered, right in front of me. I just wanted to see the way he’d react. When I told him, he seemed genuinely sorry but quickly had to go. I let him go, I didn’t press the issue any further, but his hasty log out was a bit suspicious.

  It’s not a bone in my body that doesn’t think he did it. He fits the profile of the person who left the first note. My sights were set on him and soon, I planned to fire. I just needed to be in position.

  Chapter 4

  The next day, I had to start my training and Chelsea’s dad was the supervisor. He told us exactly what to do and exactly how to do it. We had to walk with pride and serve with a smile.

  He put three cookbooks on top of our heads, and we had to walk around the room with a tray of books simultaneously. I can’t speak for the other girls, but I was bent out of shape. I’m surprised I lasted the first five minutes.

  Before I knew it, my books were tumbling from my head. One hit the tray and knocked the whole thing out of my hand. It made a loud noise, given we were in a big, empty room.

  I looked around, to see if anyone had noticed, and sure enough, everyone had noticed.

  “I, I tripped. I think I hurt my . . . ankle. May I take a five-minute break?” I asked Mr. Mason. I didn’t mean to lie to him. He nodded, but I saw the disappointment in his eyes. He’s known me since I was seven. He’d set me too high on a pedestal and I fell off it.

  I went to sit by the window, and as soon as it happened it was over. I saw a fleeting figure for about three seconds and then he was gone. It was black, like a shadow. I jumped up and stuck my head further out of the window, scanning the area. There was no one there. It was almost like I imagined it.

  When I turned around, everyone was staring at me. I flashed a nervous smile and turned to walk out of the room.

  “I need some air.” I swallowed. He nodded once more, and I left. I went outside to the same spot where I saw . . . whoever I saw.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” I spoke softly, but loud enough for them to hear me. The sound of rustling in the bushes followed my calls. I slowly walk over to the bush I thought moved. I scanned the bushes, but I didn’t see anything, so I spoke again. Next thing I knew, someone is sprinting from the bush behind me, taking off faster than the wind.

  I took off after him, but I wasn’t nearly as fast. This sudden spark of bravado was going to get me killed.

  “Hey!” I yelled, as I ran furiously. He turned the corner and by the time I got there, he was already in his car. He had on a hood, just like our two latest encounters. We made eye contact through his windshield, staring at each other for a split second before he decided to floor it, almost hitting me with the car. I quickly moved out of the way, groping for my phone. I took a picture of his license plate, but it was partial. That shouldn’t be a problem.

  I went back to class before anyone grew suspicious. I was a bit on edge, but just because I couldn’t wait until it was over. I was going to go and tell Officer David and Clef everything, and then I would top the cake with this photo.

  When it was over, I sat in Chelsea’s car waiting on her shift to be over. When she came out, I sat up in my seat.

  “Where to next?” She asked.

  “Uh, home, I had a rough day and would rather be in bed hiding.” I said. She laughed and nodded.

  “Dad said you can start working tomorrow.” She squealed.

  “I didn’t think I was going to make it out of there alive, no less with a job.” I said, hiding the double meaning behind it. Now that ‘Tiger09’ knows where I work now, what’s going to stop him from showing up again?

  Chelsea dropped me off at home, and as soon as I saw her car turn the corner, I jumped into mine.

  I got down to the police station faster than I’d left last time. I walked up to the secretary and demanded to speak with Officer Clef, since he’s the one who handled my last meeting.

  He walked from around the corner and smiled. “I thought you’d never come back, or call for that matter,” He said, walking me to his cubicle.

  “Yeah well, I had something to say last time. And this time not only am I going to tell you, but I also have a lead.” I said, getting straight to business.

  “You know when you asked me if I’d put my real name online? Well I have. On this site, that isn’t a so called “dating” site, but it’s a site where you meet people.” I said all in one breathe. My phone rang but I ignored it, trying to finish my story before anything else.

  He nods and gestures for me to log onto the site on his laptop. I complied while continuing to speak at the same time.

  “I think this guy might be the person who left me that package. We don’t have a violent history, but one day I gave him my address and that night . . . that’s when . . . um.” I struggled. I didn’t know how to tell him that he had to re-open the case on my sister, because I lied.

  “I think that night he broke into my house intending to kill me . . . but instead he killed my sister.” I looked up at him to see his expression. He remained calm but did take this opportunity to write something down. After that I showed him the messages exchanged between me and ‘Tiger09’.

  “Oh, and earlier I was at a restaurant trying to get a job. I saw him outside the window. Well, not him, the man had on a hood, but I know that it was the same person who left the box; the same person in these messages.” I pointed at the screen again, accusingly.

  My phone rang again, and when I looked at the Caller ID, it was Chelsea. I didn’t answer it. I had to finish this. I didn’t need another interruption.

  He scanned the screen, reading everything carefully and then re-read.

  “You said you had a lead, where is it?” He said, not convinced by the conversation on the screen. I showed him the picture and he tried to zoom in and squint, but he couldn’t make anything out of it.

  “Send this to my e-mail and we’ll have someone try and decipher this. Do you know his real name?” He asked.

  “One day we were video chatting and I think I heard someone yell Travis, but he didn’t answer, so I’m not sure if they were calling for him.” I confessed.

  It was strange. I didn’t know his name, yet I texted this man. I didn’t know his name, yet I invited him into my home. I didn’t know his name, but I made myself so vulnerable and easy to mess with. I felt dumb, I felt like the people I always hated in movies.

  “So, you think this man killed your sister, and now, months later, is stalking you? Is that what you’re saying?” He asked, sounding skeptical.

  “Since I’ve seen him outside of the restaurant, I’m going to say . . . yes. One time, he even followed me to the police station. I think he was the one who tripped the alarm. He left me a note on Chelsea’s windshield when I went outside. He asked me, ‘why did I want to go to the police’ he said, ‘he thought we were friends’. I took that as a warning and shut my mouth. I thought it was going to stop, but it hasn’t.” I had to catch my breath. I felt like I’d been talking for hours, plus, he was just staring at me like I was crazy.

  I grew irritable. “You know what, just do what you want with those messages and I’ll e-mail this picture to you. How about this time, you call me if you have anything?” I said snatching my purse and storming out. He tried to stop me from leaving, but I shut the door behind myself and left out of the nearest exit.

  When I got to my car, I sat in the driveway for a while, trying to send this picture to Officer Clef. My phone rang again; it was Chelsea, so I answered it this time.

  “Yes?”
I asked. All I heard was vague coughing over the phone. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I immediately pressed on the gas. I didn’t care if I was overreacting; I had the right to, after what has happened.

  “Chelsea? Talk to me, I’m on my way. What’s wrong?” I kept trying to get her to say something, but she just coughed. It sounded like she was in pain. Why call me instead of the police? Maybe it was something I could have handled before it got too bad, but I didn’t answer . . . until it was too late.

  “Kate?” I heard her cry. Hearing her weep made me regret asking her to talk. My eyes grew glassy as I drove faster. I wanted to hang up and call the police, but I couldn’t just leave her alone like that.

  “Chelsea, I’m on my way.” I whimpered.

  When I got to her house, it was up in flames. I morph into a sprint, running into the house not even thinking about myself. I just ran into a burning house, for the only family I had left and that was that.

  “Chelsea!” I screamed. I tried to keep calm, but it only slowed me down. I checked everywhere. I saw flames bursting from the kitchen, so I checked there. Chelsea was on the floor, unconscious. I took the phone out of Chelsea’s hand and called the police. The dispatcher answered almost immediately.

  “We need help, it’s my friend, Chelsea Mason. We’re at her house.” I pleaded. They were trying to talk to me, to get me to try and tell them more, but I dropped the phone as someone came up behind me and grabbed me by my neck. They wouldn’t release me, keeping their hold firm. I grabbed their arms by instinct, trying to pry them away. I attempted to speak, but my throat wouldn’t allow it. My vision grew glassy.

  “Not yet, Katarina. Your end will come, but not today.” He whispered into my ear, releasing me. I fell to the ground and stared up at a fleeting figure in a black hood, paired with a gas mask. I tried to catch my breath, but that was hard in a house full of smoke.

  My eyes rolled to the back of my head and before I knew it, it was the dark.

  Chapter 5