Young Writers Society

Chosen

The club is packed with people and everyone is having a great time. The vibe has an energetic atmosphere, just the way I like it.

"Melanie! Over here!" Chad waves his hand to get my attention. Out of all the men in my life he is my favorite. The way he takes care of me when I am drunk as ****, the way he holds me. Something Heather would never understand. Love the girl but ***** she is such a prude. I trot over to him.

"I'm glad you found me. This line is crazy!" He looks at me with those light brown puppy dog eyes. I can see right through them, just like all the other guys. We show our I. D’s to the bouncer and walk into the dark building with dim lighting. Neon lights illuminate the dance floor. Chad is already at the bar ordering our drinks. Another perk, he knows exactly what I like. He hands me mine, jolly rancher, and we sit at a table with everyone else. I have no clue that I am being watched.

After hours of drinking and dancing, I make my way to the restroom for the third time. Everything is blurry but I manage to get there and do my business without falling on my face. I am proud. I wash my hands and start doing touch-ups to my perfectly tanned face and blonde hair that frames my bright green eyes. I am fixing my short tight black dress when the other stall door opens and a tall man with dark hair and stunning blue eyes walks out.

"Hey, I know the place is packed, but you need to go into the men’s bathroom." My voice is slurred but my words came out the way they were supposed to. He does not reply. He just stands there looking at me.

Suddenly, my mind clears and I feel uneasy. He closes the gap in a blink of an eye and grabs my hair, holding me still. There is a pain in my neck and then it is gone. He leans close to my ear.

"Follow me and act like we are friends." He lets me go and instantly my body becomes robotic. I feel nothing. My mind goes blank and I have no control over myself. We exit the restroom and then we exit the club. He opens a black car door and waits. I get in and wait. He gets in the driver’s seat and takes off. I look out the window to get an idea of where we are going. He drives us out of the city and into the woods. A tear drop lands on my hand as my body shakes in fear.

The car stops and he is at my door in two seconds. I get out, crossing my arms over my chest. It is cold and I have no clue where we are.

"Where are we?" My voice is barely there. His eyes start to change from blue to yellow.

"Shut up! I didn't tell you to speak." He walks towards me, slow. Like he is stalking his prey. In a split second, I feel a sharp pain in my chest and my vision blurs. I feel him holding me, he is so close to my face I can feel his breath. "She'll be better off without you." Then I feel nothing. Death engulfs me.

~~~~

Rain clouds cover the sun, casting the world into darkness. The cold wind rips through my jacket as I exit a small grocery store, exposing my cream-colored skin to the bitter touch of winter. I shiver and pull my jacket tighter around myself, trotting down the slick sidewalk to my apartment complex, Dido blaring in my headphones and eating chips out of a bag that I had bought from the grocery store. I had forgotten to buy enough groceries this week and had run out of money, but finding a couple of dollars in my old jacket encouraged me to head to the convenience store two blocks from my home for some food. A gun shot is heard from a distant place, but not distant enough, making me jog a little faster. I crumple the empty chip bag and toss it in the middle of the street. A police man standing nearby doesn't even care. He is more worried about gangs and shootings than littering.

My apartment building looms in front of me, the moldy brick complex seems more inviting than usual. I let out a small sigh of relief once safely inside the building. I hear footsteps behind me; hopefully it is not one of the gangs that calls my apartment building their "territory." I duck my head, thankful that my dark brown hair is hidden under a hat, I might be able to pass as a teenage boy from the back. The steps quicken and I sense someone is watching me. With a nervous intake of breath, I start running for the door to my apartment. With shaking fingers, I grab the handle and fumble with the keys around my neck and, breaking the string, put the key in the lock and quickly unlocking it. I push the door open and burst inside, slamming it shut behind me. After relocking the door, I lean back against it and let out a long breath, my heart racing. That is the third time this week it sounded like someone was following me. I glance around my musty home, reassuring myself everything is safe. I move over to the worn and sagging green couch and flop down, flipping on my small television. The news comes on but I am too tired to change the channel.

The plastic-looking female newscaster is talking; a picture of Seattle Washington buildings appears behind her. I turn the volume up, blinking sluggishly. "...and in other news, the crime rate has soared in the past few weeks. More murders and sexual crimes have taken place than ever seen before here in Seattle. Local officials are doing what they can, but they have not been able to track down the perpetrators. Officials advise locking all doors and windows and staying in your home unless need requires otherwise..." I flip the channel, the sound of afternoon cartoons blares in my ears as I doze. I am sick of the same news. I do not want to hear about that stuff, especially after what just happened. That event replays in my head, my mind trying to convince itself that no one had been following me.

The phone rings and I nearly jump out of my seat. None of my friends are home this week, it being spring break, and I do not have family; I cannot possibly guess who it could be. Maybe Mark, my boss at work at a small bakery down town, is calling to ask why I did not show up for work today. I turn down the volume on the T.V. and pick up the receiver, cradling it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Heather?" says an unfamiliar female voice.

"Yeah." I wrinkle my brow as I try to figure out who she is.

"This is...a friend." The voice falters, and then shushes someone in the background.

"And my friend's name would be..." I ask with suspicion.

"It doesn't matter. Listen to me very closely. You'll get a phone call soon inviting you to a party. Do not go. Please trust me." She is suddenly very quiet. "I have to go. Listen to me. Don't even answer the phone!" I hear the click of her hanging up, then the steady tone of a disconnected line.

I frown. Nutcase. What was all that about? The strangers' words had carried an eerie intensity. I shake my head. Probably my best friend, Melanie, playing a practical joke. I turn the volume up on the T.V. again and allow myself to succumb to the mind numbing of children's television. I am almost asleep when the phone rings again. I eye it distrustfully, remembering the stranger's words. I laugh. I am so gullible. Of course, the voice had sounded like Melanie; it had to be her. I pick up the phone, casually greeting the caller. "Ello."

"Hello, Heather." A silky male voice greets me, almost seductive.

"Hello... Who is this?" I get a strange chill.

"I'm one of... Melanie's friends. She's over at my house. We're having a party tonight and she wanted me to invite you." Something about his voice makes me want to believe him.

"Well..." I consider his invitation. "Wait, why doesn't she ask me herself?" I narrow my eyes at the phone. This is too much like the prank call from earlier. I do not like it.

"She's getting ready for the party, and forgot to tell you, so she asked me to call you while she's busy." He is quick with an answer.

"Well, I got a call earlier telling me not to go to the party. What do you think about that?" I say, testing the waters.

He laughs. "That was Melanie. She was trying to play a joke."

I think about it. All of what he is saying makes sense. Melanie plays jokes like that on me all the time and it would be so her to have one of her friends do her dirty work for her so she can focus on herself. "Where's the party? And what's your name?" I am going to give her a piece of my mind when I see her.

He gives me the directions and then pauses. "My name is... Ethan." His voice takes a hopeful tone. "So, I'll see you at the party?"

I smile, trusting him. He knows my name, he knows Melanie and how she is. It had to be one of her many guy friends. Poor guy is being bossed around by a witch, I have been in his shoes. "Sure, Ethan. See ya there." I hang up the phone, my insides flutter with excitement. I have not been to a party in forever. Somewhere deep inside me a little piece of doubt nibbles at me. I dismiss the feeling as nerves.

That evening, I look in the mirror at myself. I hope the party clothes I picked out are going to be good enough for this place. My black and dark pink mid-thigh skirt is loose around my legs, cut at a bias. A matching pink halter top clings to me tightly and accentuates my ample cleavage without making me look like a prostitute. A pair of simple black heels adorn my feet. I pause and stare at my face, softly touching the mirror. To me, my freckles stand out horribly on my face and that is all I can focus on. However, someone else might notice my glistening amber hair that falls into soft ringlets to the middle of my back, my heart stopping hazel eyes, or my slightly tanned skin. My freckles only accentuate my features, my I cannot see that. I sigh and step away from the mirror, putting on the last few touches of my makeup before swinging my purse over my shoulder and moving to the door. I swallow and close my eyes, trying to convince myself that no one will bother me. I give up and put on a calf length black jacket, hoping that no passing stranger will notice my figure and try to take advantage.

I tuck the loose edges of the jacket around myself and step outside, trying not to step in the puddles surrounding my building. I stick to the well-lit areas of the street. I spot a taxi and call for it. It pulls up into a puddle, the water barely missing my feet, next to the curb. I get in and inform the driver of my destination.

"9410 S Leroy Pl?" The driver nods and drives, while I settle into the musty seats, I set my purse in the seat next to me and glance out the window. Being so late at night, there is not very many people outside, and other then the street lamps it is dark. Glancing at the sky, I stare at the star filled moonless night thinking about it resembled my life; empty and boring except for the days Melanie and I went to the mall for something she wanted, or the clubs so that she could have and excuse to flirt with her guy friends. Both of which were excuses for me to get out of my apartment.

The cab driver pulls up to the curb of a huge two story off white house with a big grassy yard filled with flower bushes and trees. Loud music sounds from inside and the place is well lit. Obviously, there really was a party. I smile as I walk quickly, anxious to be inside. I knock on the door and hear someone inside yell to get it. It opens, showing me a humongous and gorgeous house filled with a sea of people my age and older dancing and drinking. A petite girl with a nervous smile welcomes me inside.

"Hi. You a friend of Ethan?" She asks, avoiding my gaze.

"Well, he invited me." I give her a strange look and take off my coat. She is sure acting weird. I give her a half smile. "Is my friend Melanie around?" I ask, glancing across the sea of people.

"I don't know. Check the kitchen." The girl looks away at a guy who stands impatiently, obviously waiting for her. I shiver. He does not look very nice. I turn away. It is her decision whom she hangs out with.

I push through the crowd, heading for the apparent source of the alcohol. Entering the kitchen, I side step drunk teenagers spilling beer all over the floor and glance around. I do not see Melanie. A nervous tingle races down my spine. She has got to be around here somewhere. I push my way back out of the spacious kitchen. When I get the middle of the living room I stop, the music blaring in my ears, bodies gyrating around me. My chest starts to feel tight and my breathing fast. I am getting a headache and I cannot find Melanie. Maybe I should leave. A hand taps my shoulder.

I turn around and find myself staring up into the most beautiful face I have ever seen, framed by slightly curly, shaggy black hair. I blink, entranced by the male’s intense blue eyes. He says something and I shake myself out of my reverie.

"What?" I shout, pointing to my ears. "I can't hear over the music!"

He leans intimately close and speaks, his breath tickling my ear. "I said, are you Heather?" His voice sounds oddly familiar.

I nod, furrowing my brow. He speaks into my ear again. "Come with me. You're looking for Melanie, right?" I repeat the nod and follow him through the crowd, anxious to find Melanie.

I can't help staring at the stranger's back. He has broad shoulders and I can see his taut muscles through his black button-up shirt. He wears a pair of loose black pants and a pair of black skater shoes. Maybe he just likes black. A smirk crosses my face and I let my mind wander, thinking about how long it has been since I have been with someone. Not realizing he had stopped walking, I almost run into him. I am outside. I must have been too lost in staring at him to notice when I left the house! The yard is dimly lit, the only light coming from the house, but I realize I am in the back yard. Alone.

"Umm... Where's Melanie?" I ask, glancing around. What the hell? This is getting creepy.

He turns. "She had to leave, I guess. Sorry." He glances at me, raising a brow. "Does this mean you are going to leave too?"

I hesitate. "I think so. I only came because she...invited..." I falter, suddenly realizing why his voice is familiar. He was the one on the phone. "Ethan?" I ask, bluntly.

"Yeah. Recognize my voice?" He smiles, but it seems menacing.

I back up slightly. "Yes. I... I'd better be going." I look down at my shoes and instantly wish I had not worn them. It would be easier to run without them.

He takes my shoulder in a strong grip. "No, I don't think so."

I try to get out of his grip but his strength out beats mine by a million miles. "Let me go!" I demand, digging my heels in and pulling with all my might. He lets go and I fall to the ground, wincing as my tail bone hits hard. I groan and start to get up. Ethan knocks me back down, immediately on top of me, pinning my arms to the ground with his knees. I stare at him with wide fear-filled eyes.

"Let me go...or...or...I'll scream!" I say, my voice shaking. I should have listened to that stranger and stayed home!

He grins. "Go ahead."

I let out an ear-piercing scream, but no one inside cane hear me over the music. I scream again and again, but no one comes.

"Now, my turn." He leans forward and covers my mouth with his hand. I try to scream again, but it can hardly be heard. I give way to whimpers as he takes something out of his pocket, shakes it and shows it to me. It is a hypodermic needle! "Now, lie still or this will hurt." He laughs. "What the hell, it'll hurt anyway!"

I kick in desperation, trying to get him off me, but it does no good. He smiles again and holds my head steady. My eyes gape and I let out more whimpers. He slowly presses the needle to my neck, his face transforming in cruel delight. My heart races and I try my hardest to get away from the sharp point. He plunges it into my neck, chuckling as I scream through his hand. Icy fire enters my veins, and for a moment I struggle harder. The pain fades and everything turns black. The last thing I sense is Ethan running his finger along my lips while whispering one word.

"Soon..."