Tacora, Navaura Campbell [good books for high schoolers .TXT] 📗

print button so the pages would print out, she clapped her hands together in anticipation. She couldn't wait to get this part out to the news paper. Students kept coming up to her through out the week asking her when she was going to submit another piece of her short story and telling her that it sent chills down their spine just thinking of what would happen with Devlin Jonathan and Michael. Last week, she'd posted the discovery Devlin had made about Jonathan and Michael and had found evidence that implicated them in the disappearance of several students on campus. Filled with a sly grin, Linda whispered, “now it's your turn.” She went to the printer and collected the page she'd typed up and went to the school librarian, Mrs. Copeland. “Hi Linda.” Mrs. Copeland greeted. She was a heavyset woman, who dressed and looked every inch of a librarian. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a bond and she had dark round eyes, that were full of a willingness to help.

“Hi Mrs. Copeland.”

“I see you finally finished what you were working on?”

Linda gave a bright laugh, giddy. “Yeah, I did.”

Mrs. Copeland's eyebrows raised with curiosity, “Does it by chance have anything to do with that short story you've been posting in the school's paper?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm close to finishing it.”

Mrs. Copeland shook her head, “Are you now?”

“Yes, it won't be long now.”

“Any idea on what you will write next?”

“I really haven't thought that far ahead. I try to keep my ideas compacted until I finish what I'm working on, that way I can have a chance to...” Linda's tone trailed off as she noticed a figure off to the right of the Librarian. Dressed in a dark hoodie, that could be either black or blue. She glanced up at Mrs. Copeland and picked up her sentence, “I try to keep my ideas compacted until I finish one story before moving on to the next.”

“Containing all of that imagination, in one little space? I'm not sure that's too healthy for a writer.”

Linda felt a cool wind on her skin. She turned around, looking for who stood behind her, but there was no one.

“Are you alright dear?” Mrs. Copeland inquired. Linda pulled her bag up on her shoulder, tucking it closer to her, “I'm fine. Mrs. Copeland, I just thought I felt someone behind me. There was a sudden draft of cold air.”

“I tell George to close those windows before he leaves the library at night. I will be sure to write him a note tonight.”

“Ok.” Linda felt a breath on her neck, warm. Turning around quickly, she knocked down a stack of book marks that were on the edge of the counter. There was no one behind her. Her mind went back to the person in the hoodie she'd seen, and in fierce denial, she said that it was impossible for anyone to get into the library and not be seen, especially being that close to Mrs. Copeland. Reaching down, she grabbed the book marks and shuffled them back into a neat pile on Mrs. Copeland's desk. Glancing over at Mrs. Copeland with a smile, she whispered, “I have to go, Mrs. Copeland. I will see you tomorrow at school, ok?” Mrs. Copeland furrowed her brows, “Are you sure you're alright, Linda?”

Linda nodded her head vigorously, “I'm sure, I'll see you tomorrow.” She rushed out of the library.

It was watching, red eyes glistening behind a dark smooth skin, unlike anything seen on earth. As this being scoped out it's prey, it stared at the young girl coming from the school yard. He'd found her this morning while she'd been mounting her bike in the front yard. He'd made himself invisible, careful not to reveal himself. As he stared at her, he could see that she was a collectible in the sense that she radiated a love for the absurd. Her heart flowed with passion for fear, it thrived on fear, not much as his, but deliciously close enough. She also had something in her that was precious to him, something worth keeping above that. Her innocence.

~ ~

“I...I'd like to make a report.” The young girl trembled, while tucking her hair behind her ears. She was so fearful now that her teeth chattered.

The attendant looked up from her desk, with concern etched in her feautures. “What's a matter honey?”

“T-this guy has been chasing me. I don't know...he's been following me.” Linda stuttered, tears streaming down her face. She was so scared. Everywhere she went he was there, even her home. It was bad that she couldn't be at her own home because she was convinced that the man was following her.

“Ok, hold on for a second.” The receptionist stated as she picked up her phone and dialed called someone to take her report.

“I..I think he's in my house, everywhere I go, he's there.” She stated, her heart pounding outside her chest. She knew it was only a matter of time before her own fear consumed her. She hadn't been able to sleep, eat, think about anything other than this man. Her thoughts began to shake her in such a way that others in the precinct were starting to notice. She glanced around wide eyed. Staring at everyone. She wondered if any of them knew? Did they see what she saw? A minute later, a female officer came out from behind the secured doors and she took one glance at Linda's trembling form and seeing that she was at her wits end, the lady put an arm around the young teen.

“Are you alright sweet heart?” She inquired.

“He's coming to get me.” Linda whispered. The female officer led her to the doors that led behind to the examination rooms. After finding a room, the female officer sat her down in one of two chairs and sat in the seat across from her.

“Who's coming to get you?”

“The man...The man who buries women by the beach. I'm next.” Trembling hands went up to her face and Linda wept. This morning as the realization that there was a reason this man was after her, dawned on her, she was filled with despair. She'd never felt so hopeless in her life. She'd always thought that she'd grow up, finish school and become the next Stephen King or something, but she felt a cold fear grip her heart, turning it to ice. She knew now that that would never happen. She would never know what it meant to come into her own, have children, get married, become famous. Anguish at these facts left the tears streaming so hard down her face and her speech was choppy and broken.

“What man sweet heart?” The detective inquired. She had never seen a teen as young as her come in the precinct, the very essence of fear. The girl couldn't have been no more than fourteen or fifteen. Detective Mara Wills was a slender woman of one fifteen in weight and she was a no nonsense detective who had obtained her Criminal Psychiatric Degree at Boston University. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was the trauma this young woman had suffered.

"H..he...is always there. Everywhere I go, he's there and I can't take it." She whispered, crying into her own hands. "I can't take it..." She wrapped her arms around her body, staring at the detective with sleep deprived eyes, her irises red and bags puffing up the pigment around her eyes. The detective reached out and grasped her hand from across the table. "Sweet heart." She whispered in a soothing voice, "You have to calm down, I can't help you if you continue to be hysterical. Ok?"

Linda shook her head, her body continuing to tremble.

"Would you like something to drink, something to warm you up?" The detective whispered.

Linda shook her head no. "I just came here to file a report, that way when something does happen to me, you guys will know who I am and what's going on."

A knock at the door, startled Linda, causing her to jump. She turned to the door and saw a detective coming in with a cup. The cup was sat in front of her. Linda felt the scent of the hot chocolate come up from the bowl and curl around her insides. She grabbed the cup, holding it delicately and sipped a small amount from it. The liquid did offer a little warmth until she thought of the man who'd been stalking her the past week, if she could even call it that.

Detective wills stared at the young lady with soft brown eyes. She removed her hand back and clicked a button on the side of the table. This set the recording of their conversation. "Sweet heart, can you tell me your name and address first?"

Linda cleared her throat, staring her in the eyes, "My name is Linda Washington, I'm fifteen years old and I live at 1326 S. Haven Street, in Trenton Ohio."

"Ok, can you explain to us who is the man you are talking about the one buries the women by the beach?"

"H..he..." A deep breath was exhaled and she spoke so soft her words were barely audible. "He told me that he buries girls by the beach."

"Did he say why he does this?"

"No, but I can say this, when ever I have seen him, I feel so afraid that I can hardly breathe. It's like I have have to remind myself to breathe because that's how scared I become." Goosebumps were starting to form on her arms.

"So do you think he like having you fear him?"

"I do."

"Do you know his name, Linda?"

"No. I am not even sure if he's real or not. Sometimes I feel like it is my imagination."

Wills nodded in sympathy. "I can understand that. You said that he's been following you? When did this start?"

"A week ago. I was in the library, working on an article for the school news paper when I saw him standing a little ways away from the librarian."

Wills perked up, "Did the librarian see him too?"

Linda exhaled and put her hands in her face. She understood now how stupid this story sounded. "No."

"He was in the library but the Librarian didn't see him?"

"No."

Wills cleared her throat, her full lips pursed, doubtful, "You do know it's wrong to lie about things that haven't taken place, don't you?"

Linda shook her head. "I'm not lying. I swear, a guy in a dark blue or black hoodie, is following me."

"So you're not sure what color his clothing are?" Detective Wills inquired.

"I am not sure what the color of the hoodie is."

Wills exhaled, frustrated. She wanted to believe her, but the more she spoke, the stranger she sounded.

Linda reached across the table, fresh tears brimming. "Sweet heart, you have to be truthful about everything ok, that's the only way we can help you."

"I am being truthful. I am not sure of the color of the hoodie because it is that dark. It could be blue or black. The guy has been standing everywhere I stand and every place I go, he's there. Everywhere. I'm trying to get help!" She cried, frustrated. "I don't want to die. I know those girls on t.v., they disappear and their bodies are found days later. I don't want that to happen to me. I've never done anything to hurt anyone. I try my hardest to not lie. I believe in God, I am a good person. I don't deserve to die."

"Who says you're going to die?" Detective Wills wanted to reach out her heart to this girl but knew it was against protocol.

"Nothing needs to be said," Linda stated, pulling her legs closer to her body, into the seat of the chair. "I don't have to be told because I can feel it. He's going to get me, he's coming to get me and when he does, there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Exhaling sharply, Willis spoke. "Sweet heart, have you been watching the