Stalker HS

Stalker.

A/N: Okay okay, listen I know. This isn't a new chapter for the end part of the book. But this IS an entirely NEW prologue chapter for this book. This is what I've been working desperately hard on for months you guys, SO LONG. I've been trying to fix all of the plot holes Lacey threw TF all over the place. I've been trying to really buckle down and pick out every mistake we missed writing this before! Please enjoy, Pheobe... In highschool. :)

Rain poured over our city harder than ever. My mom cranked up her windshield wipers to the fastest speed they could go. Yet they fail to produce a clear field of view, as it was still a little hard to see through the rapidly falling water droplets. Each droplet was thick and thumped onto the metal and glass of the car. I was resting my head on the passenger window when I saw my destination, a large brick building in the distance. For a moment I close my eyes to try and process my growing anxiety.

I hated school. It's not the learning so much as... The people. So. So. Many. People. It felt like I was being scrutinized by every angle. How can anybody feel comfortable surrounded by large sums of judgemental teenagers? I don't understand who thought this was a good idea.

Angrily, I glare at the students and the building as the vehicle I was in rolled closer and closer. They moved on, my rage filled stare goes unnoticed, and I sigh. Despite my hatred for the place, here I was in the student drop off loop. I tell my mom bye and get out of her old car, slamming the rickety door to ensure it closes. She doesn't respond, per usual and simply drives off to her job. It's not like I'd have heard her through the roaring rain storm from outside the car anyways. I try counting to ten, but at some point I jumble up the numbers and try counting again.

"Today is already turning into a bad one." I whisper to myself as I march toward the prison like building.

A crowd of students filtered through the small double doorway opening in the front of the building along with me. I squeeze my hands into fists as I squeeze through the doorway. The other water soaked kids trying to get into the entrance around me completely pop my bubble of personal space. There was no time to waist, though, so I try not to focus on them and more on escaping the rain.

Once fully inside, I try not to dramatically throw myself on the floor in protest and drag myself toward my locker. I did not want to be here. Had I not skipped so much earlier this semester, I would be home alone right now. Probably not wearing pants. Most definitely not wet from the rain. A girl could only dream, really. Reluctantly I open my locker and pile in my wet jacket and backpack. Then I grab a stack of things for my first few periods before slamming the locker door back closed. Dread filled me up as I started my way toward my first class.

I was hoping my friends hadn't skipped today. Trying to survive the day already so anxious and having no friends would not end well. If I start freaking out, I've decided I'll sneak out and leave school early. I couldn't do it, not today. All I have to do is survive a few periods. If I'm still alright by then, then I figure I'd stay.

I make it to my first class and try to look busy at my desk. I pull out homework and some notebooks while I wait for the class to start. If I keep my focus on something, nobody will bother me. Hopefully. Trying to calm and distract myself, I start writing a poem in the margin of a notebook page. Focusing on the rhythm of the poem and rhyming words helped me stop paying attention to my surroundings. I hum quietly to myself while I try to create a pattern in my head to say the words to.

Time flies by as I pay little attention to the class. I fail to notice my teacher begin a lecture and continue writing little poems across my notebook page. About halfway through the class I begin to feel like I was being watched, though. I feel uncomfortable and glance up at the class, thinking the teacher caught me not paying attention. But she droned on in the front of the class, pointing out things she'd prewritten on the board. Continuing her lesson plan as normal. My eyes traveled the room for an explanation, hoping it was just me realizing a lot of time had passed. I wasn't paying attention at all before and maybe I need to hear this lesson? But I spot him. His eyes lingered on me until they met mine. It lasted for half a second before he started looking around. As if he never was staring at all, so I question if it had been him. I'm mostly convinced, though.