Lure To The Woods

IV

I woke up with Heather's stupid pedicured feet in my face, making me gag. I pushed them out of my face, sending her flying to the floor with a thud. She glared up at me, about to cuss me out, when I raised my finger to my lips. She had to stay quiet, in case Mum was still home. I doubt she would be, since she usually started work pretty early, but I didn't really feel like being yelled at by Heather first thing in the morning.

"Do you want any breakfast?" I yawned, helping her back up.

"You got any bud?"She asked hopefully, making me bark a laugh.

"For breakfast? It doesn't count as one of your five a day. Anyway, my dealer left for Uni, studying horticulture."

"At least he found his passion. Toast, please."

"Right. You know where the bathroom is and if you're going to steal one of my shirts, take an old one for gods sake." I instructed, slipping out of my room.

We had spent yesterday chatting and playing video games. She had calmed me down, told me to just move on because it was probably one of our idiot friends playing a prank. What kind of stalker leaves a hand written note at the scene of the crime? We had a plan to ask everyone at lunch today.

It didn't stop me from feeling gloomy today. Thanks to Heather's tossing and turning, I went without sleep pretty much all of last night. I'd been in and out fo sleep for the last hour, but Heather's foot in my face was the last straw. I had spent most of last night staring at the paint flakes on my ceiling again, thinking about anything and everything.

As much as Heather tried to convince me otherwise, at the back of my mind I knew it wasn't a practical joke. Whenever I touched the note, it sent weird chills through me. At first, I thought it was fear, but after hours of holding it and reading it over and over I had scratched that emotion out.

I knew I should be scared to death of this note, but it felt genuine. Personal. Sincere. I don't know. I just don't think it's malicious, but it's also not joking. Maybe I was reading far too deeply into a post it note because of sleep deprivation, or maybe I was right.

I whipped out my phone, calling Heather.

"Mum's not home, feel free to come downstairs when you're done." I let her know, before hanging up.

I popped some bread into the toaster and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I flicked the plastic kettle and plopped two tea bags in mugs, waiting for it to boil. The house had a lot of windows, but I didn't feel like I was being watched anymore. They had kept to their promise and left me alone.

By the time I had finished my cereal, made toast and finished my tea, Heather plodded down the stairs with wet hair. I gave her the toast and tea, heading upstairs for my turn to get ready. I skipped the shower, too worn out for one, and brushed my hair instead. I sprayed some deodorant and pulled on a clean shirt, picking up my jacket.

I grabbed my school bag, jogging back downstairs. Heather didn't have any of her stuff, but usually she just told the teacher that she had home problems and they let her off. They were used to it by now, since she had arguments with her mum a lot.

"Ready to get going?" I asked, shrugging on my jacket.

"Didn't you wear those jeans yesterday?" She wrinkled her nose, joining my side.

"Didn't you wear that entire outfit- minus the shirt- yesterday?" I wrinkled my nose back, poking her side teasingly.

"Shut it." She grinned, following me out of the house, "Besides, I carry clean underwear in my bag at all times."

I stifled a laugh at that. We held hands, walking down the street towards school. It was very far, like I said nothing really is in this town, but it took a while with how slowly Heather walks. She was talking to me, but I wasn't really listening, something about her skater boyfriend. I still didn't even know his name. She'd told me, but I'm bad with names.