He’s there.

Always watching, always listening, always there. I see him lurking around the corner of the cafe, as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong.

He knows who I am; Megan Alana Fitzpatrick, 34 years old. I know he knows, because he’s sent me letters. Or slipped them under my door in an instance of trespassing in my yard, and up to my home. The house that is, or was, my safe haven. Now it’s a place that I hesitate to go to alone, and even when my sisters are with me I am never 100% comfortable there.

Not anymore.

How unnerving it is to have someone like him coming around uninvited. I’ve gone to the police, only to find out he is the police. He’s doing some investigating on a case around my town, there was a robbery next door, a girl was missing; there was always an excuse for why he was nearby, but I knew better. He was there for me, but I had no idea who he was, or anything about him for that matter.

Even after talking to the police I was no closer to finding out his name. They said that because he hadn’t directly confronted me and I am unable to prove he left the letter, they can’t give out his information. I don’t put much faith in the system that has let me down so many times before, especially when it comes down to a “he said she said” scenario.

As I hurried away from the cafe I could feel his eyes on me. They were the type of eyes that when they were on you, you could feel the intentions of the owner. And these weren’t good intentions. I could see him walk out after me and I did what I could to vary my path, but it wasn’t working. I could hear his steps and see his shadow.

“Megan.” He called out. I didn’t look back. To know my name when I don’t know his, for his position with the police force to outweigh my voice as a woman, all of it was flooding my mind.

I could hear him speeding up, so I doubled my pace. He repeated my name over and over, as if it was supposed to comfort me.

“Please stop, I have to go.” I yelled behind me. I ended up on an empty street, which was the opposite of my intention.

“Awe come on,” I could hear him gaining on me.

“Just. Stop.” I felt his hand on my arm.

I slowly turned to see his dark eyes glaring down at me. He was at least a foot taller than me, and his intimidation tactics were working.

“I don’t know you, I didn’t do anything wrong.” I plead. “I don’t even know who you are.”

He raised his hand as if to shield his eyes from the sun, but there was no sun to be seen. It was then that I noticed the glare of something shiny in his hand; a knife.

“It’s Graham.” He whispered, as he raised the knife a little higher. “My name is Graham.”

I felt the knife enter my chest, but the power behind his strike pushed me to the ground. I could hear him whispering to me:

“It’s okay Megan, it’ll be over soon.” He was stroking my hair, touching my face, saying my name.

I wanted to pull those words out of his mouth, each letter of my name, one at a time. He didn’t deserve to know my name, let alone speak it. I felt myself losing consciousness, and the people on nearby streets who heard the commotion were starting to get closer to us.

I didn’t know if I was going to make it, but I knew I wouldn’t let him get the last words.

As the coward started to run, I finally said his name.

“Graham.”’

He looked back.

“You’ll see me everytime you close your eyes. You know me, but now I know you, too.”

As I slipped into the darkness, I thought about the power behind a name. For the last few weeks all I wanted was to find out who this cowardly bastard was. Now I know. I know his name, burt more than that, I know what he’s capable of.

And I wish I didn’t.

I watched as she walked toward the train. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. People had left more times than they’ve stayed, but this feeling was new. This feeling was real.

As I think back on what had transpired over the last 24 hours, I cringed. Never before had the entire universe aligned so unfortunately well, I’m sure it was some kind of record. But this one wasn’t for the books, because heartbreak and raw emotion are not crowd pleasers. When Bee told me she was leaving, it felt like my insides were being twisted into a thousand knots. My hands went cold, my heart raced, and I felt light headed for the first time in my life. We hadn’t known each other long, but she knew me better than anyone else. And I knew her.

I knew the way her hair curled as it dried after a shower; the way the dimple on her upper thigh felt as I caressed her legs; the way she moaned when she felt so good she couldn’t contain herself. And now she’s gone.

I knew that her ex had done real damage, and her trust in me was not something that came easily. She knew that she was my first real relationship, and that the men I mistakenly dated before her were part of the reason it was hard for me to give in to our love. But it was real love, and when I gave in, I gave in hard.

Bee was everything, and nothing. She was the highest expectation and yet completely satisfied with our effortless togetherness. When our pasts collided like waves in a hurricane, there was nothing left but a wreckage and my broken heart. I didn’t expect him to show up that night, and I didn’t expect to be saying the wrong thing as she came into the room. His hand on my back, a joke as she passed. It was too much to think about, especially as I watched her yellow jacket disappear in the crowd.

I’d wait for her here forever; longingly waiting to see that yellow jacket make it’s way back to me. My Beautiful Bee.

But I knew better than to expect her to come back, because that went against her very being. Her artsy, fluid side made her a free spirit, but her stubbornness and past trauma made her a spit fire. When she made a decision, she stuck to it. And when she decided I wasn’t finished with my ex-fiancé Mark, she decided she was finished with me. I wish I could have explained myself better when she saw him touching me, but I froze and brought up stuff from her past that pushed her further away. I could see the moment it was over. Her eyes changed, and I could tell I had lost her. I thought that was the worst thing I’d experienced, but that paled in comparison to the words we’d said when we got home, and paler still to when she got on that train.

It’s over. I’ve never been one for goodbyes, but this didn’t even feel real. We were so happy, so content in our lives that I never thought it was possible for things to end. Yet here we are, ending them. And I’m saying goodbye to my Beautiful Bee.

We’re still waiting But so far it’s been fruitless Your own guilty conscience Makes a terrible witness

To do what you’ve done And make no restitution Is the act of a coward Not a good hearted person

And when you awaken In a rough, cold, damp sweat Think of my face, her face Your face, And regret

Make good with yourself And maybe Him too, But me, I still see Just a man with no clue

Being the oldest isn’t easy. I didn’t have these kids, why am I the one taking care of them? I didn’t ask for this, and I am certainly not getting paid for it. Pfft, I can’t imagine my parents paying anyone, let alone me. I’m just Anna. Anna who will do anything that’s asked of her; Anna that will quietly do what she’s told when she’s told, without making a fuss.

That stops today.

If they want to go out and drink, let them. I’m not staying here to miss out on my high school glory days with my rugrat siblings.

“Hey Aunt June, can you come watch the kids for me? I have to meet up with Sarah to finish a biology project.”

“Sure thing sweets, I’ll be there in fifteen.” Click.

YES! One night to get out. One night to be young. I start getting ready to meet Sarah, my friend from school. She’s got the best parents. They let her go out, and they even let her have her first drink at a dinner party they hosted. Sometimes I wished I lived with her, instead of Alan and Maxine, the alcoholics who created three kids they didn’t want anything to do with.

I heard our aunt come in as I was pulling a hoodie over my tight tank top…there’s a lot to think of when you’re trying to trick someone, especially when you’ve never done it before. I stuck lip gloss and short shorts in my bag, said hi and bye to aunt June, and headed to Sarah’s.

As I got closer to her house, I could tell that the party was happening there. I thought we would be going into town, but apparently the back field at Sarah’s was good enough for a bunch of tipsy teens.

“Anna!!” Sarah screeched. “I’m so glad you’re here!” I could smell beer on her breath as she gave me a hug and it made me gag. Beer was the liquor of choice for my parents, and I learned quickly enough that it didn’t always end well when beer was involved.

“I brought you a drink, it’s just a bud light,”

“No thanks, I’ve got something.” I pulled a joint out of my bag and lit it, while Sarah stared at me. We hadn’t hung out much outside of class, so I’m sure she wasn’t expecting to see me smoking weed.

“I do it all the time, don’t worry about it.” I reassured her. I held it toward her, but she leaned back, obviously uncomfortable with the offer. “I don’t do that.” She muttered.

I shrugged and we walked toward the bonfire behind her house. There were about 15 people there. I recognized them from school but I didn’t really know them. I guess that was about to change.

Within minutes my joint was being passed around, and so was a bottle of vodka. It mayo have been the weed, or the friends, but I found myself curious and taking a gulp out of the bottle. It stung as it went down, but it made my head warm and fuzzy. Those weren’t feelings I was used to. Maybe I was finally experiencing what every other high school girl does. Maybe this was the beginning of my story.

————————————-

Something was tickling my foot. And my hand. I felt cool grass on my hand, and I wiggled my toes to feel something furry down there.

“AH!” As I looked up I saw that it was just Hannah’s dog, Ash. “Hi buddy, what are you doing out here?”

As I started to sit up I felt pounding in my head, and noticed the dryness in my mouth. Here’s to all kinds of firsts, I guess. I squinted in the morning sun, trying to get my bearings. There was Sarah’s house, and I could see the remnants of the bonfire a few feet away. Just then I realized Sarah was across from me on the grass.

“Hey! What the hell happened last night?” I yelled. She didn’t budge. I crawled over to her to shake her arm, and that’s when I saw the blood. Not just a few drops. A lot of blood.

I flipped her over to her back saw her lifeless eyes. There was blood all over her head and the side of her face. Her arm was strewn above her head and her hand lay motionless in the dewy grass.

“Help, please someone help!”