Being Followed

March 1, 2012
By Cassidy Ewers BRONZE, Monticello, Illinois
Cassidy Ewers BRONZE, Monticello, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“So are you guys able to come over tonight?” I ask Ali and Em as we exit the front doors of the Middle School.

“Oh yeah! I can't wait,” replies Ali.

“Yup!” exclaims Em.

“Great! See you guys around six, then.” I wave to my friends and board the bus to go home. Before I ascend the stairs, I get an uneasy feeling of being watched. I look around and see no one staring at me. I continue onto the bus and take my usual seat in the back. I pull out my iPod and start listening to music.

“Hi,” says a freshman whom I've never met before. I quickly pull out my ear buds and look up at her. “Can I sit here? All the other seats are full.”

“Sure thing,” I reply, moving my book bag so she can sit down.

The bus ride seems even longer than it usually is, besides the fact that I'm listening to my favorite song. When the bus finally arrives at my house, I grab my book bag and climb off the bus. I walk over to the mailbox and pull out an electric bill, a coupon book, and a note that says: I'll be watching you. I shrug it off, thinking it’s just a creepy high school student.

“I'm home!” I shout to my parents as I enter through the front door. When I get no response, I look around for a note. Once again, my parents probably had to work over time. I eventually find a little pink sticky note and read it.

We had to go to Warrensburg to see grandma. Be back in a couple of days.
-Mom and Dad

I sigh, hoping my grandma is okay. I start on my history homework. Okay, so Roosevelt was president of the United States during the Great Depression. Now onto number two, I say to myself in my head.

Around five o'clock, I call in for our pizza and start setting out 2-liter bottles of soda. Suddenly, the phone rings. I pick it up, thinking it’s either Ali or Em.


“Hey, Shorti,” says a deep voice. Its neither Em nor Ali. And whats even creepier is the fact that only my friends call my 'Shorti'.

“Uh, yeah. This is Shorti. May I ask whose calling?”

No answer.

“Hello? Are you there?”

No answer. I click the off button and shrug. Weird, I think to myself. A knock on the door makes me jump.

I walk over and answer it. Standing on the porch is Ali and Em with book bags swung over their shoulders.

“Hey,” says Em.

“Hi. Come on in. The pizza should be here soon.”

“Cool,” replies Ali. “I brought video games and movies.”

“Okay let’s go up to my room,” I say casually.

They nod and we make our way upstairs to my room. “Let’s wait 'till it gets darker to watch the movies,” I suggest to my friends.

“Yeah. Cause it'll be scarier,” replies Ali, excitedly.

“Hey, you guys can start playing, I'll be right back.” Em and Ali pick up the controllers and begin to play.


“Why did you hang up on me?” It’s the guy who called me earlier.

“Because you didn't answer my question.”

“And what was your question?”

“Well, who are you?”

“I'm just a person. You don't need to know.” Just then the doorbell rings. “What was that?”

“The doorbell.” I hang up again and hurry downstairs to the door. When I open it, there's no one there. Feeling a little scared, I quickly go back upstairs. I reach my bedroom and take a seat in my purple bean bag chair. Ali and Em are finishing their game.

“Want to play Resident Evil: Mercenaries?” asks Ali.

“No. How bout-” another knock at the door. “Oh for goodness sake!” I exclaim.

I almost fly downstairs. When I reach the door, I look out the peep hole. It's the pizza guy. I sigh with relief and open the door.

“Here you go, miss,” he says, handing me the pizza. “And that'll be fifteen dollars and ninety-eight cents, please.” I quickly set the pizza on the table and hand him a twenty dollar bill.

“Keep the change,” I tell him.

“Thanks.” I nod and close the door, making sure I double-bolt it.

“Pizza's here!” I yell. I hear the game stop and Ali and Em walk downstairs.

We finish our pizza and go upstairs to watch our movies.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I hear something crash downstairs. I get up and make my way downstairs, followed by Ali and Em.

“Hold on,” I say, motioning for them to stop. I hurry into the kitchen and grab a meat tenderizer, frying pan, and a steak knife. I head back to the staircase and hand the knife and pan to the girls.

We walk around the house, searching for any intruders. We search different parts of the house so if anyone is breaking in, we could catch them. As I walked into the den, I got an eerie feeling, as if someone was watching me.

Kaily Elizabeth, it's just your imagination. You've only watched too many horror movies, I tell myself. Suddenly the lights flicker on.

“Hello, Shorti,” says a voice. A really creepy one at that. I turn around and see a man dressed in all black. He was also wearing a ski mask, so I couldn't see his face.

“How did you get in here?”

“You forgot the lock the bathroom window,” he replies with a matter-of-fact tone to his voice.

How could I be so stupid? I thought I had locked everything and I forgot to lock the bathroom window? What the heck is wrong with me?

Without warning, the intruder falls to the ground. Ali stands there with her pan raised above her head.


“You're lucky I was here!” I hug her quickly then we make a run for it to the front door. Em joins us only seconds later.

Running across the yard in the dark gives me another eerie feeling. I shrug it off and keep running. Soon we reach a payphone only a quarter of a mile down the road. I pick up the phone-but-the wires have been cut.

“Great! Now what do we do?” asks Em, aggravated.

“Well you probably won’t get too far.” It’s the man again.

“What do you want from us?” shouts Ali. We start inching away from the payphone, only to be followed closely by the man, who is getting closer and closer.

“Run!” I whisper to the girls. We bolt down the road with 'him' close behind us.

We finally lose him and arrive at the police station. The police find the guy about a mile away with a bullet wound to the leg.

“Any idea who shot him?” I ask.

“Nope. But all I can say is that you girls were lucky. When we find the guy who shot him, we'll have you talk to them.”

“Okay,” sighs Em.

“When you do find them, tell them 'thanks',” I say. The police man nods with a smile.

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