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The man with the shaggy hair part 1
Oh god. Will he ever stop? How long can one person chase another? I’m not going to be able to keep running for much longer. Think Scarlett think. A hideout. That’s what I need. An ally? No, he will find me. A friends house? No, I can’t put anyone els in danger. I look to my left and it hits me. An abandon house. There’s one right around the corner. So I push myself harder knowing he isn’t far behind. The man that is chasing me is tall and has light brown shaggy hair. Kind of beach bum-ish. His face…his face is unforgettable. His unshaven beard looks scratchy on his pale face. His deep brown eyes are mesmerizing but intimidating. His nose seems to protrude off his face looking pointier than a nose should be. He has a long scar above his left eyebrow. I have only seen this man once before at the cemetery. I saw him while I was visiting my mother’s grave. As I turn the corner I see the house. Dark blue and dead grass. The roof is falling apart but it’s irrelevant to me because I just need somewhere to hide. I open the rusted gate and run to the door. Damn. The door is bolted shut. There has to be a window busted open or something. I run around back and find an open window. I climb in and hide in the bedroom closet. It felt like years before he came to the house when in reality it was only five minutes. He looked in the kitchen first throwing things around and breaking things. I can hear him grab a knife from the drawer and walk into the room I am in. My heart is pounding so hard against my chest I felt like my ribs are going to break. I’m shocked that he can’t hear it because it’s screaming in my ears. Ugh my leg is going numb from squatting. Should risk standing up? I have to or ill fall. I start to stand up and hit my head doing so. I know he heard that. Okay I need weapon of some sort. I feel around the shelf and my fingers trace over something cold. Scissors. Yes. I close my eyes and reach for the closet door and push. When I open my eyes I’m in my room and my alarm clock s screaming and flashing that it’s seven o-clock. I hold my hands out in front of me and im shaking. I can feel sweat dripping down my face.
“It was only I dream.” I tell myself out loud.
“Scarlett! We are going to be late for your mother’s party! Get up NOW!” my father yells through my door.
My mother was my best friend and a month ago, she was murdered. Today is her birthday and we are meeting the rest of my family at her grave. The FBI still has no leads on the man that killed her. She was on vacation In Italy. Once she landed she called me to let me know she would be home in an hour. I was on the phone when she was killed. We were talking about how dad made dinner three times in the month she was gone. One minute I can hear her beautiful high-pitched laugh…the next minute I hear her high pitched scream and a gun shot. The man that killed her mugged her and then shot her. The bullet was a clean shot in her forehead. In through the front, out through the back.
“mom!” I yell not wanting to accept what I had just heard “oh god! Mom please!”
“your mother is a little lightheaded right now. She wanted to lay down.” Says a deep, mocking man’s voice. I can hear him laughing. The laugh I know I will have in my head for the rest of my life. I hang up and call the cops and tell them what happened. A month has passed since my mother’s death.
“SCARLETT ROSE MISTGRAM! GET OUT OF BED, NOW!” my father demands
“Okay okay don’t have a heart attack. I’ll be ready in ten minutes!” I yell back.
I throw my covers off and climb out of bed. I stand in front or the mirror and examine the mess I have to fix. S***. What a dream. Who was that man? I know that I saw him once before in the cemetery. But why is he in my dream? Why do I feel like I’m connected to him? My reflection is a horrible sight. Due to my bizarre dream last night, I’m now running on three hours of sleep. I throw on a purple knee length dress and some sandals. Drag a comb through my hair and put on the least amount of makeup possible and walk downstairs. When I get downstairs I see my dad outside in the car. I examine my house and all I see is my mom. The brown couches we have had for close to all my 16 years living, sit on opposite sides of the room, coffee table in the middle. The television, considerably small, sits on the back wall across from the table. My mom thought it made our house look “cozy.” We all used to laugh at her for that.
“scarlett! Come on! Were late!” my dad calls from the truck, honking.
I grab my purse and run out the door. I am forced to get in the back seat because my brother Dean is in the front. Dean is the kind of brother who is over protective at times but good to have around because he always supports you. He is two years older than I am and is a senior in high school. I am a jouiner and an honor student. Dean on the other hand, is a trouble maker…a fighter. He has been suspended twice already and we have been in school for two and a half months. But this last month has been exceptionally bad. Last week his friend Mario called me to pick him up from a party. When I got there he was laying on the curb with a bat in his hand. His friend told me he got in a fight with a guy from school over some football game and the other guy pulled out a bat. Dean had no sense of judgment to start with because he was s*** faced drunk. I had no idea how I was getting him in the car. He was passed out. I called over some of his stoner buddies and they helped me lift him into my car. When he gained conciseness he explained to me that his friend Mario took his keys so he couldn’t drive home. The next day my friend Lorie called me and told me how the fight really happened. Apparently, Dean and mike were playing beer pong and got into a verbal argument because mike was hitting on Maria at school. Of course Dean is going to get defensive. Both boys’ went outside and mike said something about our mom and Dean just blew up. He went after mike and mike pulled a bat out of his truck. Dean took the bat and, in Lorie’s words, f***ed Mike up. My poor dad doesn’t know what to do with him. My mom was the one who disciplined us. Discipline intimidated my dad.
“Scarlett?” Dean said, sounding annoyed.
“I said your name like seven hundred times.” He pleaded
“Oh, uhh sorry. I was lost in thought.” I said.
“Oh, okay. Well where did you put my cell phone?”
“I didn’t touch it. I saw it on the kitchen counter when I was in there. I thought you grabbed it. You must have forgotten it.” I answered.
My dad pulled of to the side and slammed on the breaks. I put my hands out in front of me to keep from head butting the back of Dean’s seat.
“What?!” my dad snapped.
“Turn around! I need my phone!” he begged.
“Dean. You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought I was going to hit a cow.” He replied.
“A cow dad? In L.A?” I asked sarcastically.
“It was a metaphor.” He said, not sure if he used the right word. He didn’t. “now Dean, why do you need your phone?”
“Maria is going to call me. i have to answer!” he cryed
“Dude, calm down.” I said from the back seat.
“But I haven’t talked to her in a month! Ughhh!”
“You can call her when we get home.” My dad argued. “Or ask Scarlett if you can borrow hers.”
“Yeah, sure chuck.” Dean said, full of a teenage girl’s attitude.
“HEY! Do not use my first name. It’s dad to you mister.” He snapped.
“Mhhhmm. Whatever you say.” He murmured.
“Hey Dean?” I said
“What do you want?” he replied.
“You know, you’re worse than a ten year old girl.”
“Shut up Scarlett. Just shut up.”
My dad laughed under his breath but we both heard. I laughed with him and Dean crossed his arms and turned to face the window. Dean’s girlfriend Maria has been in Arizona for the last month and Dean is dying to see her. She is coming home tomarow and she promised him she would call today when she landed. So leaving his phone at home is a tragedy for him. I reached in my pocket and pull out my cell phone. I flip it open and I see I have a text. It’s from Lorie.
Hey. We still on for tonight?
I text back:
Yeah I’ll call you when I am done here. Dean is having a b**** fit and needs my phone. Talk to you later.
I push send. Ten seconds later it vibrates. It reads:
Haha. Typical Dean. Alright I will talk to you later. Bye
I close the phone and toss it over the seat onto his lap.
“Thanks.” He says, smiling
“No problem” I answer.
The rest of the drive was quite. When we got to the cemetery I know there is a long walk to my mother’s grave. Her headstone is at the very end in the last row. My entire family is here and I know that people will be crying. I hate crying in public. Well in front of people period. The only person I have ever cried in front of was my mom. It’s still hard to believe she is actually gone. Not seeing her every day is hard on me. She was such a major aspect in my everyday life. All my friends loved her. We all miss her. Lorie has been my best friend since the seventh grade. She is helping me through this and I can’t thank her enough. She keeps me sane. Tonight, she is taking me to see a movie to get my mind off things.
“Hi hunny. How are you holding up?” My aunt asks, worried
“I’m okay. I just can’t believe she is really gone. She would have been forty-two today. She would want us to be dancing to YMCA right now.”I say
My aunt and I laugh and go to thank everyone for coming. As I walk back to my dad’s truck, I feel like I’m being watched. The same feeling I got the last time I came to my mother’s grave. The same feeling I got the last time I saw that man. The farther I walk the more I feel uneasy. I start to pick up my pace when someone grabs my wrist. I turn around to the face of the man in my dream.
“Scarlett.” The man says with the same voice as the man in my dream. “I have been waiting to see you again. How are you?”
“Who are you?” I ask, stuttering.
“We can discuss that later. But first I want to show you something. Come around the corner with me.”
“Hell no creep! Get your hands off of me!” I yell, running the other way.
He reaches after me but I turn the other way and sprint for the truck. All of the sudden I run into what felt like a tree.
“Scarlett? What the hell are you doing?” Dean says, catching me before I fall.
“I…there…he…Dean I’m scared.” I tell him
“Scar what is going on?”
I think about it for a minute and do I really want to tell him? He will only tell dad and knowing my dad, cops will get involved. But I need to tell someone…don’t i?
“Scarlett, talk to me. What’s wrong? You’re as pale as a ghost.” He says, impatient.
“Oh, uhh nothing. I just had a weird feeling that someone was watching me. You know, those weird eerie feelings people get in cemeteries. No big deal. I was just over reacting.” I answer
“You sure?” he asks, not convinced. My brother knows me better than anyone. He knows when I’m lying. And he knows I’m lying now. But I know him just as well and if I say nothing is wrong, he won’t pry.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I say
“Okay. If you want to talk I can call Lorie for you.” Dean says, teasing me,
“Ha-ha , very funny dean.” I say, hitting his arm. We both laugh and lock arms and practically skip back to the truck. I look back to my mother’s grave to see that same man standing over her grave, cigarette in his hand and a smirk on his face.