The Stalker
Sarah pulled a brush through her long, golden hair and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She trotted down into the kitchen and walked over to the coffee machine. The maid, Ms. Parker, had turned it on and an alluring aroma filled the air. A shopping list for her father, written in Ms. Parker's snug handwriting, was taped to her coffee mug. She glanced apprehensively at her Timex and grabbed a travel mug from below the sink. The logo strewn across the side read "Le Chateau Department Stores" This was the chain of luxurious, classy, department stores owned by her father, Mr. Dalby. Sarah filled the mug with the Hawaiian blend coffee, dropped the list into her pack and sauntered out the double oak doors.
The snow pelted the windshield of Sarah's silvery-blue mustang convertible as she pulled into the parking lot of the Le Chateau. Most wealthy people are known to have expensive, BMW's, but Sarah had wanted a sleek, trendy, fast car, that people noticed. Those three words were the best words ever to describe Sarah herself. Long, shiny, sleek, golden hair, enormous, sparkling, blue eyes, china-doll skin, and a perfect figure, with trendy clothes to show it off. She was definitely not the girl left unnoticed in the crowd.
Sarah cut the purring motor and opened her door, with a click of her car alarm she made a mad dash toward the doors of the warm, brightly lit store. Business men and women hustled past her and a few well-to-do, elderly sat in elegant, over-stuffed, armchairs, in front of a huge stone fireplace. She pushed the sleeves of her fall colored, angora, sweater up and bounced over to them. Her father always liked her to stop and say "Hello" to the usual costumers. She was quite the hit among the older ones.
"Why Sarah! How nice to see you again!" A small woman cried. She was dripping in jewels and way over-dressed. Sarah almost rolled her eyes as she counted all the fashion laws this woman was breaking, but caught herself in time to give her a sweet, innocent smile. A few others delighted in examining her freshly manicured nails and then she excused herself and trotted down the mall toward the elevators.
The elevator box was lined with red velvet to about waist level and then turned into a polished, black mirror with chandelier type lights above. As the machine launched smoothly into action, Sarah made a mental note to have her father change trite music playing from the golden speaker above. The doors opened with a swish and she peered down the dimly lit corridor. It was early and not many people even worked on the top floor. Her father's office was at the very end. She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the thick, blood-red carpet. Sarah was startled as the doors whisked close behind her, but kept calm.
As first she walked slowly, but her mind played horrible tricks on her and she broke into a frightened run. The large plants at every door came alive and stretched for her ankles and shadows leapt from their resting places to place clammy fingers around her neck. She neared her daddy's office and her sweaty fingers clutched the cold, silver knob. It wouldn't open. She heaved herself against it, her pulse racing and then with an accidental flick of her wrist it flung open, sending her sprawling across the floor.
"Sarah, for gosh sakes what's gotten into you!" Her father gasped, clutching his chest in over dramatics.
"Sorry daddy, but that hall is so dark and creepy, you know I can't stand that."
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, we'll have to talk to the matenince man about getting some more lights up here."
Sarah nodded, beginning to recover her breathing. She flopped down in a huge leather armchair and pulled the shopping list from her back pack.
"This is from Leslie . . . I mean Ms. Parker," Her father gave her a sharp look at using the maids' first name, very bad etiquette, " She wants you to pick this stuff up before you come home for lunch." He nodded and tucked the paper into his wallet.
"So what time are you kids leaving for the cabin?" He asked resting his chin in his hands.
"Well, I'm set on leaving before lunch, but Nancy's shift at the cosmetic counter doesn't end till 12:30." She gave her father a meaningful look.
"I think I can do something about that. Say 11:30?"
"That would be fantastic. Thanks so much daddy." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead before heading out the door, but remembering her mental note stopped and looking over her shoulder said, "Oh and daddy, change that elevator music, K. It sucks."
He laughed, "What am I to do with a trendsetter for a daughter?"
"Listen to me, if you want to have a store beyond the usual." She answered before shutting the door behind her. The corridor was still dark, but the end was flooded with light and the radio could be heard over the soft clicking of computer keys. Daddy's secretary, Mrs. Malone, had arrived and gave Sarah a cheery smile as she scooted by, she didn't have time to chat all day.
The doors slid open, barely disturbing the air around them. Sarah stepped in and she felt the familiar light headedness as it descended.
"Hello, Sarah. Did you miss me?" A voice hissed over the elevator speaker.
Sarah stood bolt upright and stared wildly around the box. She suddenly began to feel claustrophobic.
"Leave me alone!" She screamed, her blood barreled down her veins. "This can't be happening," She thought, "No way. He's in jail, far away from me and my dead mom. Far, far away." The elevator came to an abrupt stop knocking her to her knees.
"Please, go away." She whispered, beginning to cry.
"But Sarah, I can't. You can't just leave when your job is unfinished. I have to finish it. That's the kind of person I am, don't you see." His voice seemed so calm and pleased, pleased to see her cry.
The elevator started again and Sarah clutched the railing. The box went faster and faster, until she thought she would be smashed between the roof and gravity. "It's going to crash and I am going to die." She realized with horror. Then abruptly it stopped and she collapsed to the ground in a flood of sobs. She was suddenly aware of the quietness settling over the elevator box.
"Hello?" She whispered, "Are you still there, you unimaginable jerk?" The air was silent. Then she heard the click of a tape and Celine Dion came on over the speaker. "So," she thought, "Dad did remember to change that music."
The elevator doors slid open and a well-dressed man regarded her with worry.
"Are you okay Miss?" He picked up her backpack and helped her up.
"I'm fine, really." She tried to pull of an embarrassed laugh as she took her pack, but her shaky voice wouldn't talk right.
"Maybe you should go to the hospital, you look awfully pale."
"No, I'm fine, maybe coming down with the flu or something."
He shrugged, "Okay then, bye Miss . . . " He looked at her awkwardly.
"Dalby, Sarah Dalby." She answered, before turning and walking out into the Christmas music and bustling shoppers. It got so busy around here at Christmas. Then, there was his face. Set in a cold, cruel smile. His toque pulled low over his eyes and a big, navy blue parker zipped up. As he set his eyes upon Sarah, his smile became bigger and he began to walk, swiftly, toward her. Sarah's head began to reel and she tottered for a moment before catching herself. She closed her eyes and when she opened them he was gone.
Then warm fingers wrapped themselves around her neck. "Hello, Sarah." A masked voice whispered.
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