A ring sounded at the door, and I quickly sprang up to open it. Leslie stepped in, and then threw her arms around my neck, her bag falling to the floor. We giggled, and sprinted up the stairs to my room. Already the latest chick-flick reality TV show was on; the big cursive letters on the screen a bright cherry. We didn’t waste time digging into the popcorn.
The Crimson Diaries was a show about a young teenage girl named Rosette getting stuck between a werewolf and a vampire, and being a prophet of a legendary fable who was said to break the curse on vampires so they would be able to walk in daylight. She lived on werewolf territory, and the vampires would have to break the treaty they had set a hundred years ago to use her for their own desires. But the werewolf leader wouldn’t let them, and the vampire’s, Vince’s, brothers killed him, so now the werewolf, Daniel, is the new alpha. And then both Vince and Daniel have to team up to stop the vampire coven from taking her away, even though they hate each other. Within the first fifteen minutes, Leslie and I were in deep dispute.
“No, he should ship her off to Canada where they can’t find her,” I argued.
“But what if they follow him? She would be screwed then. It’s not like she can do anything to them biting her neck off.” She explained.
“They’re not going to bite her neck off. They need her for the prophecy, remember? If they bite her neck off she would be dead and they would have to wait another thousand years.”
“Whatever. She should still be with Daniel. He’s way better for her.”
“You just like his abs.”
“You just like Vince’s ‘priorities’. You’re always a sucker for possessive.”
“‘Protective’. I mean, who wouldn’t want someone in shining armor come to rescue you?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in fairytales.” She smirked.
“I don’t.” I snapped. She threw a piece of popcorn at me, to be deflected by my pillow. It quickly turned into a match on who can knock the other off the bed. I won.
We fell asleep sprawled across the covers, the TV still flickering commercials. When we woke up, I could hear the shower running, meaning my dad was already awake. We discovered that my kitten I got for my eighteenth birthday had placed itself directly under our legs, and when we moved, we squealed when a loud dawned out siren sounded from under the blankets. Once it began moving, we yelped and jumped out of the bed. Only after it poked its snow white head out did we burst out laughing.
The smell of coffee and pancakes drifted to us in the living room. When we walked in, flat golden brown flakes were stacked high on two separate plates, and tall glasses of orange juice sat next to them. Mom was standing over the sink, scrubbing furiously at a stubborn pot.
“Its okay mom, I’ll do it.” I said.
“No, no, I got this one.” She smiled serenely, though I could see she was getting impatient. Leslie was already plowing in, but I sighed and took the pot from her. She sighed too, and whispered under her breath before hustling into the living room. I polished the pot feverishly.
“So, where do you want to go first?” Leslie asked from the table.
“I don’t know, maybe Beverly’s Wardrobe.” I said. This weekend was our monthly shopping spree, where every month we spent an entire weekend spending every penny we could find on the street on anything in the stores. Every time we went to the photo booth outside the mall afterwards, and took a picture wearing our favorite pick. It became a tradition in the fifth grade.
Leslie moaned. “Then we can go crocheting and give the kids down the street cookies.”
“Oh, come on. They’re not that bad.” I said. Leslie sighed and I rolled my eyes at her. “So where do you want to go?” I knew that was what she wanted to here. Her eyes lit up. “What about Lil’ Lily’s?” She said.
“That’s fine. I like their sweaters.” Leslie clapped excitedly, not noticing my fake smile. I sat down next to her, and stuffed my face with pancakes. When we finished, we walked upstairs, discussing what to get.
We showered separately. Leslie and I were like sisters, but we weren’t the kind of girls that think it’s perfectly normal to shower together. We would get dressed in the same room, sure, but there was no ‘places you can’t reach’ there.
Leslie walked out of the bathroom, drying herself off. I quickly felt the need to cover up, but felt stupid for it. Leslie was what you call the ‘head cheerleader’ and otherwise known as the most favored by guys. And there was a reason for it; she was good-looking. She had snow white hair that fell perfect every time. Her eyes were an ice lightning blue, and her skin was always just right; light tan in the summer, ivory in the winter. She was taller than most girls, and could walk down a mountain in heels. The most dangerous part though was that she used all of it, down to the last pinch of glitter.
I was her backdrop. I wouldn’t consider myself ugly, more like cute, but average. I am medium height, and I have light skin tone, year round. My hair is dark, almost as wet bark. My eyes are hazel, though are more green than gold. I don’t wear a lot of makeup; mostly just mascara when I’m not rushing. Some curves, but not all. Standing next to Leslie, I could have as well been a postage stamp.
Leslie didn’t waste time shifting through my closet, every now and then muttering something about bad taste. Eventually she came to the conclusion of me wearing a dark purple tube shirt with white shorties and sandals.
We quickly got dressed, me tying my hair up, and Leslie forcefully applying extra framework to my face. We jumped into Leslie’s red bug and began the long drive to Lil’ Lily’s.
Lil’ Lily’s was the last spot you would find me. It was where everyone went; full of flashy t-shirts, underwear-like shorts, and prices that would last me five minutes. Its theme was fruity, and the workers always pointed out the most expensive items. It was not in my league.
Leslie began trying on clothes, all of which looked faultless. I wandered next to the graphic tees, admiring one of which that had a picture of a giraffe with glasses on. When I showed Leslie, she shook her head.
I was making my way to the purses when I noticed something. I glanced out the window. I haven’t noticed it before, but whenever I turned a corner, it was there. His back was turned, and I could see gold curls coming out of his hat. I could just barely make out his jawline, where it was set determinedly, like he was waiting for something. As soon as I looked at him, something set itself off in me. It was subtle, but I felt it navigate towards him. As soon as I figured it out, I knew it was warning me.
I hastily found Leslie. She turned when I came, about to say something, when she stopped and stared. “What?” I said, a little thrown off.
“Nothing-nothing,” she stuttered. “Its just- your eyes.” I sighed and dismissed her comment. “Leslie, I think we’re being followed. There’s this guy that keeps being wherever I look-“
“Ooh, you got an admirer.” She smiled teasingly. I glared and whispered urgently, “Leslie, I’m serious. I think he’s been following us the whole time.”
She scoffed at me. “You’re so paranoid. I guess spending so much time with me finally rubbed off on you. But if it means so much, we’ll go. I just have to get this first.” She held up a scarf and bustled over to the counter.
I waited in the car. I searched for him, but he was out of sight. Maybe I really am paranoid, maybe he was just waiting for his girlfriend. He looks like the kind of guy to have one.
Leslie walked out of the store, a pink paper bag in hand. We drove around until we finally did end up in Beverly’s Wardrobe. Leslie stalked around the store, glaring at knits hanging in the isles. “Okay, you pick next.” I said, pitying her misery. She sighed heavily, and followed me around in the shop.
I picked out two tops and a brass locket. Leslie argued about getting it, but something about the intricate swirls lured me. We were walking out of the store when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. As soon as I saw it, I went into a dead sprint.
“Lorelei! Lore, wait! Where are you going? Lore!” Leslie ran behind, and jumped in the car after me. When I was positive the doors where locked, I explained in a panicked voice. “I saw him again. He’s right there! Les, he’s following us!” I pointed at him, who was covered half way by the corner. She followed my finger and said, “Oh, he’s cute.”
“Leslie!”
“What? You won’t admit it. Plus, it’s probably someone that just looks like him. I doubt he really is a stalker. He can have me anytime.” She smiled at her own joke. I turned and studied him again. It wasn’t like wearing hats in the summertime is rare.
“Ok, your said my choice. Donnie Dot it is.” Leslie grinned.
The next half hour I spent in hyper-active mode. Was that him over there? No, he wasn’t wearing green. Who was that? Oh, just a manikin. I tried my best to focus on the clothes, but it was taking a toll. Leslie picked out two sweaters and three pairs of pants for me, and two high heels for her. As the day went on, I felt my muscles relax. But I still felt like I was being watched, that little feeling inside me leading me around in circles. I got to the point of ignoring it. I was moving through more shorts when I saw a plaid hat. It was white and brown, with two little initials on the back. DM. When I looked to see who was wearing it, it was all I could not to scream.
I dashed to Leslie, and almost shrieked in her ear when I said, “He’s here! He’s here! Oh my god, Leslie, HE’S HERE!”
She glanced around frantically at the other customers who were looking at us, and when I pointed at the back of his head, her face contorted in horror. “Lore, I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you. I thought it was just from the TV show- we gotta go.” She grabbed my hand and dropped what she was looking at. We sped home.
That night we spent with every possible door locked, window shut, and lights on. We whispered hushed secrets and revisited the stalker over and over. Leslie stopped making comments on his looks.
When we fell asleep, the only thing I saw were those initials. I saw them written on the walls, scratched into the tables, and burned into my skin. I saw them drawn into the mirrors with black ink, saw them in the water as it rushed down the drain, and I saw them stitched into the blankets, like everything I touched was owned by him. And I saw my eyes. Not an edge of green was in them. It was all gold.
I woke up to the sound of scratching. I tensed, and peered at the door from under the covers. Slowly, I stood. I twisted the handle, and peeked into the hallway. Baby Bleu was looking up at me, and mewed when I didn’t open it fully right away. I giggled with relief and let her in.
Her white frame wobbled over to the bed, and looked at me with her blue eyes and waited for me to lift her up. She immediately pounced on Leslie’s twitching foot.
“Ow! What the-?”
Leslie twisted around and moaned ‘aww-w’ when she saw Baby Bleu fiercely nibbling on her big toe. I joined in unison, and wished I still had my camera.
The sound of rushing water led us downstairs, where mom was making breakfast. She was reading the back of the pancake mix, squinting at a measuring cup. “It’s okay, mom. I’m making breakfast.”
She sighed again and handed me the box. “How are they expecting people as old as me to read that?” Leslie quickly turned on her charms. “You don’t look more than twenty-five.”
“Oh, you’re underestimating, dear.” But she smiled at the comment.
When she was out of the room, I looked at Leslie. “What?” she said, her tone playfully innocent. I rolled my eyes and pulled out the eggs.
We spent the rest of the day stalker-free, maxing out every credit card we owned. When the sun was setting, we were at the booth. We crammed in, Leslie with the scarf, and me with the locket. It was a blissfully normal day.
When Leslie left with one last hug, I went in my room. I pulled the film out, and taped the new piece to my collection of photos. It was like one big timeline now, all the way from the fifth grade. There was hardly a wall underneath it now.
I studied it. Something was out of place. The curtain wasn’t completely closed. Something… something was there. As I stared at it, and recognition dawned on me; a boy with gold, curly hair.

This time I didn’t stop myself from screaming.


Leslie and I hadn’t seen him since five days ago. I didn’t tell mom and dad, but dad had assumed and given me pepper spray. Leslie bust out laughing when I almost sprayed Josh, our other best friend, in the face when he had grabbed my elbow. I laughed too.
“Your turning into a crazy cat lady.” He said.
“Am not,” I said, trying to breathe. “There’s only BB.”
“That’s what they always say before it becomes unhealthy. Tell me, have you been staring longingly at street cats lately?”
“No.” I said, trying, unsuccessfully, to sound serious.
“Liar.”
“Am not!”
“Then why are you still laughing?”
“Because I almost sprayed you with pepper spay!” I waved the bottle for emphasis. He ducked, and it became a game of who-can-spray-Josh-first. He got away before I got the chance.
In the car, Leslie and I sat in awkward silence. Leslie said, “So… you like Josh?”
“What?” I looked at her, perplexed.
“Well, I’m just saying what I see.”
“No, no. That would be just weird.”
“You looked like you were having a good time.”
“Not like that. We’re just friends.” I said. She sounded annoyed.
She hummed, and pulled up to my driveway. “See you tomorrow.” She said.
“See you.”
I walked up my front steps, thinking: Where did that come from?
We began to believe that life is normal again. The ‘feeling’ slowly faded away, like a bad sunburn. Leslie and I watched the next episode at her house, and then played a prank on her little brother Andrew. It was a simple monster in the toilet, but to be ever scarred in his memory. We ended the night with two fingers, with Andrew tagged along as a promise on not to tell mom.
“Ok Andrew, be still. You can’t move or it won’t work.” She repeated. He nodded, his eyes as big as saucers. We stuck our index and middle finger on both hands under him, and began the chant:
“Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.
Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.”
Slowly, we lifted him up. His mouth was part way open; as if he was watching a ghost eat his PB&J. Leslie and I locked eyes, a secret conversation passing between us. He came up to above our heads, and in agreement, we screamed. Andrew shrieked, fear filing his voice, as we fell to the ground with him still on our fingers. We hooted with laughter as he scrambled to his feet.
“I’m gonna to get mommy.” He said, tears filling his eyes.
“Wait! Wait! We told you not to move. If you hadn’t moved, the ghosts wouldn’t have attacked us,” Leslie said, surprising me with how guiltless she sounded. “And its Lore’s turn. You wouldn’t want to leave Lore out. And plus, the ghosts would be angry if we all don’t do it.” Leslie was the first to go, to test to see if the ghosts would eat her for Andrew’s sake.
He looked at me, unconvinced. “Well, okay. But it’s not my fault if she gets chomped on.”
I laid on the floor, and they took their positions at my sides. I felt their fingers under me, and the chant began:
“Light as a feather,
Stiff as a board.
Light as I feather,
Stiff as a board.”
The chant became a rhythm, filling my ears with music. It was strangely peaceful; it felt like I was floating. I didn’t feel them pushing them against me. Actually, I felt nothing. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling. I didn’t feel the unbalance in height. I didn’t feel the coolness of the room. I didn’t feel the stickiness of Andrew’s fingers. It was like I was in-between time, from reality and sleep. It felt… natural.
The sound of shrieks and screams barely reached my ears. When I opened my eyes, the ceiling was strangely vivid. And I figured out why; it was an inch from my nose.
I screamed and fell straight to the ground, the trance shattered like glass. I landed on my butt, and scampered away to the wall. Andrew was weeping in the corner farthest from me.
“The ghosties! The ghosties! They’re gonna eat me!” He hymned, and it became a ringing in the room. The door burst open, and Mrs. Nikons wrapped him in his arms. He clutched her shirt tightly. “What happened here?” she said, directed to Leslie, who was gripping a plush pillow on her bed.
“It-it was just a game.” She stammered.
“What game?” Mrs. Nikons said, a hiss entering her voice.
“It was two fingers. We were just playing around. We didn’t mean for anything to happen. I’m sorry, Mrs. Nikons. It’s my fault.” I said. When she looked at me her expression changed, first from pity serenity to shock.
“Did you get contacts, dear?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I have 20/20 vision.” She hummed unsurely, then said, “Well, I don’t blame you dear.” Then led Andrew from the room. After a moment of silence, Leslie scoffed, “She likes you more than me.”
I ignored Leslie and went into the bathroom. When I stared into the mirror, I didn’t believe what I saw. No green was in my eyes; instead, an intense shade of glimmering bullion curved around my irises, swirling softly like a pool of neon. It ignited my face, highlighting my cheekbones and incenting my skin, and leaving my hair radiant like the dark woods, with the moon lustrous in the background. I was beautiful.
As I stared, enchanted by my reflection, something flickered behind me. It wasn’t literally behind me, but was replicated out the bathroom window. I studied it, and I grasped what it was, or who it was; he had followed us to Leslie’s house. And as I saw his face, his strong features, I also saw the same eyes staring directly at me.


I never told Leslie. She would freak if she had known. It was better that she didn’t know, and went on about the prom undisturbed. Of course, I was psyched for it too. But to Leslie’s standards, you have to get the dress five months ahead of time.
“You don’t even know who you’re going with,” I argued.
“Oh sure. I have guys lined up the hallway for me. All they need to know is what color the tie should be,” She smiled devishly. “But the problem is you. I mean, we can double date. But then that would be like a tag on, and the guy I sign you up with might just be going for me instead, and that would be like cheating. For me, of course.”
“So you don’t think I could get my own?” I challenged.
“I don’t doubt you girl, but the whole ‘introductory’ is not your thing. You’re like the perfect goody-goody girl, if you know what I mean.”
“What do you mean by goody-goody?”
“You’re- you know- don’t make this uncomfortable. It’s supposed to be a fun time on dress shopping. Geez, lighten up.” She threw a barrette at me. It fell to the floor.
“Okay, so what do you think about this one?” she held up a cherry red mini dress.
“Unless you’re going for street walker, then no.” I giggled. We searched around the tiny store, pulling and trying on anything worth it. Leslie lugged out a dark indigo sweetheart neckline, and handed it to me. She pushed me in the dressing room when she saw my pained face.
When I walked out, Leslie’s eyes lit up. She showed me to a mirror. The dress fell easily around my waist, and tightened above my hips, giving me delicate curves. It was two layered, and flowed like water at my knees. It looked like air when I walked, and had a fragile flower at my side where it looked like the fabric was being held together by that alone.
“Am I awesome, or am I awesome?” Leslie said, grinning at herself. I nodded, transfixed. She suddenly bounced off, and returned with golden high heeled sandals that twisted like vines around my ankles. “There. Now your perfect.”
Leslie picked out a deep beige keyhole short dress and black heels, and went to the counter. I hesitated at the mirror, than resentfully changed. I joined her.
The next day after school, I shot down Leslie’s offer to drive me home. My neighborhood was less than a mile away, and the weather was a cool fog; my favorite. The small dirt path that was made when we were kids that led past almost to every house in the grade, and cut straight through the woods. We used to go on it all the time, until Leslie insisted that it was too dirty. Now I had it all to myself.
I was half way in when the sensation suddenly went on hyper mode. It was so sudden that I had to stop. I hunted the landscape around me, but nothing was there. I cursed at the feeling. But my hand still went the tiny bottle in my bag.
I began walking again. A bird cawed overhead. A squirrel rustled in the leaves. Something was still wrong. The sensation was screaming at me now, telling me to run to safety. It was so overpowering that I winced. I couldn’t focus on anything, everything was blurry. Then he was right in front of me.
I saw the pure color of his eyes, and then my vision slowly zoomed out, like something off of Wonderland. He was still wearing that hat, and a heavy black raincoat that fit the picture. He looked like he should have been playing as a blonde superman. Hmm, the nerdy type. I quickly dismissed that thought.
“What do you want?” I asked, hating my waviness.
He unnerved me by chuckling. “Don’t you know?”
When I hesitated, he sighed. “Ignorant.”
“Am not! Who are you to be stalking me?” I hissed. I felt stupid to argue with him, when I should be running.
“Haven’t you been feeling a little off lately? Weird stuff happening to you?”
“Like now?” I countered. He sighed again, this time with more of a hint of annoyance. “Of all people, they assign me to you.” He muttered.
“Well, can you stop following me?” I swerved around him, for him to block my way. I glared. “Move.”
His eyes glinted “Make me.”
I snatched my hand out and sprayed any body part I could as I sprinted down the path. Suddenly my feet were seized out from under me, and I spun around with him gripping my elbow. I crashed into him.
When my fingers touched his chest, the sensation seemed to shoot out of my arm. I smelt burnt clothing, and he was sent into a nearby tree, water and splinters raining down on him. I took the opportunity and ran, my life depending on it.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.02.2012

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Widmung:
To my awesome nosy mom.