This is a work of fiction. All characters named are purely fictional and do not in any way depict real life persons. Sit back, and enjoy part one of this short story series.

    CAUTION: SHOCKING!

    The first day of high school was uneventful, as was the second and third. These days were engulfed by long homeroom periods, and the repetitive procedural babble of teachers. But by the second week of school, strange things began happening to sixteen-year-old Francis Huff. Eyes seemed to follow her down the hallway, to the bathroom, through the parking lot, and even as she ate her Uncrustable. 
    Tuesday, her paranoia drove her into fits of fidgeting. These fits were so severe that she tripped on her untied All-Stars, spilling nachos all over her yellow blouse. 
    When she bustled down the ramp late Thursday morning, she heard footsteps right behind her. When she sat down at her desk in first block, she had a message engraved in red ink waiting for her on her desk: I’ve been watching you. 
    Her eyes darted up from her desk, wide and overly aware. “Did you get enough sleep, Francis? You look like a zombie,” chuckled her teacher from the board.

    “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Edwards,” said Francis, as she swallowed the lump in her throat and placed her folder over the red splotched message. 
    After receiving a library fine for a book that she knew she didn’t check out, Francis decided she had reached her limit. She tried telling her friends. 
    “You’re just being paranoid, Frankie.” She tried telling her mom. “You really need to get more sleep. Have you tried the lavender aromatherapy I gave you for your birthday?”     
    She even tried telling her teachers. “Have you tried telling your parents?”

No one could help her. 
    On the bus ride home, she was silent. She studied the people around her like they were specimens in a petri dish. I wonder what those girls are talking about. Oh! Now they are laughing! Are they playing some cruel joke on me?! These thoughts darted through her brain as she observed the clamor around her. 
    Once she made it home, she relaxed in front of the comfort of her computer screen. She logged onto Facebook and began researching profiles, searching for answers to her overwhelming bad luck.

    She heard a tapping at her front door. After she caught her breath, she peered through the side window, but no one was there. She tentatively went back to her computer and noticed that her status had been changed to: Francis Huff can’t hide forever. 
    Her mother was still at work. She grabbed her cell, but, of course, it was out of service. She stared at the screen, and could feel a heavy, damp breath sweep across the back of her neck. No one could help her.

To Be Continued Next Issue...