Fantasy Dominated

            by Judith Joy

 

            All my life I had been taught that little-girl ghost stories were foolish. That when your young, your mind is like a sponge; it sucks in all the scary scenes in movies, and all the tall-tales your bigger brother told you, and out comes a monster of your imagination. That’s why I didn’t believe Krista. She was younger than I was, and needed a lot of attention. I watched her day in and day out, creating her monster, obsessing over it constantly. I just thought it was part of her little-girl fantasy. However, I soon found out that her desire for adventure and thrills became much too real. Looking back, I can’t help but feel partly responsible. But now it’s too late.

            It all started about two months ago. Krista and I were neighbors, lived about a block away from one another. We did practically everything together, and it was easy since she lived just down the street. She was an only child, 13 years old (about a year and a half younger than me) and boy did that make all the difference. Socially, she was pretty awkward. I had a lot more friends than she did, but I did my best to keep her included in the group, and keep her up to date in all the gossip, even if she was a grade younger. Everyday after school, I would meet her at the library down the street to do homework and wait for our parents to pick us up. We had a daily routine: meet at the front gate, walk to the gas station to get some food, and then cross the street to the library. As 7^th and 8^th graders, we lived for the tiniest thrills. It all began when we walked to the gas station with a group of guys. All of us were white, except for two of our guy friends. Race was never an issue for me or really for anyone that I knew, until the guy at the gas station made it one.

            “Only three at a time and you kids aren’t allowed,” he said pointing at our two non-white friends.

            “What? Hey, that’s racist! Let us buy some food!” We were all pretty disgusted.

            “You boys have stolen here before, you’re not allowed back.” After shooing my two friends away, he welcomed the rest of us in, as if it were no big deal. One of my friends looked at me and winked as he stuffed a snickers into his pocket, “You guys ready? I don’t want any of this, let’s just go.”

            And that was that. We headed out there, no big deal. Apparently those boys had stolen from the gas station a lot. Apparently, the people at the gas station noticed, but decided to blame it on those other boys. For some reason, this idea thrilled me and Krista. We soon added that to our routine. Go to the gas station. Steal. Walk across the street to the library. The thrills of middle school were only beginning.

            The library itself was pretty small and packed with books; it got a little claustrophobic at times. People would come and go; check their emails, read the daily papers, or if they were like me and Krista, whisper gossip back and forth in an attempt to get some homework done. One man, however, Krista and I began to really notice. There were tons of people at the library, but something about him really stood out, not in a good way, though. He stood out in more of a creepy way, in a way that no one wants to be noticed as. Everyday we came in, he was there. He would just sit there constantly, hunching over the newspaper, always alone. I don’t think I ever heard him talk to anyone, let alone speak a word. He was taller than I was, medium build, Asian, and balding on the top of his head with the hairs left, long and in a pony tail in the back. He wore thick, large blue glasses, and his eyes would stare at the newspaper. Soon enough, however, we started to notice his eyes on us. He didn’t seem too harmful though, just kind of weird. Well, that’s how I felt at least. Krista, on the other hand, she was scared shitless.  

            Pretty soon, I found myself listening to Krista talking about this legendary stalker at the library. She had really done her homework, “So ok, get this. Apparently, this girl who used to go to King had to get a restraining order against him! Do you see what this means?” she said with bright big eyes.

            “No, I don’t. What does this mean?” I looked at her, confused and a little startled that she had found that out.

            “It means that we could be next.”

           

            Call it sick, but for some reason now every time Krista and I went to the library we couldn’t help but look out for him. Going to the library to be picked up began to turn into a thrill ride, adrenalin rushed through us every time we caught a glimpse of those blue glasses. Krista would get really into it, when we’d sign up to use the computers, she’d always put a fake name in fear that he’d look us up and find our houses. I never really took it all that seriously, though. For me, it was only fun. It became more for Krista, however.

             

            Krista began to remember little things about him. After a few weeks, she was guessing what he would wear before we even entered the library. She knew where he’d sit down, and she’d make her way towards his area, just to see if he’d look at us. Sometimes I’d watch her as we’d walk by him, and sometimes I wondered if she was showing off for him. Disgusting, I know, but this was probably the only guy who had ever watched her so closely. He would stare intensely at her. Neither of us would directly look at him, but I could always feel his eyes upon us. I knew she could too, and I think she liked it. That was all though, he would only stare.

            After a few weeks of nonstop staring, however, Krista claimed couldn’t handle it. She talked about it constantly, wondering where he was at all times, whether or not he would surprise us on the walk to the library. She started telling me horror stories about how she was having nightmares about him and how she swore she saw him at the market in our neighborhood. Sometimes she was right, though. When it was time to head home, one evening, we saw him leave as well, following right behind us. Krista grabbed my hand and clenched hard, “I knew it,” she whispered. We kept walking, and his slow footsteps were heard closely behind us. Yet, it wasn’t his footsteps that scared me. When we had reached a certain distance, the footsteps stopped. When Krista stopped hearing the footsteps she began slowing down, as if she wanted him to catch up. We heard nothing. Krista, becoming bolder by the minute, quickly turned around to look for him. That was when I got scared.

            “Krista, what are you doing? Let’s just get out of here!”

            “He’s gone. Where the hell did he go?”

            “Why do you care? Just be happy he’s not behind us anymore!” Krista seemed not to care what I said; she only cared to know where he went. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. And so, the very next morning Krista decided she was not going to go to school. Instead, Krista wanted to stake out the library. I tried convincing her otherwise, but it was no use. She really felt something, whether it was fear or extreme curiosity, it got the best of her. I decided I had no choice but to go with her, after all, I was sort of curious myself. When our man pulled up in his navy Toyota, I could see the excitement pouring out of Krista. He got out of the car, and walked directly into the library.

            “I wonder if he ever leaves to get food,” Krista whispered, staring strongly at his every move.

            “Yeah,” I said back, “Krista, we need to talk.”

            “Ok, what about?” she said, still staring at him.

            “About this, it’s becoming ridiculous, he hasn’t even done anything but stare and now we’re following him? Krista, you’re taking this too far.”

            “Are you kidding? That man obviously has issues. Do you not remember that girl with the restraining order? Something’s obviously going on, and if you don’t want to figure it out with me, than that’s your choice. I’m not going to be the next victim.”

            “The next victim of what?”

            “Come with me,” she said as she quickly began walking towards his now empty car, “Look. Tell me I’m wrong.”

            Then, Krista stalled. She stopped walking and just stared blankly towards his car. His smelly, dirty car was full of blankets and trash and books (What kind of books?). It was as if she had just proven even herself right. Deep down, she didn’t even believe that she was right, not until now, anyway. But the truth stared back at us; it was on his back windshield, a small tiny sticker on the right top hand corner of his back windshield. At first I thought the sticker meant he was secretly a cop, since there was a cop symbol on it. I looked closer, however, and realized it meant he was under police surveillance. The rumors were true, I guess.

            Then I looked at Krista, motionless, stuck in time, perhaps, staring. Until this point in time, it had all seemed like a lot of fun. The crazy stalker, the adventures to the library, the rumors, the nightmares, all the mysteries seemed to end with this sticker, though. He was under police surveillance, our fantasies and imaginative fun had to end, they had hit reality. Krista didn’t blink, or move a muscle.

            “Krista?” I said, staring at her. “Krista. Krista. Krista?” She didn’t move. I couldn’t tell if she could even hear me. “Krista, come on we got to get out of here. Krista, are you ok?”

            “What? Oh… yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” she said, still staring at that sticker. Her body turned away before her eyes could, and then we just walked. We walked away from his car, from the library, the gas station, school. I wasn’t sure where we were walking, but I decided not to question Krista, so I let her lead me down the road.

            We walked for about a half an hour towards Andronico’s Market down on Solano. The entire walk was filled with silence; silence that I couldn’t stand anymore. Every time I came up with the courage to say something to Krista, I was held back by the words. I didn’t know what to say. The silence was soon interrupted however, when we saw him. Across the street from Andronicos he sat out front AG Ferrari, staring. His blue sunglasses were now tinted so blue that we couldn’t tell where his eyes were, but his face was towards us. Suddenly, I felt Krista grab my arm and squeeze, tightly. She quickly led me down the street, opposite direction from his view. As we walked, I got the strange sensation that his eyes were still upon us; I could tell Krista did, too. When we reached the end of the block, Krista turned a sharp left and headed down another street, me running along behind her, trying to catch up with my own arm that she was currently holding captive.

            “Krista, wait!” I said, running out of breath and also feeling very strange for escaping the horrors of Solano. 

            “No… we gotta keep going, he could follow us!” Krista didn’t look up, and she certainly didn’t slow down. Her eyes glued in front of her, face stern and arm stretched behind her clinging to mine. Like always, I just let her lead.

            Once we had gained a fair enough distance, and we’re heading right back to the library, Krista began to slow down. By this point, I was used to the silence. I figured there was nothing I could say to calm her. She felt uncomfortable, and she had a right. I admit, I felt pretty uncomfortable myself. Suddenly, a familiar navy Toyota pulled up right in front of us and slowly stopped the car. The red break lights blinded me, that same old sticker stared straight back at me, I couldn’t believe it. The air was cold and I felt numb as I grabbed Krista’s hand and led her away from his car. Krista, of course, was scared stiff. She just let me grab her; she just let me lead her. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew that I had no choice but to get out of there. It was too weird, too coincidental.

            So we hid out back for a while behind a group of trees. We just sat there, watched the cars drive by, the dogs and their walkers sniff past us. It was cold and lonely, the fog rolled in and the grass we sat on seemed to get damper by the minute. The grove of trees had always scared me in the past, but right now I felt somewhat protected. I felt glad to be away from him, and to get Krista away from him. Krista was shivering. Her lips had turned blue and her eyes glued to the blades of grass before her, as if she was counting each one. We didn’t speak.

            The next thing I knew I was in the car with Krista and we were basking in the silence on the drive back home. My mom was asking questions that I found easy to drown out, and Krista was there, still staring down and out the window as if she was still counting those blades. The car stopped, Krista got out, thanked my mom, and it was done.

            The next day is all still a blur to me. At school there was no sign of Krista, I tried my best to remain calm and talk myself out of it, but I was genuinely worried. I was worried because I knew exactly where she was. I was worried because I still was left in our utter silence; I had nothing to say to anyone. But still, I managed to keep myself at school, until the worst thing possible happened.

            “Have you heard the news?” my friend panted as she ran up to me and bombarded her way into my paralyzed state.

            “No,” I said casually, because I didn’t really care what the latest gossip was at that hour, “what’s up?”

            “They found a dead body at the library this morning, the one just down the street! How scary is that? It’s like there’s a murderer around us!”

            My heart pretty much stopped at this point. My worry from before, turned into pure anxiety which then again, twisted into extreme fright, “WHAT? Who? How do you know?”

            “It’s all around school, there have been police officer’s and ambulances and fire trucks all morning, haven’t you heard them?”

            It’s true, I hadn’t heard. Forgive me, but I was still in a state of shock. This news definitely bumped me back to reality, however. Before I could really respond to my friend, I turned and left. I walked straight out of school, marching even, down the street towards the library. She was right, police cars were scattered everywhere, yellow caution ribbon strung around the entire premises. I felt so powerless, where is Krista, where is Krista? I found a pay phone and immediately shuffled through my bag and threw some change into the dispenser. My finger moved without any message from my brain, before I knew it, Krista’s mom was on the other end.

            “Hello?”

            “Uh, hi yeah, is Krista home?”

            “Um… no I believe she’s at school. Who is this?”

            I panicked, “oh, sorry, wrong number.” Click. There was nothing I could do. I was helpless and alone and before I knew it, I was crying and kneeling my way down to the ground of the sidewalk. Where the hell was Krista? What had she done?

            I don’t know how I did it, but I somehow got myself back at school and back in class. The rest of the day was shut out of my memory. The next thing I remember is reading the paper the next morning. Headline: Library Goer Checks out. I scrolled down, “Alan, a forty-six year old Asian man, was found dead Tuesday morning in front of the North Berkeley Library…” My heart beat faster than my brain could comprehend. Krista had to have done it. There was no way. Too much coincidence, it was much too real. I mean, he was dead. If Krista did it, then she’s a murderer. Forget him stalking or staring or us feeling uncomfortable. Krista killed him.