The Shadows

Chapter three

The chairs at the cemetery start to fill up as I place a bouquet of flowers on grandpa's grave. They had chosen their spots years ago, grandpa had everything under control until his daughter and son-in-law dropped off their baby for a weekend of babysitting only for them to never return.

I walk over to my seat at the front, next to grandma's brother, he is a sweet man and even though he is getting older and more senile by the day the man always knows how to brighten up someone's day, even if it was just with a smile or a small gesture like taking hold of my arm, he knew how to cheer me up just a little.

As the funeral went on all these people had something to say about grandma, from old friends that had known her for as long as they could remember to people she met at her weekly bingo nights, but everything that they said was all so positive and made my heart swell even more. "There was one wish Julie-Ann had, it was written in her will way before she slipped into that coma," the pastor says as he looks at me, "Julie-Ann loved to hear her granddaughter Samantha sing, and her last wish was for Sam to sing I'll Always Love You by Dolly Parton since Julie-Ann was such a Parton fan."

I have prepared this song for a little less than a week, and I am still not happy with it. Of course, it could never touch Dolly, and I really am not a Dolly Parton fan and I liked the one from Whitney Houston better, but it is for gran and I would do anything for her.

Standing up and walking to the front my heart starts to beat faster, nerves build up inside me as I take a stand by the microphone. Damn those Southern roots of grandma, I can't sing like Dolly Parton. I take a deep breath as the music starts and close my eyes, letting the music take me away.

I have always had a fear of speaking in public, and singing falls under that same category, it is something I avoid doing as much as possible. In a group no problem, the attention then is not solely on me. Choir no problem loved it, but I never signed up to audition for a solo. Gran was always disappointed in high school when she knew there would be auditions for a solo part and I didn't sign up for it, she wasn't mad, she just saw more in me than I probably did.

I snap my eyes open when I feel someone is watching me, not the people sitting in the chairs but someone I should be afraid of. The shadows have eyes. I look towards the shadows and see the silhouette of a man there. He is here!

The song comes to its end as I hit the last note, there is a small clap as I thank them and walk back towards my seat. Sitting down I watch as the pastor comes up again and says the last few words before they lower her into the ground.

I throw a rose into the ground with the casket and the first hand of sand, taking a couple of steps back I give the rest of the guests their space to say their goodbyes and throw in a hand of sand.

The silhouette that was in the shadows is gone, but I can still feel like he or someone else is watching me. My anxiety is burning wild inside of me. My breath catches in my throat as I feel the anxiety grow. I hate feeling like this. Gran did have fun with my anxieties sometimes. I once told her I had the feeling that someone was watching me, and she would look at me with a blank expression and the calmest voice she possesses and say, "but of course someone is watching you, child, there is always someone watching you." At the time I didn't realize she was talking about God, it scared me so hard I couldn't sleep for weeks. A sad smile comes to my face as I remember Gran and her joking ways.

The funeral is at its end as people come up to me to give me their condolences. A group of grandma's friends hold the reception, they thought it was better if they did and I wouldn't argue with them about it, I could come if I wanted to but I didn't have to do anything. I decided to go home and take a nice long shower and sit on the couch and eat some more ice cream. Even though I should attend the reception I just wanted to go home, I wanted to be alone for a while and wallow a bit in self-pity. It is not good I know but it is what I want.

As I walk away from their graves a cold wind rushes past me, I look up and stare into the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, they are ocean blue with little flecks of green in them. I stop in my tracks as I stare at the person the eyes belong to, he is in an expensive suit from what I can see, I estimate him at around 6'4 which towers over my 5'3. He has a bit of an olive undertone making me think he has some Italian roots but the rest is tanned making him look a bit Mexican or at least South-American.

I gasp as I connect the dots to who he is, he has really shown up and totally crashed the funeral. Well not really "crashed" but he was an uninvited guest so.... yeah technically that is called crashing. But he didn't disrupt the service or anything. He just stood in the shadows watching.

Diverting my thoughts away from him I look to the ground and quickly walk away towards my car. I just wanted to go home, get out of these clothes and take a long hot shower and put a pair of sweatpants on. Maybe while eating Ice Cream I can catch up with the few episodes of Sleepy Hollow that I missed.

I get in the car and drive away not once looking back at him because I will know for sure that when I do I'll do something stupid like stop the car and get out of it just to give him a piece of my mind for showing up at my grandmother's funeral.

Driving back into town I notice a black Lincoln following me, I saw it when I left the cemetery but didn't place it, now that I have a better look at it I can see that this is the same Lincoln from the other day and I am pretty sure I know who is in there. Well, not 'know-know,' of course, I don't know his name but it is the guy, or the boss, the Mafia. I grip the steering wheel tighter, why do I care that he follows me? He already knows where I live. It's not like I don't know Mario has the apartment across the hall from me.

Arriving back at the apartment complex I park my car and see the Lincoln speeding off, I do wonder if they really are from the Mafia and I did witness a murder why am I not dead yet? Isn't it to better be safe than sorry?

I walk inside and take the elevator up to my floor, getting off the elevator I look up and notice a note taped to my door. Sam, it says on the front. I rip it off the door and open it.

Sam,

You looked beautiful, even with your tear-streaked face.

And the song was amazing, you put your heart and soul into it, making even the men cry. You have a beautiful singing voice, just like your mother had at your age.

We came to tell you not to trust anyone. A lot of people are out to hurt you and giving the letters to the people across the hall won't protect you.

Remember they want you to slip up so they can kill you too.

Watch out!

Your Guardian

Taking the note inside I put it on the kitchen counter and read it again, why isn't it signed 'Your Guardians' since in the letters they talk about 'We' instead of 'I' it just doesn't make a lot of sense. A thought comes to mind, they were there as well? Why didn't I see them?

I fold it and look around the apartment trying to find a place to hide the letter. Walking towards my bookshelves I pick up one of my yearbooks and put it in there. I don't look in it and no one else who comes to visit does either. They are an awful reminder of the most horrible four years of my life. the constant bullying, and no social life sucked.

I drop the book back in its original place on the shelf and make my way towards my room, trying to unzip my dress in the process. The zipper on the back of the dress has always astonished me since we don't have arms long enough to unzip them, and not everyone has a significant other to help them with it, but still, almost every dress I own has a zipper on the back. I should pick something that is more easily accessible for a single woman.

I make it out of my dress and pick it up from the floor to throw it over the chair in my bedroom, I look at it for a second. I need to sort that stuff out, the pile is getting too big. I walk to my drawers and get out a clean pair of underwear, a pair of my favorite sweats, and an oversized shirt. The shirt had belonged to an ex, I just couldn't part with it. Not because I still have feelings for him. No. No, the shirt is just too comfortable to throw away.

Walking into my bathroom I drop my clean stuff on the counter and walk to the shower to turn on the heat. If there is one thing I love besides eating ice cream and be one of the lucky ones not to get fat it is taking long hot showers. The feeling of the hot water relaxing my muscles and washing away the stress and dirt of the day, nothing can beat that.

I turn on the shower radio and listen to the music they are playing when it is cut short and a static voice comes through the speakers.

We cut this song short for an important news bulletin. It has been little over a week since James Garner, owner of the night club in town, has been missing. The police have found no evidence of what happened to him, and ask that anyone who has seen anything or know something to come forward to the police. As of now, they think that he left the city, but the investigation is still going on.

Shadow!

I shake the thought away and step under the now hot water. I wanted to wash away all the worries and feel like nothing has ever happened, just for a moment. Gran won't come back and that is okay, but just for a moment, I live a normal student life and not a life where there is a bulls-eye on my back and someone pointing a gun at it waiting for me to slip up.