The Tombstone

Following

She had gotten the job the summer before; the summer of '94. "Wag-a-Tail" was the name of the shop. I know, funny right? But that place was tiny, and only consisted of pet food/treats, toys, collars and leashes; nothing more, nothing less. Not a huge selection either. But it was due able. They made it work. They occasionally had an event in the daytime, where puppies and kittens would come in and could be adopted. "The National Adoption Day" was the name of them, and she adored those days. Although she was not a huge animal lover, she most certainly loved when they came in. It made work less boring those days, since the regular customers a day were around five to fifteen. Steph had been working full time hours now, since she recently finished high school the year before. She wasn't exactly sure as to what she wanted to take in college, or which one to go to. All she had in mind was writing. Oh, she loved to write. In school, the short stories in English were her favourite. The fact of making up particular characters and stories that could come to life set fireworks in her head. Her bedazzled head which possessed unique thoughts and stories that came to mind as she wrote and situations that had never happened, but would on the paper. Steph always had a big imagination, she knew as well as others told her. Her stories were real, her teachers would tell her. Real. Unique. Believable. Mysterious.
She liked to think she had a gift, in some way. Her gift of writing and sharing stories with others who needed them, who needed them to help them in their lives, and to enjoy a story like old times. Times as when they were a child and read children's stories or looked through picture books of unicorns or dragons. The good, old times.

As she walked to the two way road, she looked both ways before passing on straight ahead towards her destination. Her short light, wavy hair swirling around in the cool wind above. The way her eyes gazed with specks of a certain colour, a colour most people didn't have. They appeared golden, in every light she stood. But not the brown golden most people were used to; it was just that, gold. A deep, yellow golden. Like wheat that blew in fields that some farmers would grow. Like the colour the sky would show some days when the crack of dawn was coming. Gold.

*SLAM*
A car door shut hard somewhere behind Stephanie, which caused her to jump high. She turned fiercely around to notice it was only a little boy running out of a car to meet the house which looked as if he already knew. A mother—or what seemed to be a mother— following behind him.
Sigh.
Steph was relieved that was all it was. She had been on edge for a while, not only because of the missing child, but because of an incident that happened about a year ago:
It was around spring of '94 when it all started. She didn't think anything of it at first, but eventually she started to feel it, hear it. The feeling you get when someone is watching you. The noise of someone walking behind you, following you.

It started one day as she was walking home from school. She didn't have a last period class, so she left early every day. Around two o'clock. As she walked with her hand tucked into her warm pockets, she was thinking of the story she would be writing in her English class very soon. Whenever she had a story to write in class, she gave it great thought and every little detail had to be perfect. Not just to get the good grade, but she wanted it to be perfect. She never thought of writing as a task or something she had to do, it was always something she wanted to do. Something she loved to do. And still did. But that day, something, or someone dragged her out of her thoughts as she heard a strange noise come from the patch of trees she was walking past. It was a noise she only heard if it was someone's birthday, or if something big happened in the family. A new birth perhaps, or someone opening gifts. It was the sound of a camera. A big camera at that. The ones photographers used, like when taking family portraits.
She stopped for a moment in her tracks, and peered into the woods that stood beside her. But, as she stood there, she saw nothing. It's probably birds or a tree snapping, she told herself before heading back her way. But then it happened again, and she stood once more examining the forest, until the thought came to her that she was loosing it.
It's just a bird or something.
And then she went on her way again.