Chapter 1. Jenny's point of view.

I was walking home from college, just got off the bus stop. It had been a long day, filled with mind numbing lectures and endless
discussions about a paper due next week. My head was full and I felt so tired. I couldn't wait to get
back home, jump in my bed and sleep untill next weekend.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the plan. See, I'm kinda fat, I prefer chubby, so I had a group fitness lesson planned for the evening.
I've been working my butt off for the past year but so far only lost about 20 pounds. That's not enough because
I'm still as big as can be. Anyways, let's not dwell on that too much.

When I got home, my dad was still at work. I don't have a mother anymore, she died when I was about 14. Car accident. My dad
has been working full time so I can go to school. Even though it's community college instead of a 'well known' one, I was so greatfull
dad was providing for me. A lot of my classmates aren't so lucky.

I went home, packed my sporting bag and set off to the gym. Fortunately there weren't many people joining in on the group lesson.
This made me a bit more at ease, I still wasn't very comfortable at the gym but knowing that I had a little more room
to myself, and I could get a spot at the back of the group made me feel a bit better.
The lesson went fine, after all this time I knew the routine and got along well with the others. I didn't shower there; I wasn't
comfortable. I went straight home, to eat and do my homework.

I made some soup for myself. Easiest thing to do, just heat it up and you're done. I didn't like spending time on things that
weren't fruitfull to me. No way I'm going to make a three course dinner for myself, and eat it alone at the table. I liked my food ready
to eat in no-time.
I took my bowl of soup upstairs, so I could get started on that paper that was due. Not feeling like it, but also didn't want to spend my
weekend locked up in my room.
My room has never felt like home. It always felt like someone was watching me. Me and my dad moved in about three years ago. This
house was cheaper and also didn't need as much maintenance as our old one. It was smaller, but had had a big garden,
and in the summer I'd love to lay in the grass outside, with my favourite music and a book to accompany me.
In the winter however, was when I felt like a prisoner in my own home. The stairs would make these weird noises, and I could
swear they didn't do that in the summertime. Strange noises coming from the attic, like someone dropping a rubber ball and
it would roll across the floor. I'd be in my bed, making no noise, holding my breath and almost jumping at every unnatural sound
I heard. My dad would say that I was crazy, that I was acting up because I missed my old room, but that wasn't it. I had no
ill feelings toward my dad, I loved him, and even if we were to live in a wooden cottage in the middle of nowhere I'd be just fine.
The house is wat made me jump.

There have never been bad things happening to me there. It was just a feeling I had which would come back every year around September.
It would stay like that untill Spring set in. Weird noises, cold chills, and this one time, I swear I heard someone giggling.
I was alone at the time.
Still, I was a big girl, I'd go to that attic, on my own, but I'd never see anything. As soon as I actively sought out what it might
be, the noises were gone for a few days untill I forgot about them, then they slowly creeped back in.
This night was no different.

I had finished the first part of my paper. I wasn't really proud of it, couldn't get my head to concentrate, and felt like
the words I typed just came out like factory work. I'd made a deal with myself that it was good for now, and that I'd check
again tomorrow. If then I found out it was actually horrible, I'd start over. Jeez, I wish I had a partner on this paper.
I put my phone on the charger, set my alarm for 7 A.M., and went in the bathroom. Once again these feelings started
and I couldn't stop them. I've had them slumbering in my mind for quite some time now, but this last year is when they
started getting worse. I felt like I was always going to be alone. That there wasn't a single man on this planet who would want
to be with me. Who would want me? I'm a fat girl. The moment they see me, they all think my days are filled with lying on the
couch and ordering take-out. Or atleast, that's what I think after these years of rejection. I've almost closed myself completely
to anything regarding men. The only man in my life is my dad, this chubby sweet guy who sometimes reminded me of Dan Connor from
that tv show, Roseanne. Such a big teddy bear.

I decided to stop thinking about this too much. It wasn't going to help me anyway. So I just took my post workout shower, brushed my teeth
and combed my hair. Got in bed and played around on my phone a bit before I went to sleep.
Last week I had installed a news app from my area, so I decided to check if anything exciting had happened in this
otherwise very dull town. The town I lived in only had 5000 people living in it, 1 motel, 1 supermarket and 1 bar. That's about
it. My college was two towns away, easily reached by bus.
"Something caught my attention. A man was found dead yesterday morning, only one block from where I live. That's weird, I hadn't
heard anyone talk about this. The bulletin said that the neighbours heard screams coming from the first floor, but that they
couldn't get inside. The house was locked from the inside, no windows were broken and no other signs of breaking and entering.
It said the man was found in a closet, but otherwise no specific details.
I think I vaguely knew the man. I had seen him once or twice at the gym. We never talked, but I knew where he lived and he
matched the description. He lived in a house similar to ours. Built in the early 30's, as homes for the people working
at the metal factory which used to flourish here. The factory was shut down about ten years ago. It had become a
frightening place, nature taking back what it could and youth spraying graffiti and breaking windows on the weekends.
It was not a place I would voluntarily go for a walk with my dog, or any kind of walk for that matter, in fact I tried to avoid the old factory as much as I could.
You could see the factory from any place in the town though, with two towers being so high they were even higher than the church.
It gave me shivers down my spine everytime I looked at it.
Almost half the town's population lived in the workers houses that were built then, including me and the man that was murdered yesterday
morning.

I decided not to think about it too much, as it would only scare me and take away hours of my much needed sleep.
I had set the alarm, even though I didn't have to start untill noon tomorrow. I thought it'd be best to look at the
first chapter of the paper again, seeing if I could adjust some things or make the story a bit more readable.
I nodded of quite easily, dreaming about getting lost in the factory and losing my dog in the enormous chambers the factory held.
The next morning I woke up at exactly 7 A.M., my alarm doing it's job well, but I didn't feel like I got any sleep.
Still feeling very tired, I decided I needed another shower, even though I had one last evening.
After the shower, I put a knot in my hair, slapped on some mascara, put my glasses back on and went downstairs. I was
happily greeted by my dog, Kent. My dad always takes her with him to work, so I knew my dad was back and going to sleep in today.
I let Kent out on the grass, having a cup of tea myself. I was still in my bathrobe, so after I got back in I went upstairs to change
into something more presentable.
I was glad I did, because at around 9 A.M., the doorbell rang. I had seen a black car parked on the street, not a car I had
ever seen before. I thought one of the neighbours must have bought another one.
After I opened the door, I saw two men standing in front of me. One a bit taller than the other, the shorter one looking
older. They looked good in their suits. The shorter, but handsomer one was looking straight into my eyes, and for a few seconds, we said nothing.

He was gorgeous. I was scared to say anything, afraid I might blurt out something totally innapropriate, or something that
would make me seem like I had an IQ of only 15 points. Believe me, I've been there. Something clicked in me when I saw him,
he gave me a feeling of home, and for a split second I thought I saw the same in his eyes.

'' Good morning, FBI. My name is Agent Harrisson and this is Agent Hamill. We would like to ask you some questions concerning
a murder case one street away. Would you mind if we came in? ''