"Get your hand off my locker before I smash it in your face," I hissed. I was practically spitting poison at this guy. I mean, who did he think he was, swaggering up to me, all casual, as if he hadn't done a single thing wrong. Like he hadn't tried to kill me the last time we met.

"Now Suze," Paul chided, a strange glint in his eye which sent shivers down my spine- and not in a good way either.

"I'd have thought you'd actually try to be nice to the new guy."

I just looked at him like he was crazy. Really. Did he seriously think I would "try to be nice to the new guy" when the new guy had attempted to murder me? I doubt anyone would be nice to a guy who did that.

"Get your hand away from my locker and get the heck away from me." I tried to sound all cool and calm, just like Paul, but I don't think I managed it if Paul laughing was any indication.

There I was, facing up to my biggest fear, and all he did was laugh. I mean, I'd been having nightmares about this guy and he was just...well, laughing. I felt this sudden urge to plunge my thumb into Paul's eye but I resisted. Somehow.

Paul fastened his electric blue-eyed gaze onto my emeralds and-with a huge smirk on his face- asked me why he would want to do that.

I couldn't say anything because my throat had run dry. I swallowed and tried to speak. Again, I couldn't so I settled for glaring at him.

Paul smiled knowingly. "What? Don't tell me the famous Suze Simon is scared if of me?" he asked slyly. I opened my mouth this time, ready with a reply but Paul beat me to it.

"Or is she just scared of what I know, and what I could teach her?" he asked, reaching out and tipping my face up to look at him with a long, tanned finger.

I glared at him again. I couldn't help noticing the strong planes of his face. I marvelled at his long lashes and his curly, dark hair. Why did he have to be evil and hot?

I mentally shook myself. Hard. This guy had tried to kill me and all I could think of was how hot he was? I seriously need my head examined.

Paul smiled slowly.

I shivered. It felt like the temperature had suddenly dropped to freezing point. I could feel goose bumps breaking out on my arms and legs. I started rubbing them but noticed that Paul still hadn't let go of my face.

I pulled my head out of his grasp. Just as I was turning my face, Paul's finger slid down onto my cheek then on my lips. Before I had a chance to inform him of what happens when one touches my face in that way, he let go. Just like that.

I acted like nothing had happened and dialled the combination on my locker, swung it open then slammed the door shut.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, but I gotta go," I said, in a fake, cheerful tone. I practically had to force those words out, the "it's been nice to talking to you" bit, I mean. It was kinda obvious that I was lying.

Paul leant down until his face was just an inch from mine. This time, my whole body felt numb. I stumbled backwards so I was flattened against my locker. My brain registered that there was no one to help me. Crap.

I didn't notice that it was weird for nobody to be here- it was the first day back from the holidays- but, give a break, I was a little bit stressed out at the moment, you know?

"You, you'd b...better stay away f...from m...me," I stammered. I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice even though I did try to disguise it. I guess I should've tried a little bit harder but it's hard to do that when you're confronted with you're worst fears. Paul leant even closer to me. I could feel his breath on my face. It was cold, just like him.

"I don't think so," breathed Paul. A little smile tugged at his lips. I trembled. "You see, I don't want to stay away from you," he explained, twirling a lock of my hair, "quite the opposite actually."

Why me?

No, seriously, why out- of all the Kelly Prescott's and Debbie Manucuso's of the world- did he have to go and choose me? Yeah, I am above average in the look's department- if I do say so myself- but that doesn't mean I want a stalker. I mean, Paul came all the way from Seattle to Carmel, where I live, and enrolled in my school, consequently making my life a living hell. If that isn't considered stalking, then honestly don't know what is.

My whole body was shaking now. It felt chillier now and a gust of wind whipped my hair into my face.

Paul's luscious hair-which never seemed to stop shining- was being blown about a lot but he didn't even notice. It was like he was somewhere else.

I figured that Paul had slipped into la-la land. I classify this as rude. If you're talking to someone, you don't just ignore them. I'd have thought Paul had more manners than that.

I looked at Paul. His eyes were glazed over and had a definite coldness about them. He was really stiff too. Paul had unfolded his arms and placed them on either side of me before he'd gone into his own world, so he had me kinda trapped in his-ahem- embrace.

Maybe, just maybe, I could slip out underneath his arms. It was as I was contemplating this thought- whether I should or shouldn't, you know, attempt an escape- that I noticed something.

There was fog at my feet. No wonder it was so cold.

Wait a minute; there was fog, in school?

I shifted my gaze and took a look around me. My mood took another dip. We weren't at school. Oh no. I was in this place which-if you really want to know- creeps me out.

I was standing in a never-ending hallway, with fog licking at my new- totally cute- shoes. There were doors lined up on either side of me. Doors, which, if you opened them, you would never return. Above was a gorgeous starry sky. I'd only seen it once before and I didn't think I would ever see it again- 'till my time was up on Earth, that is.

Where I was, is the waiting area for dead, for when they're going to move on after they've kicked the bucket.

Where I was, is called the Shadowland.