Chapter Six:
Shirley West
It had been a long six months, but no word was ever found on Thomas Myers. Almost as if he disappeared from the very face the Earth…
But Shirley knew better. In her heart, she knew Tommy was alive and he was somewhere. She hounded the police everyday until finally they would stop returning her calls. No new evidence was brought up and there were no witnesses. She was told that by now she should assume the worse has happened and move on. But she couldn't. Not when she suspected there was something amiss over his disappearance.
On top of her worries over her missing boyfriend, Shirley was receiving strange messages from an anonymous admirer. At first, there were the little notes stuck in rose bouquets with romantic overtures. As sweet as it was, Shirley was not interested and would throw them out. Tommy was the only man for her and he was going to be the one she would marry. She would wait for him to return, even if she turned old and gray. She would wait.
Her friends tried to get her to change her mind, but Shirley was stubborn and turned down any blind dates. And if she was forced into one… well, she made it a very memorable night for the guy by going on and on about Thomas Myers. She could never get over him.
So she turned to her other form of happiness before Thomas came crashing into her world—music.
An aspired songwriter and musician in folk music, Shirley would pluck the strings on her guitar about finding or losing one's love. At the moment, her songs had been mirroring her latest life drama with a tinge of hope that he would come back.
Once she would start a song, Shirley couldn't help but feel she was being watched. Of course there would be nothing there when she looked, but the rise of goosebumps wouldn't leave until she put the instrument away.
And when she would go out in public, an uneasy dread would swell in her stomach. Without anything drastic happening, the paranoia was building within and Shirley wouldn't go anywhere unless she had a friend with her. No matter what she did, something or someone was following her.
Then it got to the point where she would come home to find notes nailed to her door. Some would deal with better ways for her to approach her music, watch her posture, breathing, etc. And then there were ones that would say how much he long for her, how much he would love her if she would say the word, and how soon it will be.
Shaken and disturbed, Shirley made it a new routine to lock her door and windows. But her stalker was relentless.
By her door there would be roses both dead and alive accumulated. The messages grew always ending with "soon". What did "soon" mean? Not wanting to know, Shirley made a habit of crashing over at her girlfriend's house every other night. When one would ask what was wrong, she would laugh and say nothing. Though a fool would have to believe her.
Why Shirley couldn't tell anyone, she didn't know. If she tried, somehow her throat would get stuck and the words wouldn't form. Especially whenever she would try to tell someone her strange dreams.
Every night, she would enter a world of darkness where light was forever lost. And then there would come a voice. It was an unusual beautiful voice that would lure her from the terrible blackness. And just as she reached towards it, a hand would grab her, waking her from her deep sleep.
It grew worse each passing night, a new ending sequence more horrifying than the last. First had been the horrendous singing lesson. The teacher couldn't be seen, but his instructions were fierce and too much for her. Shirley wasn't born to vocalize high soprano notes. And if she didn't hit it or was off-key, he would lash out in a loud, furious tone and at the last straw he shoved her to the floor. A shadow loomed over her and choked her until she cried for mercy.
The next night Shirley was alone in a room and when she tried to leave, the door was locked. Banging and slamming against it, the door wouldn't budge. Screaming for help didn't work and as she desperately clawed at the wood, a maniacal chuckle would blow her ears.
And the last one left her in a cold sweat and tears. She was alone but this time the voice she heard wasn't male. No… it was feminine and unlike anything Shirley has ever heard-- soft, melodious, and haunting. She went in search for the siren and after a hopeless attempt Shirley eventually encountered the girl. Off in the distance stood a small figure, a soft glow of light wrapped around her. She was wearing a torn, wet gown that had been at the one time a pearly white.
Moving closer, Shirley realized in paralyzed shock that it was a wedding dress and the girl's face was covered by her wet, matted dark curls. The song that was barely a whisper came loud as she approached Shirley. Cold and slimy hands gripped her wrists, the streaking tendrils parted to reveal…
Her.
"Here comes the bride," her double murmured, her blue eyes dark and wild.
Shirley woke up screaming.
In the night, out her window, there would be a pair of yellow sparks burning as she huddled in her bed, trembling all the way to her toes. Those glowing orbs wouldn't leave her alone. Every dark corner and shadows would cause those eerie lights to gleam, never blinking… always staring.
Now it was a late Friday night and Shirley was trying to block any thoughts of her nightmares with a marathon of Donald O'Conner movies. Nothing like the oldies that could take away one's worries. Yet, Shirley couldn't shake off the creeps that were riding her stressed mind. If only Tamara wasn't working…
She didn't want to be alone for reasons she couldn't comprehend. Well, there was Donald and Blue Eyes to keep her company.
Soon, she thought. Soon they had said. Soon for what? Could it be about Tommy? Oh please, God, let him be all right.
(Shirley)
Her head whipped around. Nothing.
"Okay, girl. Calm down," Shirley told herself firmly, but her voice shook.
(Soon)
"Nothing's wrong. It's in your head. You need to stop worrying yourself to death. Like Mom always said, 'Worrying is going to do nothing but run you to your grave'. No, bad analogy."
(Soon)
Breathing heavily, Shirley gripped her armrests and tried to focus on Donald's zany dancing on the movie set, as perspiration broke out on her forehead and hands. There's nothing to be afraid about. Nothing.
For good measures, she clicked on the lamp near her to scare away any night baddies. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe.
(Now)
And the room was plunged into darkness.
xxXXxx
"Yes! Home alone. Soak it up Mags before it goes away," Emmy laughed as the girls walked inside.
Maggie smirked. "Your brother isn't that bad."
"That's only because he likes you."
The short, strawberry blonde giggled. "Yeah right."
Emmy shook her head, setting her backpack on the kitchen table. "Wanna Coke?"
"Sure." Maggie followed suit and waltzed out into the family room, searching for the remote.
A few seconds Emmy came out with their drinks and handed Maggie's hers. "Thanks."
The brunette nodded and stretched her legs out in front of her on the floor. "Anything interesting on?"
"Nope. Hey… Dr. Phil is on."
"Cool. Wonder who's he going to have on there."
"Well, I'm hoping for Jay to be there. He's one hot doc I would love to have," Maggie said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Emmy snorted. As the program started there came a news bulletin.
"We apologize for the interruption, but the police has found the body of Shirley West off of 16 Mile in Hillsdale. Miss West had gone missing last Friday night around 11 PM when her friend called to check on her."
Maggie and Emmy looked at each other, agape, and back to the TV screen.
"Miss West was the girlfriend to the still missing Thomas Myers back in December. The case is open if anyone has any leads to please contact your local police."
"Oh my God," Emmy gasped.
"The coroner reports that cause of death was cardiac arrest, though friends of Miss West are finding this suspicious. She never been an likely candidate for heart problems and there's nothing in her family history that shows this. But they told police they suspect that some anonymous secret admirer may have something to do with her disappearance. Miss West had been receiving gifts and notes from this person for month's prior and even though the victim hadn't said much of what these presents were; police do want to get in contact with this person for questioning.
"Miss West was twenty-four, graduate of Michigan State, and an aspired musician. If anyone has any information concerning Shirley West or Thomas Myers, family and friends urge you to come forward. Now back to the original program."
TBC…