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Yvette Peacock

The Monster in the Basement

It was almost curfew. My daughter had to be in by 11:00. She had just left her friend’s when she passed a parked car that didn’t have Utah plates. The car pulled out behind her without its lights. Was it following her? As she got to our subdivision, it was still there; watching, following. She drove through parts of our neighborhood to see if it was true. After realizing it was, she was desperate to get away from this psycho. She was speeding to try to get away. The car was still close behind. She wanted to get home. She was going as fast as she dared on curves and corners. She turned into our cul-de-sac, her heart racing. Turning off her lights, she hoped the car didn’t see where she had gone. She ran into the house, and watched the predator drive by, looking for her. She was so scared that it took her awhile to tell us what had happened.

The next day she had work. She asked me to take her. I really didn’t want her to go anywhere alone so I agreed. Moms are like that. I dropped her off by the door and watched her go in. There was a car with Montana plates parked, in an odd way watching the building. It was the same car style. Freaky. It was wrong. This area was for faculty and handicap van storage. I had to make a 3-way turn to get out of the narrow parking area. I pulled into the spot next to the strange car, to discover there was a man leaning back in the drivers seat. Watching? Waiting? For my daughter? I backed out. I had to get help. I wanted him caught. I couldn’t draw attention to myself or he might flee. I wanted others to see his behavior. I drove out to the street. It was then that I called my daughter. I warned her that he was there. I told her to notify her boss, that there was a strange man watching their building. I told her not to leave the building. All the questions started flooding into my mind. How long has this man been watching my daughter? How does he know where she works? How did he know she was at that friend’s house? She was just a senior in high school. What a sicko. Why my daughter? Was this guy the same from last night? Maybe I’m just paranoid. I shouldn’t have left her there. He will continue stalking my daughter. I will get my husband. He will question this psychopath. Call the cops! What has he done? They will just think I’m overreacting. Driving into the garage, I felt helpless. After a few minutes of sitting there, I walked into the house. The phone was ringing. It was my daughter. Her boss had called 911. When the police arrived, he was still parked in the parking lot watching. He was in a stolen car. He had outstanding warrants in Montana for attempted rape and assault. What a great feeling to know he is off the streets.

Some think nightmares only happen while we sleep, but sometimes they happen while we are awake. 

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