InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Mourning of the Bloody Valentine ❯ Pink Slip ( Chapter 1 )

Mourning of the Bloody Valentine

Chapter 1 : Pink Slip

It was an absolutely breath-taking, beautifully rainy day and I, Kagome Higurashi, was busy trying to coach my brother on how to play baseball. In the rain. Fun, fun. My use of sarcasm has become so overwhelming lately, that I can almost see it dripping from my canines; that, actually, look like fangs! Newsflash, huh. Don't worry I'm not a youkai or anything. Those weird people. I've always been afraid of them. I guess I had been taught to. So anyway, I was coaching, Souta was failing, it was raining. The end. No, it's not over...unfortunately, because I have to tell you all about my thrilling "from age 17 to now" story. It actually all began when I was 17 when I began to notice it...

My Stalker.

.

.

.

Some girls think a stalking "admirer" is great; he protects you, is handsome and romantic, is crazy about you and catches you when you fall during your "near-death experience" tumble off of the 30 cm high bench you oh, so wisely climbed onto. In actual truth, it's scary. Threatening. Almost-making-you-piss-your-own-new-flared-pants scary. Now that's taking it too far. Far enough that someone sensitive enough could mentally and emotionally snap in two, leaving a broken mess of a person who didn't have much confidence to begin with and nobody to help them. Which was why I began to notice it. Sometimes it was just a shiver down my spine, the feeling like someone was watching me, and then the little notes began to appear.

I went to a private school in Japan, where I currently reside, and we wear those short little skirts and sailor uniforms that you just know somebody is admiring your `Tuesday' panties with flower print that you're wearing on a Friday. Some girls love this perverted attention. I hate it. Makes me feel damn self-conscious. My best friend Sango totally agrees with me on this, and she had voiced the opinion loudly and obviously after Miroku, our porn-washed-minded guy-friend, had snapped her panty elastic suggestively and groped her. The uniforms always brought attention to us, and you just knew it was a stalking tragedy just waiting to happen. I guess that's why he started taking interest in me. And I'm not talking about Miroku. Nope, not at all. During this time I had found a couple hot pink notes around. Most of them complimenting the weather, my new make-up, or my new shoes, and I just thought there was some admirer out there. I suspected Hojou first. He told me he didn't have an old fashioned typewriter when I asked him. So he was off my list. I asked all my friends, heck, even a couple rivals, if they knew who, or if they, had done it. Nobody. I was a little perturbed, but it was nothing serious. `They' only said `K' when addressing, me, I supposed. I believed for a while that it was meant for someone else. A Katie, Kaitlin, Katherine, hell, maybe even my look-alike friend Kikyou. I forgot about the hot pink slips after a while, since they had stopped appearing. Maybe the person finally learned to speak, instead of typing out little notes to get attention. How very wrong I was. Maybe the `person', as I called him, knew I was shrugging him off, which didn't sit too well with him, most likely. So he planned this.

.

.

.

I had been walking through the empty halls on Saturday (we have school 6 days a week) after-school with my briefcase-like-bag every student carries around. The lights were buzzing from a poor electric job, and flickering slightly. I breathed in the humid damp air and I just knew from the lunch-butterflies in my stomach that something was going to happen while I walked home. If you're wondering `Where the heck are your friends, girl?!' they had gone too. I could never afford the bus fare, though my friends frequently offered. Today I wished like crazy that Sango would have asked me and I had (but then again, probably not) accepted. The halls were still dirty; the janitor not made his rounds yet, most probably, and scraps of paper, late notes, and poor test grades fluttered around my feet. What caught my eye was a small hot pink notepaper scotch-taped to the double-door exit window. Smack in the middle. Curiosity flooded all my rational and logical thought like water to soup mix, and I trotted forward, plucked it off the door, and held it up to the blinking lights. (Poor eyesight, see. But not bad enough that I need glasses.)

Kagome. There. You. Are.

Hiding? Bad. Idea.

Love.

Now that freaked me out. It addressed me personally. So much for the option that this was coincidence. Either Kouga, my boyfriend, was trying to scare me again, or this was some illiterate, she-male of a stalker who could only write the maximum of 3 syllables per word. Per sentence. I immediately chose Kouga. I couldn't check the writing, it had been typed. Quite poorly, too. The `love' had been smudged slightly, but not enough to notice fingerprints or such. Okay, time to cut the CSI I'd been watching more of lately.

I, annoyed, stuffed the flamingly bright note in the front pocket of my case, and started trudging home.

Halfway there, I came across 5 more of the notes. All so far said:

Kagome. Head. Home.

Getting. Darker.

Apparently the `wave' was his signature. Great. Now it was getting colder, and darker, just as the note had foretold. After seeing the 6th note in the distance, I deliberately didn't pick it up, but ran home the whole way, looking over my shoulder constantly, expecting an ugly fat stalker puffing after me. As I reached my front door, I started jiggling my keys in the hole, desperately wanting to just be home, be in my mom's arms and safe.

I ran inside the kitchen, dropped my case, and waited for my breathing to slow. I took a couple deep breaths, looked around our darkening kitchen, lighted only by the setting sun in the west. I drank a glass of cool milk, wiped my mouth on my uniform sleeve, and after a deep sigh, headed up to my room. As I opened my door, ready to bed down for the night (who cared about homework anyway?) I came upon the freakiest, scariest, and strangest thing I had ever seen...

I came upon the freakiest, scariest, and strangest thing I had ever seen...

Hot pink notes layered my whole room. Like scales of a very girly fish, every square inch of everything; all my figurines, bed, pillows, lamps, books, and even the ceiling and window were covered with the small hot squares scotch-taped into place.

I realized I was walking on all these notes. It surely must have taken hours to do all this! And each note, I noticed, had something different written down on it. Here's a couple that I picked up:

Kagome. So. Pretty.

Favorite. Color. Shaded. Navy. Blue. Mix.

Gorgeous.

...

Kagome. Kiss. Me.

...

Kagome. I. Know. You. So. Well.

Could. It. Be. Love?

......

There were so many others, some listing everything I did that day, in short, direct sentences. Well, words, is more like it. One described my body as I was showering. That one scared me the most. He saw me at all times? Like...right now? This very minute, he could be in a tree somewhere, with binoculars, smiling slightly at my alarm? Another told me he wanted to touch me in...inappropriate places. Impossible! Inconceivable! This was just too much.

Then I heard Mom come home.

"Kagome?" she called lightly.

"Uh..huh?" I tried to call back, my voice was strained, and I could only give a hoarse reply. I heard her come up the stairs, and I could feel her behind me.

"Oh my...GOD!" Mom started fingering the layers on the inside of my bedroom door, "Who...who did this? What do these all say?"

"I...I don't know, Mom," I felt like crying, "They're all about me! Read them! A...A ...some kind of...stalker was here! I didn't do this! Who? Who..." I broke out in sobs.

All of a sudden, a gust of wind blew in my partially open window. A pink note slipped in.

Mom raced to the window, yanked it up, and peered outside with a motherly concerned frown on her face.

"Who's there?!" She shrieked. No answer. She slammed the window shut and snatched the note among the sea of other ones.

Kagome. It. Hurts. To. See. You. Cry.

Mother. Of. Kagome. I. Love. Your. Daughter.

...

And it was typed. And I had only started crying, oh, about, forty seconds ago. Whoever this was, he carried a big old typewriter in his wallet, and moved like a shadow.

About here I kind of blank out. Just a blank white page, if you will. Next thing I knew, I was awake and my mother with me in a cab, to the police station.

"We need help..." Mother said, shaking, more likely from fright, and not the early spring cold.

A hot pink note blew in the window. Mom's eyes widened. She stuck her head out of the cab, and I read the note.

Wait! Don't. Leave. Me. Alone.

...

I screamed hysterically, I passed out. All I remember is a fuzzy image of outside my side of the cab, something was moving as fast as we were. And it looked human. And then...

Darkness.

A/N:

Hye! Like it? Hope its okay for my very first chappy! Sorry that it's a cliffy, but I had to make it a little more suspenseful, yknow? Scary, huh? And HOT PINK! And you thought yellow post it notes would be terrifying...just imagine HOT PINK! Gah! shudders Hope you like it! Please review it if you're reading it!

-Katana