Stalker Read online

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Copyright Page

  Titles In Teen Reads

  CHAPTER 1

  If Aashif Rahmed could have got away with it, he would never have read another book again.

  It wasn’t that he couldn’t read, it was simply that he hated reading novels. They were boring and long, and half the time they were filled with stupid people who took an entire book to do something that Aashif reckoned he could do in ten minutes. Why would you ever go to the strange old house when your car had broken down? Why not just call up your dad on your phone? People in books were idiots.

  That said, there were other things that Aashif liked to read. He loved books about cars, and he was always on the Internet looking up websites about cars and sports modifications. When he left school he wanted to be a mechanic – not one of those greasy-overall, work-experience no-hopers in the Fit-Quick garages, Aashif saw himself as head of a pit-stop crew, fixing up Formula One or Nascar cars as they raced for big money.

  And so Aashif was always on the computer, at home and at school, always looking on the supercar news sites, always making sure that he was up to date with the latest modifications. And, of course, while he was online he was also checking his email and Facebook pages.

  It was on a Wednesday morning that the ‘friend’ request came in for the first time. Aashif was using one of the library computers during morning break, and had been reading about the new Subaru, when in the right-hand corner of the screen a small box suddenly popped up.

  ‘Iknowyoursecret’ would like to be your friend. YES / NO?

  Aashif stared at the box for a moment. Usually a picture of the person, or their real name would appear with the Facebook request, but for some reason they were missing. No real name? No ‘friending’. It could have been anyone: Gary Lucas having a laugh; scary Trish from year seven who wouldn’t take the hint that Aashif didn’t fancy her. Moving the mouse pointer to the box, he clicked NO before looking back to the webpage he was reading.

  ‘Iknowyoursecret’ would like to be your friend. YES / NO?

  Aashif stopped as the box popped up again. Looking up from the computer, he scanned the library, seeing who else was on the computers. It was a busy break and all twelve were taken, but none of the students was anyone Aashif knew. He sat back, frowning. Who did he know who would play a trick like this on him? Getting angry now, he clicked NO again.

  ‘Iknowyoursecret’ would like to be your friend. YES / NO?

  “Oh come on!” Aashif said aloud, standing up now, looking at the other computer users. “Who’s doing this?”

  But there was no answer. One of the students, a year nine, looked at her friend and giggled. Aashif was about to storm over to her and demand that she stop, but then he saw her point at a picture on the screen. They were giggling over some stupid pop band. Sitting back down, Aashif clicked NO a third and final time.

  Nothing happened. No new request appeared. Aashif started to relax.

  It was the laughing that made him tense up again. First the two girls again, then a spotty year seven across from him. Then another. One by one, every other computer user in the library had started to laugh, pointing at their screen, calling their friends over. And then, one by one, they all looked at Aashif. Rising from his chair, he looked at one of the screens, feeling a sick sensation in his gut when he saw the message now flashing on each of the eleven monitors.

  Aashif Rahmed wet his bed last year.

  Furious, Aashif shouted out, “Show yourself, you coward!” but nobody rose. The boxes disappeared from the screens and Aashif suddenly felt scared. It was one thing to put something up on a computer screen, but to put it up on all the screens at the same time took serious skills. Why would they say that about Aashif? And, more importantly, how did they know? It was one accident after a week of illness. Aashif had never told another living soul. Only his mother knew, and she’d never have spoken of it. So who did?

  ‘Iknowyoursecret’ would like to be your friend. YES / NO / MESSAGE?

  Aashif looked at the flashing box, noticing the addition. Pressing the ‘Message’ option, he opened up another window.

  ‘Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?’ he typed, hitting return and looking around the library to see who would reply. There was a year eleven who picked up his smartphone as it beeped, and for a moment Aashif wondered if he was the one doing this, but the boy put the phone back down without replying, and a second later a reply appeared on Aashif’s screen.

  I’m you, Aashif. I’ve always been you.

  Aashif looked at the screen in confusion. What did they mean? What kind of sick game were they playing?

  ‘Iknowyoursecret’ would like to be your friend. YES / NO?

  Aashif didn’t hit NO. Instead he turned the computer off at the socket. As the screen powered off he grabbed his bag and ran from the library, convinced that he could hear the laughter of the other students behind him. Someone was playing a dangerous game, and Aashif was going to make them pay.

  CHAPTER 2

  For the rest of the day, Aashif worried about the strange ‘friend’ request he had received several times, and the secret from his past that everyone had seen on their computer screens. Luckily, it was taken more as a joke played on Aashif than as a truth revealed to the world, but it was enough to worry him. After all, what if this person knew other secrets about him?

  He was so distracted in Chemistry that Mr Wallace asked him a question three times before Aashif even realised he was being spoken to. As the rest of the class sniggered, Aashif was sure that he saw Keeley James peering under his stool to see if he’d ‘had an accident’ while the others on her bench sniggered.

  At lunch time Aashif didn’t really want to hang out with anyone, still shaken from the computer messages, so he left the school grounds, walking up Bishop Street to the local chip shop. Outside the shop was one of his classmates, Kyle Walters, currently complaining about his smartphone’s camera app, and Aashif talked to him about it for a couple of minutes before going inside.

  Grabbing a small portion of chips, he sat on the bench over the road, staring across the park and playground to his right. No matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn’t think of anyone he might have told his bed-wetting secret to. It wasn’t the sort of thing you did. All he could think was that somehow his mother had stupidly blurted it out somewhere. But she was at work and he wouldn’t know until he saw her at the end of the day.

  Returning to school, he stopped off at his locker to gather his Maths books. He froze as he opened the locker door. He stared inside for a moment before closing the door again, examining the lock, re-locking and unlocking to see whether it could be jemmied open or not. Finally, deciding that the only way that someone could get into his locker was to have the same key that he had, Aashif opened the door and looked into his locker with a cold shiver of fear.

  Placed on top of his books was a printout. A photo taken on a digital camera or smartphone, printed out onto A4 paper. A photo of Aashif, sitting on the bench opposite the chip shop, staring off into the park. A single line was typed under it.

  Why won’t you be my friend? I’m always with you.

  Slamming the locker closed, Aashif locked the door again and, printout in his hand, made his way to the tennis courts where he knew Sara Lewis would be. Sara was probably his closest friend in the whole world and if there was anyone in this school who could work this problem out, it was her.

  On the way there, he saw Kyle Walters playing football. Looking at the photo, Aashif realised with a surge of anger that the only person who could have taken this photo, from this angle… was Kyle.
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  Grabbing Kyle by the arm, Aashif pulled him roughly from the game.

  “Hey!” Kyle said, pushing Aashif away. “What’s got into you?”

  “This!” Aashif waved the printout under Kyle’s nose. “You took this, didn’t you? With your phone, while I was eating!”

  “I told you the camera wasn’t working on my phone!” Kyle shouted back, as angry as Aashif was now. “That’s why – ”

  But Aashif wasn’t listening, already walking away from Kyle, annoyed at himself for getting angry. Kyle was right. His phone was damaged, he remembered Kyle telling him. He was letting the unknown stalker get to him.

  Finding Sara, Aashif showed the picture, telling her what had happened to him so far that day. Looking closely at the photo, Sara shrugged.

  “It’s just one of the class clowns trying to get a rise out of you,” she said, passing it back. “Don’t let it get to you.”

  “Easier said than done,” Aashif replied, leaning against the chain-link fence that surrounded the tennis court. “You’re not the one this is happening to.”

  “Look,” Sara smiled, “if it carries on, I’ll have a word with Danny and he’ll help you.”

  Danny Martin was Sara’s boyfriend, the captain of the hockey team and someone that you really didn’t want to annoy. He was also as solid as a rock to his friends. The thought of having Danny on his side relaxed Aashif a little and, straightening up, he crumpled the piece of A4 into a ball and tossed it into the bin.

  “Thanks,” he said as, in the distance, the bell for class rang. Sara grinned.

  “You’re my best mate,” she said. “If I didn’t look out for you, who would?”

  Aashif felt a shiver run down his spine as she spoke. If the stalker were happy to destroy the life of the person that they wanted to be friends with, what would they do to someone like Sara, someone that wanted to remove them?

  Aashif shuddered. He had the impression that it would be something very bad. Very bad indeed.

  CHAPTER 3

  Nothing more happened for the remainder of the school day and, as Aashif went home at the end of school, he actually started to wonder whether Sara was right and that it was simply one of the idiots in his class trying to get a rise out of him. He didn’t tell his parents that night and went to bed early, a broken night of nightmares ahead of him.

  The following morning was school assembly and, on the way in, Aashif found himself collared by Danny.

  “Sara told me about the photo and… well, the other stuff,” Danny said, looking around. “Any idea who it is?”

  “No,” Aashif said. “Nothing’s happened yet today so I’m hoping they’ve got bored and moved on to someone else.”

  “Well if they do start again, let me know,” Danny smiled. “I’ll back you up, OK?”

  “Thanks,” Aashif said as they moved into their different rows. Knowing Danny was there for him actually made Aashif feel braver and it was with a smile that Aashif sat down, looking across to Sara and waving. Things weren’t as bad as he’d thought they would be.

  BE-DEEP!

  Aashif opened his bag and pulled out his phone, looking around in case a teacher had seen him. Phones were supposed to be turned off during school. As he went to do this, however, he saw the message on his screen.

  I know what you’re trying to do.

  Aashif glanced around the hall, but nobody else had a phone in their hand. Quickly, Aashif turned it onto silent mode and put it back into his bag.

  BE-DEEP!

  Mr Wallace looked over to Aashif.

  “Phones off,” he ordered. Aashif nodded as he reached in again, pulling his phone out. He must have turned the ringtone back on, so he decided that it would be better if he turned the phone off.

  You can’t silence me.

  Aashif felt his stomach turn to water as he stared at the message before pressing the off button. The screen turned to black as the phone powered down. Relaxing, Aashif looked up to the stage where Miss Farrow was beginning her assembly speech. It was something about honour and being proud of what you –

  BE-DEEP!

  Miss Farrow paused as Aashif stared down in fear at the phone in his hand, as if it was a poisonous snake.

  “Phones off, Mr Rahmed,” she commanded.

  “Sorry miss, I think there’s a problem with it,” Aashif replied. “It keeps turning back on.” He looked over to Mr Wallace with a shrug. “I’ll try again.”

  As he looked down at the phone, he saw that another message had appeared.

  If you turn me off, I’ll make you sorry.

  Miss Farrow had started to speak again, and Aashif typed quickly into the message reply bar.

  Hitting send on the phone, he looked up to see Miss Farrow staring at him.

  “I said turn it off, not text someone,” she said.

  Aashif nodded, this time removing the back cover and pulling out the battery.

  “Done,” he said as across the hall a faint ‘be-deep’ was heard. Looking over, he saw Sara, embarrassed, pull out her own phone.

  “Sorry,” she said. But it was too late. Miss Farrow was already off the stage and walking over to Sara, hand out.

  “Phone. Now.”

  Sara passed the phone over to the teacher who, walking back to the stage, pressed a button on Sarah’s phone as she faced the audience.

  “You know I hate these things in school,” she started. “So let’s see what was so important that it couldn’t wait until the end of assembly.”

  The class started to murmur and talk, the excited sound of hundreds of students knowing that they were about to see someone made to look stupid. Aashif felt sorry for Sara, but at the same time couldn’t help wondering whether the reply he had sent his stalker had appeared on her phone – after all, it was pretty much immediately after he’d sent it that she’d received it and, if that was the case, was Sara the stalker? No, she couldn’t be. She hadn’t had the phone in her hand, and now he was looking up at Miss Farrow and she was looking directly at him and…

  Oh no.

  “So it was a very important text it seems,” Miss Farrow said to the hall. “And it was sent by Mr Rahmed there.”

  Aashif looked across to Sara, shaking his head, mouthing I didn’t, but it was too late as Miss Farrow continued.

  “Let’s see what it says, shall we? This electronic version of passing notes…”

  She looked down at the phone. “Sara, please believe me, I think I love you.”

  The hall started to build in noise while Aashif stared in horror at Miss Farrow as she continued.

  “Dump Danny, he’s a nobody. He thinks he’s so cool but he’s not. Dump him and go out with me on a date. What do you say?”

  Aashif looked around the hall, standing up as he did so.

  “I didn’t write that!” he shouted above the laughter. “It wasn’t me!” He looked over to Danny, who was staring at him with the look of a boy who wanted nothing more than to punch Aashif through a wall. “I swear, Danny! It wasn’t me!”

  He looked across to Sara, but she stared at the floor in front of her, refusing to look up at him as he called her name. The assembly was a riot now, with teachers taking their classes back to their rooms. Aashif looked up at Miss Farrow, staring down at him and shaking her head.

  “It wasn’t me,” he muttered, tears of anger coming to his eyes. Nobody would believe him. He needed to find the stalker and stop them, before they destroyed every single piece of his life.

  CHAPTER 4

  Aashif’s first lesson was a free period so he made his way to the library before anyone could stop him, getting onto one of the computers and opening his emails. As expected, there was one waiting for him.

  How did you enjoy assembly? I laughed and laughed as I watched you. But let’s be honest, you’ve wanted to say that to Sara for months. You’re way better than Danny, aren’t you?

  Aashif hit reply and started to type his message back to the stalker, looking around the room as he did so. />
  ‘I don’t know who you are but this isn’t funny. This ends now or I’m calling the police. I want you to crawl back under your rock and go away.’

  Aashif hit send and leaned back. He hoped that by threatening with the police, the stalker might finally leave him alone. But it was only a matter of seconds before the computer ‘ding’ alerted him that he’d had a new email.

  Oh, I’m going nowhere. And we’ve only just started.

  “Get lost!” Aashif screamed at the screen as he hit the delete button. But as soon as he deleted it, it reappeared on the screen. Time and time again he deleted the email to see it return, each time the ‘ding’ of arrival getting louder and more forceful. In the end the school librarian came storming over.

  “If you can’t use the computer quietly, then you won’t use it at all,” she snapped.

  But Aashif was already up from his seat, grabbing his bag and running from the library as the librarian called out after him, saying that he had to come back, that the bell hadn’t gone yet. But it was too late. Aashif was already down the stairs and out through the main doors as he ran from the school. Turning down the side of the building, the long, blank wall at the back of the assembly hall where the smokers usually gathered during break, he stopped, staring up at the bricks.

  Someone had sprayed red paint over them, a fifty-foot long canvas for their message. To the far left of the wall was a giant red love heart, with ‘AASHIF 4 SARA’ sprayed inside. Next to that were the words ‘DANNY MARTIN IS A GIRL’ and ‘DANNY MARTIN IS A MEAT HEAD’. Around the graffiti were little love hearts with ‘SARA’ written inside. Aashif backed away from the wall in utter terror, as if it was going to leap onto him at any moment. Who did this? Why did they…?

  There was movement to his side. Looking around, Aashif saw Danny Martin standing there, looking up at the wall, a long, thin bag over his shoulder.

  “Did you do this?” he asked. Aashif shook his head. Danny indicated Aashif’s satchel. “Show me the bag,” he commanded.

  Quietly, Aashif opened the satchel and looked in, feeling his legs turn to jelly as he saw the can of red spray paint there.