Samantha Ann Rose suddenly awoke in the middle of the night to the startling suspicion that someone was watching her. Slowly reaching over to the lamp beside her bed, not even daring a breath she pulled on the light. A knot of unbearable fear in her stomach, glancing around the room she saw no one, slowly breathing a sigh of relief she looked over at the alarm clock on her night table, 4:00 am read the blinding numbers. Two more hours until she had to get up for work.
It had been two months since her sister had died, and what felt like the hundredth time Sam had felt the sneaking suspicion that someone was watching her, dark eyes piercing through her watching her every move, trying to tell her something, what? She didn’t know, she only hoped for it to stop.
All too soon came the shrill ring of her alarm, 6:00 am always came to early. Groaning, Sam slowly rolled out of bed and went out to the kitchen to start her coffee pot. An hour later she was fully dressed in dark blue jeans, heeled boots and a brown jacket, sitting in front of a half drank coffee and a smothering cigarette only wishing she were somebody else.
“Good morning Ms. Rose! Ready to get to work! hollered Arthur, her co-worker. Sam quietly mumbled back a reply, Arthur was the favoured, hard working person at the office that no one could stand, but who the boss loved.
Sam worked for the Seattle times, as a reporter. As a child she wanted nothing more than to work for a newspaper, to write about the events that took place in the city in which she lived. Now grown up and fully understanding the downfalls of the career she chose, she loathes her job. There are too many heartbreaking stories, so many people she has to upset in order to get her paper written. She hated falling asleep at night with images of the murders she had to write about, the car crashes, the suicides. However, she did what she had to in order to live in this constant money-gobbling economy. Sitting at her desk staring down at the stories scattering her desk wondering which she should read first she hear Mr. Devon, her boss call her into his office. “I want you to do a report on Shannon Rose” he told her solemnly. Sam’s breath caught in her through and chills were sent down her spine when she heard those words travel from his lips, she wished and hoped with all her might that she did not just hear him say that, but then he continued. “I know this must be hard for you, in light of what has recently happened. I thought about giving this story to someone else but truthfully, you need this Samantha. Lately you have been doing poorly and giving me almost nothing to publish, I understand it’s been a difficult time for you but I’m telling you now this story is the last thing that could save your career” Sam couldn’t believe what she was hearing, having to write a report on her sisters death, she couldn’t imagine anything worse. “Sam.. The media is going crazy over it, they want to know what really happened” “what do you mean what happened!” exclaimed Sam “my sisters death was an accident!” but the look in his eyes argued otherwise, without him having to say a word. As painful as Sam knew this story would be, she agreed to write it.