Infatuation

This story is a a follow up story to Captive Birth, although should probably be read before Captive Birth.

 

Carl pulled the collar of his black suede jacket up to just below his ears, while also slouching further into the front seat of his white Ford van. The dirty windows were misting up, reducing his visibility so he reached forward and turned a dial on his dash board. The vents started to rattle as hot air was blown up to the windscreen. Two hours he had been sat, parked up outside the College, waiting. He would sit and wait as long as he needed to, there was no hurry, nothing else to do. He pulled off his right ski glove, and explored his nostril with his finger. Carl's expression changed from tiredness to one of concentration. Upon extracting a rather large foreign body from his nose, a sense of achievement overcame him as he rolled and flicked his new found treasure. It landed on the floor of the passenger side where it would probably remain for a very long time as the van certainly wasn't a contender for the best kept vehicle. After he watched it land, he turned his attention back to the college gates.

 

Another couple of hours passed as Carl sat there, close to falling asleep, but his goal went unachieved. She was no where to be seen. He made a mental note to try and learn her timetable, otherwise he would have too many wasted days sat in waiting. Fumbling in his jacket inside pocket, he pulled out a black leather backed notebook.  he flicked it open at the second page and made a note.

 

"Monday, 13:30 TILL 17:15, NONE"

 

A smile formed on his face as he thought how clever his cryptic notes were in case anyone but him were to read them. He flipped the cover of the notebook shut and re-pocketed it. He turned the key that was currently in the ignition and started the engine to his van. Five more minutes went by before he indicated, and pulled out into the road, feeling disappointed.

 

 

***

 

 

It was two weeks prior that Carl had first seen Shannon. He was driving along Ranson street, on his way to work when he saw her. The long blonde hair that bounced as she took each step, the tight blue jeans that lifted and made taught her buttocks. She was beautiful in every way, from her deep blue eyes outlined with soft dark lashes, her deep red painted lips, and a smile that revealed a perfect set of bright white teeth. As his window was wound down Carl would always remember the youthfulness of her laugh as she talked to her friends on that first day. Most normal people wouldn't have looked twice, but Carl pulled his car over and watched as she walked down the street. When she had vanished round a corner, Carl was still sat there, taking in the vision that was fixed in his mind. His senses suddenly snapped back to him as he realised she had vanished, and he needed to see her again. He pulled his car out back on to the road, not even aware of other traffic; much to the dismay of the ford escort driver who had to slam on his brakes and sound his horn; and drove down the remainder of the street and turned the same corner that she had. It was then that he realised that he was on Blackett street, the street that was home to the 16 to 18 year old college. She was nowhere to be seen, so Carl assumed she must have been a student and had entered through the college gates. He was dismayed, but a smile stretched across is face, as a twisted idea sprang forth from the depths of his mind. And so began his new schedule of waiting outside the college on a morning before work, sitting in wait for another glimpse of the girl he was later to find out was called Shannon.

 

For two weeks now, he had made daily trips to the college, trying to spy the girl he had seen that first day, stealing occasional half hour slots where he would sit outside the college, parked across the road, watching in anticipation. Carl realised he was becoming obsessed, but it seemed to inflate his happiness, so he went with it. He had gone from being a lowly factory worker at the local bottle plant, to someone with a purpose. He didn't care that it was starting to affect his job, frequently turning up late, getting in trouble for drifting off at his station. He felt alive. It didn’t matter that he had not actually seen her again since that first time, he would persist, he thought, till she appeared before him. It wasn't till the second week that the frustration began to surface. He had not seen her again, and was starting to realise that the occasional visits he was making might not be enough. He needed to step up his game.

 

He became jobless on the Thursday of the second week. Carl was manning his station in the bottle factory. His job was to keep an eye on the bottles as they passed on the conveyor belt, every once and a while some bottles would need to be righted after a fall, and sometimes they would need to be shuffled along and guided into the narrowing section of the conveyor belt ready for labelling. This particular Thursday was no different to any other day at work. He was sat, watching the green bottles travel past him, occasionally he would have to intervene, as if on autopilot. His mind was drifting as was the norm these days, visions of blond, full bodied hair bouncing as she walked down the street. Carl had never become so intent on anything in his life, and it felt great. As his daydream continued, he began to think about what he was going to do next. How can he devote more time to the mystery girl. He simply had to see her again. Nothing else was an option. He pondered his thoughts, maybe she didn’t go to the college. "Surely she must", he thought, then realised he actually was muttering under his breath. he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then continued with his thoughts. She had to go to the college, why else would a young girl and her two friends be walking along Blackett street at that time of the morning. So, if she was a student at the college, how come he had not seen her on a morning, and on an evening when the college must surely have opened and closed like everywhere else. He tried to picture the college and what it must be like inside, never actually being to college himself. It suddenly hit him like a brick wall at 60 Mph. College students don’t operate on a normal working day schedule. Of course, he was sure he remembered something of when he was back in school and the other kids saying how much more relaxed the academic day of a college student was. He had never really thought of it till now, as there was never any real chance of him ever going to college, he certainly wasn’t the smartest kid at school. The girl must be at college at irregular times of the day; Carl would need to find out when. “What about work?” he thought to himself, not realising he no longer needed to worry about that. As his mind shifted back into the real world, he was startled to find himself face to face with his supervisor, a big fellow with a handle bar moustache and an expression that reminded Carl of homer simpson. The supervisor was shouting something into Carls face, he could feel spittle hitting his forehead. The angry man was waving and pointing at the conveyor where a rather large pile of broken glass had begun to form. Carl just sat there, staring. “Oh well, I guess that’s it. I am fired”, he thought to himself, calmly standing up, he started to turn to leave. He wasn’t too bothered, to be honest, it was probably a good thing anyway. At least he would now be able to devote his time to better things. As he was turning, he heard something along the lines of “where do you think your going, mother f****r” and a hand grabbed him forcibly on the right hand shoulder.

 

Carl snapped. As quick as a light switch flicks on, he turned round. The expression on Carls face would be imprinted on the Supervisors face for years to come. With a look of pure hatred, and anger, Carl swiftly brought his forehead upon the nose of his boss. In an instant, blood expelled like a paintball across the super’s face. There was a scream, but Carl could not tell if it came from him, his victim, or the crowd that had started to gather. As the bloodied hulk of a man hit the floor, Carl proceeded to kick and stomp the man. Once to the face, and repeatedly in the chest and stomach. After a while, he stopped. His breathing was calm, as if he hadn’t even broken a sweat. He turned and headed for the door, noticing as he went a couple of people from the factory shop floor moving in the direction of the heap that lay on the concrete. “I wonder what time it is”, he thought, “I think I will swing by the college.” He walked out the factory door and headed for his Van.

 

Two hours later, he was sat in his Van, opposite the college gates, waiting for his prize to appear. It was to be a long wait.

 

 

***

 

 

Carl was sat in the dark, musty atmosphere of his one bed roomed flat on the corner of Townsend Terrace. He was flicking through his notebook. Quite a number of scribbled pages he thought to himself. His notes were becoming fairly comprehensive now that he was able to devote a lot more hours of his day to stalking the college gates. He was frustrated that he had still not seen his prize (for that is how he saw the blonde girl now, his prize waiting to be claimed). He kept himself in a positive frame of mind by fantasising about the girl he had seen just the once. It started with innocent thoughts, dreams and images of simply talking to her. Introducing himself.

 

“Hi, my names Carl. I am pleased to meet you.”

 

As his frustration built, his thoughts had become more heated, it no longer being enough to talk to her, he imagined kissing her, touching her, undressing her. He was now so frustrated that his thoughts were purely pornographic about the girl, with Carl frequently masturbating in his flat, thoughts of the young girl, naked, in his arms. He had never experienced such passionate thoughts, it seemed to be eating away at him from the inside, his every minute of existence devoted to that one goal, to see her again. 

 

Four weeks after seeing Shannon for the first time, he caught a break. Carl was sat in his van, further down Blacket street, so it would look suspicious his van being in the same spot everyday, but still so he could see the entrance to the college. He had his window wound down and Lynyrd Skynyrd was playing on the radio. He didn’t have the volume up very loud, but it must have been loud enough for passers by to hear it. He was staring at the gates, transfixed by the lack of anything interesting, when he heard a voice by his window comment “Oh yay, I think this song is amazing!”

 

He looked around to see three girls leaning against the half height garden wall he was positioned outside. There was his prize stood in the middle of them, looking straight at him, smiling.   Her hair as blonde as he remembered, her ruby red painted lips, her fascinating curves visible under her tight fitting clothes. Perfection, he thought. Her head was slowly bobbing to the music playing from his Vans stereo, her friends were giggling, glancing back and forth between Shannon and Carl. Carl’s pulse became extremely loud in his head, he felt hot, he could feel a bulging in his jeans. He could see only Shannon, his mind blocked out everything else. She was the world to him, nothing else mattered. He was stareing at her intensly, he could see her lips moving, but he could not hear what she was saying. The loud pulsing in his ears seemed to block out all noise. Her smile faded as he watched, she was becoming agitated. He started to feel panic as his hearing seemed to return on cue.

 

“Come on Shannon, lets leave this loser alone, we will be late.”

 

Shannon laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh, it seemed to contain malice, was she mocking Carl. Carl’s face changed, his emotions turning in an instant from pure desire, to hatred. Before he could even respond, the three girls were walking off; Carl watched them, with evil in his eye. His heart felt wounded, like it had been pierced straight through with a nife,  why was she laughing at him. Had he said something strange, as far as he could remember he had not even spoke. In his angry haze, he tried to work out what had just happened. His eyes observed them enter the college gates. Pulling out his notebook and pen, he turned to the very first page which he had already reserved, and scribbled in big angry letters, “Shannon”. When he had finished writing, he felt himself calm slightly. “I have a name to put to the face” he muttered under his breath. He again thought of the events that had transpired. She had liked the music, so why had she laughed at him. What was it that she was saying, that Carl didn’t hear. Maybe it was her friends, maybe she was embarrassed in front of them. Yes, that’s it. I must somehow get Shannon on her own. Yes, that’s what I must do. A smile returned to his face, a sly smile as the cogs of his mind had started to turn once again.

Author's Note

I am not totally happy with this, but I am not sure I wanted to spend much longer on it.