The Stalker

I sat at the lunch tables, as usual, chomping on my roast-beef sandwich. It was a gorgeous day as the sun glittered across the sky and as the clouds ornamented the atmosphere above. Nothing much was going on at what seemed like an ordinary day in eighth grade; however, I would soon find out that I was mistaken. At the same time, I was scrutinizing the activities that the boys and girls were participating in. Some were shooting hoops, others were playing card games, and the rest were having interactions among each other. Everything seemed ideal and typical. …