• Love is a Sin

    “Mommy, don’t leave me. I’m ‘fraid of the dark,” Stacey said almost in tears.
    This night was still and very cold. Silence blanketed the eerie scape beyond the windows. The night saw life dead.
    “I’m sorry my dear, but I need a goodnight sleep as well. I’ll come and check on you later to make sure the boogie monster hasn’t eaten you up. Sleep tight, and don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
    Janet closed the 6 year olds door. Stacey had been afraid of the dark ever since she was three - she was convinced that the boogie monster was out to get her. Into her own room now, Janet extinguished the candle on her bedside and after saying her prayers, went to sleep. Janet had glistening, brown tresses framing her gentle brown eyes, as did her daughter. She had an elegant look about her that told you she was sweet.
    Janet awoke at 12.00am to a scream coming from Stacey’s bedroom. She hurried to find out what had happened. The door was closed but opened easily. Janet ran over to the bed and frantically felt within the covers. Stacey was gone. Her baby girl was gone. She looked around the room and saw there was no sign of forced entry, just the window open, and that couldn’t open far enough for anyone to get through. Janet’s eyes circled the room in disbelief. She laughed and loudly exclaimed, “O.K the joke’s over!” She looked through the whole house thoroughly. This was no joke. Janet dropped to the hard wooden floor, her pounding head in her hands. Droplets of sweat crawled through her hair and between her fingers. Her teeth pressed hard into her swelling lips. There was not soul about the house but that of her own on this cool, suspicious night.
    The next morning there was a full scale search for Stacey from Florida to Chicago. Nothing was found. She was presumed dead.

    Chapter 1

    Her own Bookstore! What a dream. The issue desk was in the middle of the first floor which consisted of all the children’s books and the fiction opposite them. The second floor was of computers and all the non–fictional books, hollow through the center so that people could see the librarian’s desk. It had the coziest chairs in all of Florida – they were beanbags! It also had the friendliest staff.
    Unfortunately, that dream had not yet come true for Janet. She was the conservative lady of the desk. She was also the errand girl for her boss, Mr. Jameson. He was an 80 year old man that thought he was king of the world – the orderly, black and white world of his. Oh if only the decrepit old man would drop dead. That sounded cruel, but only then would Janet be her own boss. She would no longer be treated so dismissingly and finally she would have her own glorious library.
    “JANET! What are you daydreaming for, hurry up and get my heart pills. Oh, and get me a nice cream puff on your way back. STOP DILLY DALLING AND GET ON WITH IT!” screeched Mr. Jameson, his breeches in a twist.
    “Arrange your own funeral,” Janet said when she was out of hearing range from him, not that the old biddy could hear her anyway.
    Janet went off on the 15 minute walk from the library to the chemist. Suddenly a tense feeling of invasion poured over Janet, she felt like she was being followed. Her heart pounded heavily, her clothing stuck against her trembling body. She quickened her step and came to the safety of the pharmacy.
    “Hello. Heart pills for Mr. P Jameson please. Thank you,” she said and begun to look through the cosmetics.
    Janet was 5 minutes from her work when she was sure that Stacey was standing in front of her. She didn’t look much different. She still had straight, brown hair. She still had that innocent face that told you she wasn’t capable of hurting a fly. The only thing different was that she was taller, older.
    “Stacey?” There was no reply. All she had was a blank look in her eyes. Had she been brainwashed? Janet was scared, but decided to try again.
    “Stacey, it’s me, your mother. Please say something. Stacey!” she sobbed. Stacey was taken away by a man. Janet dropped her bags and lunged at the man but missed. Stacey was being taken away from her once again. A mothers’ nightmare come true. She was absolutely certain that the girl was her daughter. Other people thought differently.
    “Janet, are you alright dear? Are you sick?”
    “Mother. I’m fine. I’m sure I saw Stacey though and she was being taken away from me by some man who probably thought I was some sort of freak of nature,” Janet sighed. “I need a drink.”
    “It’s only Tuesday though. How about a nice cup of tea?” asked Trisha, Janet’s mother?
    “Mother. That was my daughter who I haven’t seen or heard from in 10 years. I do not feel like a nice cup of tea.”
    “Oh, my dear. You really are ill. That wasn’t Stacey. Stacey is dead, remember?”
    Janet looked at her mother for a long time. Had Trisha gone loopy? That was Janet’s daughter. She was sure of it. Finally she said, “I don’t have time for this. I need to get my daughter back.”
    Trisha gripped her daughters arm. She had to stay firm. Finally she said, “Janet Whitter. Go back to work and forget about her. Stacey is gone. That was not her, nor is anybody else. This isn’t healthy for you.”
    “Mom. That was her, I saw her. Maybe you should be with dad. You both belong in that mental institution,” Janet said.
    As Janet walked down the road she thought of her father. It was November 21st 1971. Janet was 6 years old when she found her father on his back having some sort of fit. He looked so useless on the tiled kitchen floor. His brown hair was scattered throughout the kitchen in threads. He screamed in agony, but Janet could see nothing wrong except for the sudden balding of him. He kept screaming ‘STOP IT! STOP IT!’ but whatever it was wouldn’t stop. Janet was scared and called for her mom. Tears began streaming down his face. He was in agonizing pain. Trisha called an ambulance and he was taken to the local hospital in intensive care. Janet was not allowed to visit. Two days later he was pronounced insane and was admitted to Florida State Hospital. Janet visited him once about 10 years later. She had never heard news of him since.
    Janet finally returned to work only to find Mr. Jameson waiting to scream at her. His pale face and old eyes were fixed on her every move. “What took you so long? I expected you back 10 minutes ago! Where are my heart pills? Where is my cream puff? WHY DID I EVEN HIRE YOU? You think just because I’m old you can dilly dally and keep me waiting!”
    “Here are your pills and your cream puff. Is there anything else Mr. Jameson?”
    “DON’T BLOODY GET SMART AT ME YOUNG LADY! DON’T YOU HAVE ANY RESPECT FOR YOUR ELDERS!?” Before Janet could say anything Jameson was gone. He disappeared into the depths of his office. Janet took her place at the counter of the book store. She found herself surprised that she could not bear to leave it. Without Mr. Jameson, it was her second home, her life. She loved the library. Her brown eyes would glow every time someone walked in to get a book. Every time she walked in those doors she felt at home. Then she would get yelled at by her ungrateful boss. She still remained grateful of her job and aware that one day soon she would own it. She would be boss. Her dream would come true.
    When it came time for her to leave at 5.00pm, Janet said goodnight to Mr. Jameson and left. She got to her car and sighed. She wished so much that he would go. She mentally slapped herself. She was supposed to be a good person! Why was she wishing an 80 year old man dead? She prayed, and then drove home, still feeling guilty about her sinister thoughts.

    It was 3.30 am the next morning when Janet got a call. She got up sleepily and went into the hallway. She picked up the phone. With a dry mouth she said, “Hello.”
    “Hello. Are you Janet?” asked the person on the other end of the receiver.
    “Yes. How may I help you?”
    “Your boss, Mr. P. Jameson has been found dead in his office. We have reason to believe that you were the last person to see him alive. Do you have anything to say about this?”
    “Who are you?”
    “Janet, we would like you to come down to the library now and confirm that the body is in fact Mr. Jameson’s. We are the Homicide Inspectors and thought you might be able to help us. We will see you shortly Janet.” The Investigator hung up the phone. Janet was worried. Did they think she had done it? Of course she hadn’t done it, but what if they did think she had done it? What would happen to her? There was only one way to find out. She had to go down there.

    It felt like a long drive to her work 15 minutes away. Janet had never faced the police before in a bad way. She was certain she was going to make a fool of herself. Finally she saw the library around the corner. She saw a whole investigation set up down there. It looked scarier in real life than what she saw on TV. There were police cars, ambulances, the yellow tape that said do not cross. A detective came over to her. He was wearing a brown dress coat over a light blue, long sleeved, collared shirt with black pants, and surprisingly shiny black leather shoes.
    “You must be Janet I presume,” he said with a serious voice. “Would you follow me please?” The detective led Janet into the library. The sight she saw was a sight only the devil himself could have made. She looked upon the walls and saw JANET WHITTER written in a dark red. Blood. She started feeling nausea. Her head spun around. The look on her face was of pure shock. The detective saw the look on her face and was convinced she had done it. He pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs and placed them around her wrist.
    “What are you doing?” Janet asked in a shaky, frightened voice.
    “Janet Whitter, I am placing you under arrest,” he said. “You have the right to remain silence. Anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
    “No! This can’t be happening. I’m a good person,” she cried trying to break free, hitting him in the stomach.
    “That is assault to a police officer ma’am. Another charge on your account.” The detective made a scared Janet get into the police car.