You Have 102 Comments on Your PageMature

You Have 102 Comments on Your Page

Chrissy Reed says: OMG Ems wtf is hapnin wit ur life at the mo??!! :O im so f'ing scared... taaalk to meeee xxxxxxx :( (Y)

Jonny Tyers says: Hahaha Emma has a stalker, Emma has a stalker!!!

Shanteen Smith says: I always told you that you shouldn't trust him, Emma. What the hell is happening anyway? Why won't you talk to us? 

X Becky McBean X says: heeeya emma, waats going on roundd here?? i was like, omg, what the hell, cos everry1 is gooing on and on and on bout how your some kindd of FREAK or something!!!??? r u ok hunni?? scribble backk xxxx *hugs*

Annie Harper says: Jeez, U R Suuch A Loserr! Y R U Bothering to Hide? Coward... :P Its Just Some Obsessed Bloke isnt It? Some Weirdo? Just set the Coppers On im. Cyaa in hell biatch :)


Dear Diary
I can't read the stuff people have written online anymore. It hurts, deep down inside somewhere, it's burning me up and I can't escape it. I know he can't possibly get to me, he's got half the Metropolitan Police on his tail now, but they don't seem to understand what he's like.
Obsessive. Like a proper stalker. Not just some drunk freak, a real stalker who has ways of getting into places. No one seems to notice him anywhere, he slips and slithers between their fingers.
I can't rely on the police anymore. They're useless really. I need someone who can actually protect me. Where can no one get in?
Or get out? ...

The Diary of Tessy R

Another BORING day at work. Nothing is happening. I just sit here at the till, scanning and smiling blandly at these hopeless people popping into the shops for their afternoon indulgences. 
I've seen at least five seriously obese lunchtime gorgers, buying chocolate and crisps to binge on before going home or back to the office. What a sad, sad world. 
I'm watching the people coming inside. All bland and boring. No one interesting, except one thin, pale girl who looks either terminally ill or mentally unstable. I should tell someone, but what's the point?
The girl is just staggering around weirdly, eyes kind of glazed over as if she's in another world or something. I can tell, this is one messed up kid. Violence at home? Abusive boyfriend?
Wait a sec. I recognise her. She's that poor gal in the paper, the one with the stalker boyfriend. Shit, what's she doing here??
What. The. Hell. I am not blind, but this kid has a  gun. I am honestly not kidding. Oh my God, where's Phil? He can call security? This kid is going to snap..!!


Inspector: So, Miss Reynolds. Can you please describe the events of this afternoon?

T Reynolds: Before we start, please may I have my diary back, sir? I don't appreciate you taking it, surley it's breaching my private...

I: Please, calm yourself. Your diary will be returned. First, I need you to answer my question. 

T R: Sorry, sorry. Okay, so first I notice something seriously not right with this kid. She's all pale and ill looking, and then I'm like, Wow!, I know her. She's the one the police are all looking after and whatever, but they can't have been doing a very good job is she was just wandering-

I: I'd rather if you kept your personal opinions to yourself, Miss Reynolds. Please continue your account. 

T R: Yes, yes, of course. She suddenly brings out this gun, and I'm like, Holy Shit!, and people start running and screaming, cos she shoots it at the roof. She looked crazy, kinda out of it, not high or drunk, but just completely frazzled, you know?

I: Mmm hmm. Carry on, if you will. 

T R: Well, you know, we all go kinda mental, and there's running and panic and confusion, and everyone's just like, what the hell is going on here? Has she, like, flipped? Gone totally insane. And then, and then...

I: It's OK, Miss Reynolds. Please pause if this is disturbing for you. 

T R: No, no, I'm no pussy. Well, she's crying like crazy, hands shaking and yelling, and she trains this gun on the easiest target, an old man, with a gummy leg so he couldn't run away. She's crying like so much, screaming and generally being, like, mad. So she points this gun, and Bang. 

I: Yes? You don't have to continue if you don't want- 

T R: I'm fine!!! Okay, okay. The shot just skims this man's arm. There's blood, and screaming and panic, and she just crumples on the floor in a big heap, yelling, 'I beat you, Callum. You can't reach me where I'm going. I'll be safe!!'

I: Do you know where she was reffering to?

T R: Isn't is obvious? The poor crazy sod shot him to get herself banged up in prison. The only way to escape, to be locked up. This is just sick, sick I'm telling you!!  

The End

54 comments about this story Feed