Possession II: Claire's Revenge

Zac stormed down the hallway, and nearly ripped the pay phone out of the wall as he grabbed it. He dug through his pockets for change, then automatically dialed Issac's number.

If anyone can help, it's big brother.

Isaac's voice came across the line, causing Zac to let out a small breath of relief. He loosened his grip on the phone, and spoke quietly into the reciever. "Hello? Isaac? It's Zac."

"Hey little bro! What's up? You sound upset." Isaac observed.

"Just a bit. Taylor's at it again. This time he is certain that Sara, my new girlfriend is Claire Hatchett." He switched the phone to his other ear, and dug through his pocket for a peice of gum. "Isaac, I don't know what's wrong with him lately. He is still certain that Claire is after him again. He thinks she is calling him and writing him letters....I think it's about time you came down and we all talked to him. He's getting out of hand."

"Well, I guess Monica and I could come down to the university for the three day weekend. We didn't have anything else planned."

Zac chewed thoughtfully on the gum. "Great. Just don't tell Tay you're coming if he happens to call you. I don't want him to get scared off."

There was silence on Isaac's end of the line, then he spoke softly. "Zac, are you sure Taylor's concerns aren't just nuts? What if somehow Claire....."

He rolled his eyes. Have both my brothers gone crazy?

"Isaac, Claire Hatchett is in jail. There is no chance that she could get to a phone to make calls, let alone stalk Taylor again. There is no reason for concern." He blew a bubble, popping it loudly into the reciever. "Besides, she knows not to mess with the Zac man. She's probably still got a bump on her head from that vent cover." He snorted.

Isaac gave a chuckle. "In any case, Monica and I will be down there by tommorow. I'll see you then."

"All righty. Bye." Zac hung up the pay phone, and bent down to tie his shoe, blowing another bubble.

The pay phone rang loudly, inturrupting the silence of the corridor. Zac lifted his head, then stood to answer it. From time to time, students would call there, expecting someone to be waiting for their call.

"Yo." He said cheerfully.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then a song came over the line that made his stomach turn. For years, the mere begining notes of that song could strike fear in the deepest part of his heart.

Possession.

He almost dropped the phone before regaining his composure. This can't be real. Someone is obviously playing a joke on me here.

"Ha. ha." He laughed dryly. "Look, I don't have time for games okay. What is this, some kind of frat prank? Mess around with Zac Hanson's mind for initiation?"

A cool, familiar female voice answered. "I'm not messing with your mind Zac. I just don't like it when people talk about me behind my back."

Zac gave a cruel snort. "Is this supposed to scare me? Claire Hatchett probably can't even dail a phone anymore, let alone ring me up and scare me. I'm sure the electro shock therapy has some long lasting effects."

"There you go again. At least this time you're talking to my face." She answered, and Zac felt his stomach drop again.

"I don't think this is very funny, next time, put some more effort into it." He growled, turning his head away from the phone to blow another bubble.

"And don't blow bubbles while you're talking to someone. That's rude."

What in the.....?!

He whirled around, half expecting to see Claire standing behind him. The hallway was empty except for a nearby plant, unwatered and weak looking in the corner. No windows or doors were in the vicenity, and no one could possibly have seen him.

"Ohhh....Did I scare you Zac?" The caller asked. "I'm sorry. Maybe that bump on my head from the vent cover you whacked me with is acting up again."

"Go prank call someone else." Zac whispered. "I'm through with this call."

He hung up the phone, and ran out the apartment doors, into the morning air. If anything was going to get that call out of his mind, it was a nice long jog. And maybe a visit to his girlfriend, who was probably still alseep in bed.

The library was almost completely empty, and Taylor felt a little uneasy sitting alone at his table. It was well past closing time, and he had to bribe the librarian to let him stay. Sleep may be important, but not as important as the twenty page term paper he had to write on Shakespeare. He had been buried in serveral of his books for the past few hours and was not enjoying it. The words and phrases were making absolutely no sense at all to him. He had just about reached his peak level of frustration reading all these books; any minute now he could have some crazy outburst and scare off the few people in the library.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once." He slowly read outloud.

He slammed the book down agaisnt the table. "What in God's name is that supposed to mean?!"

A girl seated a few tables away looked up from her thick book and smiled at him. He hadn't realized that he had been that loud, and blushed slightly. She went back to her book, gently pushing her thick rimmed glasses back up her nose with her free hand. Her dark hair was cut in choppy layers around her ears, but it was shiny, and very beautiful. Taylor tried to tear his eyes away from her, but just couldn't; she was gorgeous.

Abruptly, she brought her eyes to his again, they were a brillant deep brown color, fringed with dark lashes. His breath caught in his throat as she smiled, displaying a row of perfect, white teeth, and he swallowed hard before looking back down at his book again.

After allowing a few painfully long minutes to pass, he rose his eyes up from the book to stare at her again.

She was gone.

Frantically, he searched the library with his eyes, and didn't see her anywhere. The only other person in there was the old librarian, Mrs. White, who was busy catalouging non-fiction books about fifteen feet away. She stood balanced percarisously on a rustly old ladder, reaching for a new book every now and then. She had been working there for years.....He stopped thinking about the old librarian and turned his thoughts instead to the girl he had just seen.

Who was she? Did she think I was cute? Does she think I'm crazy? Does she squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle or at the bottom?

"Mr. Hanson?" An withered old hand fell on his shoulder and he almost fell out of his chair with shock. A glance up confirmed that it was merely Mrs. White, holding a thick stack of Shakespeare's books. "Are you done in here? I would like to lock up now."

He looked around for the girl again, then relented and admitted that he would probably never see her again. Even though he really did want to.

"Mrs. White? Who was that girl sitting there a few minutes ago?" He asked her the old woman, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

Mrs. White looked at the table where the girl had been sitting and smiled warmly. "She is a very sweet girl. I hired her to help me in the library about a year or two ago." She threw Taylor a wink. "Cute isn't she?"

He blushed deeply. "Eh....Yeah. She is." He said softly, while backing towards the door.

It seemed like such a long time ago since he had a date. Everytime he got the courage up to ask some girl out, they would almost laugh as they replied no. Things had gotten so out of hand lately, and he felt as if he life was crumbling down around him. He used to be so sure of himself, so confindent in who he was and what he life was about. But since college started, everything had been going wrong. People talked. There was an endless stream of gossip that never seemed to miss anyone. Even the newest freshmen knew all about 'crazy Tay' and his wild antics.

But was he really crazy? There was always a chance that Claire could has escaped prison. He never wanted to think about that possibility, but how could she have called and written letters to him from inside the institution? It was impossible. She had to have escaped, but in the back of his mind, he knew he would rather be crazy than have that psycho after him again.

He pushed the library doors open and walked into the chilly night air, surveying the campus around him. The frat houses had begun their parties, and the warm glow of them seemed to beckon his toward a night of non stop drinking and no fear of anything.

More than he wanted to forget about his life though, he wanted to protect Zac. And Issac too, wherever he was at the moment. He had gotten himself hitched about two months ago, to a real sweet girl from New York. If there affections at the wedding were any clue, they were probably still on the honeymoon.

With a deep breath, he took off across campus, heading towards his home. If luck was on his side, Zac would be still up, and they could have a nice long talk.

"He isn't well. He's lonely. And scared. And....."

"Deranged?" Sara offered, squeezing Zac's hand under the table. He gave her a sideways smirk and brushed the blond hair out of his eyes with a free hand. His class ring glinted brightly under the kitchen lights.

"Yeah. That too." He stated plainly, bringing his chocolate brown eyes to Isaac's.

"I understand that you have reason to be concerned. So far what I've heard of him causes me to believe that he might be going insane too." Isaac admitted. "But we still don't know if his fear is for a good reason or not." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes gently. "What if Claire is stalking Taylor again? What if she has escaped?" He wondered aloud. Monica, his wife, looked at him with compassion, and lay a hand on his thigh.

"Ike, I think if that girl had escaped prison, they would at least call to let you know." She assured him.

"You've got a point Monica. She did swear revenge on Taylor." She paused momentarily, then continued speaking. "Or...um....so I hear anyway." Sara agreed. "I don't see any reason why they wouldn't call us if that happened."

Issac tilted his head to the side slightly and looked at Zac questioningly. "Are you absolutely positive that Claire hasn't made any calls here? I don't want to think of my brother as crazy, I never have. I don't think Taylor would just make something like that up."

Zac looked down at the table, thinking of the phone call he recieved yesterday from someone claiming to be Claire. The entire ordeal had given him a bad feeling and he didn't like the fact that he was hiding it from his family. There was no cause for alarm, he assured himself. It was just a prank.

The door opened then, and Taylor strolled into the room. He grinned when he saw Isaac and Monica at the kitchen table and set his keys down on the coffee table. "Hey! I didn't know you two were visiting this weekend." He called, walking into the kitchen.

He spotted Sara sitting next to Zac at the table and nearly screamed. Backing up, he almost toppled over a chair that Isaac had pulled out for him. "Claire!" He accused, pointing a finger at her.

Zac stood up, still clutching Sara's hand. "This is Sara, Tay. You met her already. She isn't Claire."

Taylor shook his head wildly, blond locks falling into his face. "No way. You're a liar! I could never forget her face! You are Claire Hatchett pretending to be someone else!"

Sara rolled her blue eyes in an exaggerated way. "Taylor. I am not Claire. My name is Sara. Try to remember it for more than ten seconds this time."

Taylor jumped away from her and picked up a nearby cordless phone. "Just try and stop me from calling the police this time Claire! You are going back to jail where you belong!"

"I don't have to take this anymore. I'm leaving." Sara declared with tears in her eyes. "Zac, don't follow me. I just want to be alone for a while. I'll come back." She rose out of her chair and walked out the door, leaving her jacket and purse on the table.

"Thanks for scaring off my girlfriend Taylor, I really appreciate it." Zac uttered in a sarcastic tone.

Taylor grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders, and shook him. "It's not your girlfriend, it's Claire! I'm trying to help you Zac! I don't want you hurt! Can't you see she is only using you to get to me?!"

Isaac watched the argument, amused. The girl had seemed entirely too angry at Taylor making these accusations about her, but Zac was even madder. Zac kept trying to calm Taylor down, making sitting guesters with his hands and repeating the phrase, 'let's just sit and talk about this'. He gazed over at his wife, who looked extremely uncomfortable watching the fight. Just when he was about to reach for her hand and whisper that is was just a phase, he heard the tiny jingle of a cellular phone in his pocket.

Isaac reached down and unfolded his cell, standing up to take the call in the next room. Whoever it was didn't need to hear Taylor and Zac screaming at each other. It wouldn't do good for the sales of their next record. He ended up in the guest bedroom he and Monica were sharing for the weekend, surrounded by the masses of suitcases his wife insisted on taking.

"Hello?" He asked, once they were out of earshot and he had closed the door behind him.

"Isaac. Nice to hear your voice after all this time." an unrecognizable voice said over the line. For a split second, he thought it might be an ex girlfriend, unaware of his marriage.

"Yes, I've been busy lately. How have you been?" He inquired, fishing for information. Maybe she would give him a hint as to who she was and save him the embarrasment of asking.

A sigh came from the girl on the phone. "I got to tell you Ike, not so good. It's no fun having the cops always on your tail." She snapped. "And I don't like the fact that everyone seems to know about me and your brother either!"

Isaac narrowed his eyes in confusion and gripped the tiny phone tighter in his hands. "Who are you and how did you get this number?" He demanded, peeking out the door to verify that his family was still in the kitchen.

"How did I get this number?" She snorted rudely. "I'm not an idiot Isaac. I know things like that. It's a lot easier than you might think. I don't believe you should be underestimating me when you're in your position."

"Who are you?" He repeated, raising his voice slightly and looking out the dark windows, searching for a group of kids trying to prank him.

"Don't bother looking out the windows Isaac. You're aren't going to find me." The girl informed him, and he nearly dropped the phone, shutting the curtains tightly. "I'm insulted that you don't remember me. I know Taylor does. Maybe this will refresh your memory." She wondered.

The line was silent for a moment, then Sara McLauchlin's "Possession" began playing over the phone. Claire's signiture song. The song I dread hearing almost every day of my life....It can't be her. There is no way it could be Claire.... He assured himself.

"Claire?" He whispered softly, hoping for someone to start laughing. Nothing was heard from the other end of the line but the song, and he assumed that they must have left the room. Isaac hurridly pressed "end" on the cell phone and shoved the phone into his pocket again.

He gave a shaky breath and sank down into the chair beside the bed. In all the years that Claire had been stalking Taylor, she never once called him or Zac. It was just Taylor. And all her threats to Taylor had been more along the lines of 'love me or die'. If it had in fact been Claire calling just now, she wasn't after Taylor for love anymore. She was after revenge.

Still shaken, he wandered into the kitchen. Sara had returned to the house, and sat at Zac's side, glaring feircly at Taylor from across the table. Monica looked pale and almost as shaken as himself, and Zac just looked exsausted from the fight with Taylor.

He didn't say a word, but wandered out the front door and into the hallway. Several feet away was the only payphone in the building. Isaac reached the phone and felt himself go sick to the stomach.

The phone was off the hook and a tape recorder was lying next to the reciever. Possession was still playing. Whoever called had either just left the building, or been there the entire time. She couldn't have had enough time to leave the apartment building without being seen by Sara, who was either outside or in the hallway at the time, could she?

"Who was on the phone?" Sara asked, still glaring at Taylor.

Isaac paused and looked at the girl curiously. "A wrong number."

Once in a lifetime, something extrodinary happens to certain people. They are born with amazing talent, begging to be used. They have the ability to chage someone else's life, make a sad person laugh. This talent can be the talent of acting ability, art, or even singing. Some call it fame, others call it destiny.

Taylor Hanson refers to it as hell.

He was flogged by reporters while walking out the apartment doors. They shoved microphones into his face and frantically asked him questions and directions.

"Taylor! Is there a special someone in your life?"

"Taylor! Over here! It's Liza!"

"Taylor! Smile for me baby!" Followed by a few blinding flashes, which caused him to see spots for the remainder of the day.

Usually, all the questions were ignored and he would just smile and wave, but one question in paticular caught his interest.

"Is it true that you have a stalker, Taylor?" a reporter with eager eyes asked, hopeful for a juicy story.

Taylor stared at the reporter for a long time before answering. "No. I do not have a stalker."

They continued to shout questions, but he ingnored them and went to the mailbox to retreive the mail for that day. It was a relitively small mailbox which held the mailboxes to all of the apartment buildings. As he approaced it, a feeling of fear crept into his stomach again. Would there be a letter from her again?

He opened the mailbox with the designated key and sifted through the mail. A bill from the phone company, Zac's weekly Victoria Secret catalouge, A letter from mom and dad....and one unmarked letter, except for one small word, printed in familiar loopy handwriting: Taylor.

Closing his eyes, he willed the letter to go away. It was things like this that made him believe that Claire really was after him again. He would rather be crazy than the opposite extreme. If luck and God were on his side, when he opened up his eyes, he would find only bills and catalouges in his hands.

He opened his eyes and found the letter still in his hands.

"Damn."

She didn't even recognize herself anymore.

In the event of her escape, she had to change her appearence, and change her outlook on a relashionship with a very special man. Taylor was everything to her, and yet, he had treated her so horribly. She was sent off to that awful institution, where they probed her brain for reason and whispered about her behind her back.

"Idiots. All of them." She screeched, throwing her brush at the mirror.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to bust out of that place. Just get friendly with a guard or two....Gain connections with the other inmates, and you were home free.

She looked around the room. Not much of a home either. Still tacked up on her walls were her pictures of Taylor, some from magazines, some from real life. Most were recent pictures, but she had to be so careful to get those. It was a small room, and there really wasn't much space to do anything in there, let alone continue her relashionship with Taylor.

None of this was her fault. She knew she never should have been sent to that institution in the first place. Her and Taylor could be married by now....but no. He had to get her arrested!

With her fists clenched tightly, she sat down on her makeshift bed, which was pushed up against the wall and sighed. She was running out of time to put her plan together, and if she didn't gather up the nerve before Sunday, there was no way she would be able to pull through with everything she wanted to accomplish.

She wasn't stupid though. Sunday was three days away, and before then, she would have a plan, and she would get revenge on her only love. And he would be sorry he ever put her through all this pain.

Reaching over to the calander, she slashed off friday, and followed the days until Sunday with her eyes.

"One day down. One to go." Claire informed herself, then grinned.

Chapters 8-11
Claire's Revenge Index
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