You Never Can Say Goodbye 2 - 1. You Never Can Say Goodbye 2

Chapter 1: A Random Encounter

I had just returned home after graduating from college and was planning on taking a short break so I could have some fun before I started looking for a job. I felt I had earned the right to relax and enjoy life for a while since I'd just spent four years studying and meeting all of the course requirements to earn my bachelor's degree.

When I first got home, most of my old friends from high school were there too. They were either home for the summer before returning to college or just taking a few weeks off before starting a job. Seeing there were so many people around that I knew and was friendly with, the first part of the summer was a blast. It was a series of cookouts, parties, clubbing, and even a few road trips as we headed to the beach, amusement parks, and other places where those our age tended to hang out. As the summer progressed, however, all of the good times began to wind down. Slowly, those beginning their careers left the area, and then those returning to college took off to go back to their campuses. It didn't take long after they left before I became hopelessly bored.

I spent my days walking around and stopping at various corporations and employment agencies to fill out applications and drop off my resume, but the employment prospects weren't very good. After doing this for a few weeks and wallowing in self-pity about my bad luck, I decided it was time to get out of the house and start meeting new people. I had been out since my freshman year in high school, so everyone around, including my parents, knew about my sexual orientation and I didn't have to hide who I was. That's why I felt the best place to meet someone compatible was at a gay establishment, but that wasn't going so well either. I was just about ready to give up when I learned that one of the local gay bars was sponsoring a Halloween costume night and the first drink was free to everyone in costume, so I decided to go and give it one more try.

Since I didn't have a lot of time or money to pull this off, I looked online to get an idea for a costume. When I found a concept I liked, I modified it to fit my budget and got busy. I had to buy a few items to pull this off, but they weren't expensive. All it took was a long-sleeve black sweatshirt, a white ski cap, and a small amount of white foam material from the fabric store, along with some paint. Then, I told my mother what I was going to do and asked for her help.

Thank God my mom is creative and artistic, because I couldn't have pulled it off without her. First, she took the fluorescent red, orange, and yellow paints I'd purchased and painted some very realistic flames on the front, back, and sleeves of the sweatshirt, and they went from the waist to the neck. While she was doing that, I dug out the old black safety back belt my father used to wear when working at a previous job, and I made some three-dimensional cardboard rocks to attach to it. Mom helped me do that using safety pins, but only after she painted the rocks gray. She also had me go back to the store and buy some black paint too, so she could add some shading to the rocks. Finally, she helped me secure the white foam material to the ski cap so it looked like a giant marshmallow, and I had my costume - a marshmallow roast.

Early on Halloween night, I slipped on the sweatshirt and grabbed the other items to put on after I drove to the gay bar. I did that because I didn't want to crush the rocks on the belt, and the marshmallow would have been smashed between my head and the roof of the car, so I'd finish dressing when I got there. When I got out of the car, I fastened the belt around my waist first, which was easy to do since it fastened with VELCRO, and then I slipped the ski cap over my head so the marshmallow was sitting above the fire. Once I was ready, I made my way to the bar.

I received several positive and complimentary comments when I first entered, which pleased me. I wouldn't have been able to pull this off without my mom's help, and she'd obviously done a very good job. I was sitting at the bar and nursing my free drink when I saw a cute guy enter. He walked up and sat down at the other end of the bar and began chatting with the bartender. Being shy, I was hesitant about going over and introducing myself, but in the end it wasn't necessary. He eventually picked up his drink and began walking around the place so he could see who else was there.

When he got down to my end of the bar we made eye contact, and then he walked over and spoke. "You look like hot stuff," he began, and I knew he was referring to my costume.

"Yes, everyone likes to roast marshmallows. So who are you supposed to be, The Phantom of the opera?" I said this because he was wearing a white shirt, black bowtie, and top hat, but he also had a black cape fastened around his shoulders.

"No! I'm Dr. Jekyll... and Mr. Hyde." As he said this he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a metal flask. After he unscrewed the cap, he pretended to take a drink - at least I thought he was pretending, and then he reached up and spun his top hat around. After he did that a hideous mask covered his face, transforming him into Mr. Hyde. The mask was fastened to the opposite end of the top hat so he could make the change quickly and easily.

"Not bad, and cleverly done."

"I'm glad you approve," he stated as he swung the mask out of the way again. "I'd like to get to know you better, as long as I don't get burned." He giggled and pretended to use his hand to see how hot the flames were. "I'm Clark Reistetter, and I'm glad to meet you. Do you come here often?"

"Not really. I'm Mason Wharley, and I've only been here a few times before. I've been away at school for the past four years and just returned home for good this past summer, after graduating. Since I wasn't old enough to drink until this year, I've only been coming here the past couple of months."

"You just graduated? From where?" he followed, sounding interested.

"Duke," I answered, and he started to grimace.

"I guess that makes us rivals, because I attended North Carolina State," he replied with a touch of sarcasm. As he had been walking over, I'd noticed that Clark was a little taller than average, about six-feet, two-inches (188 cm) in height, and he had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. They were set off nicely against his raven-colored hair and five-o'clock shadow. He was slender, but not skinny, and appeared to be quite fit. "Are you really a devil, though?" Clark teased.

I knew this was a playful attempt at making a pass at me, as well as seeing if I was up to being a little wicked while teasing me about my school's nickname. I quickly thought about how I was going to respond to his query.

"Going to Duke made me a Blue Devil, but I guess I have enough of the real thing in me to ensure that I have a good time whenever I go out," I joked, while waiting to see how he was going to react to my not-so-subtle meaning. He immediately sat down on the bar stool next to mine and got comfortable.

"Hmmm. It sounds like you might be worth getting to know then. I guess my first impression was correct and you are hot after all," he countered playfully as he did a quick visual inspection of my assets.

"Since you went to N. C. State, does it mean you're a wolf?" I countered, referring to his alma mater's nickname. I was also busy trying to figure out what had attracted him to me, since I didn't think it was merely the costume. I have to admit that I've never considered myself 'hot' or a 'catch', although I felt I was decent looking. I was a little shorter than he was, at five-feet, eleven-inches (180 cm) tall, and I had mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes, which might have appeared to be singed by the fire on my costume. I didn't have much facial hair either, unlike him, but I was in decent shape since I'd played soccer in high school and college.

"I'm definitely part of the Wolfpack, but I guess I can be a pretty aggressive wolf at times too," he answered with a wink. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," I agreed before giving the bartender my order.

"So what was your major?" he asked as we were sipping our drinks.

"I was an economics major with a math minor." I couldn't help but wondered if he was truly interested in what my degree was in, or if he was just trying to keep the conversation going. "What was yours?"

"Damn, that's some pretty serious shit." I was confused about what he meant by his response. Was it admiration, or was he disgusted by the subjects I majored in?. I didn't have time to consider this in more detail, however, because he started speaking again. "I was a computer science major. I guess I'm a bit of a technology geek because I like messing around with all my hi-tech toys."

We talked about a lot of different things after that, such as comparing our college experiences and discussing what we liked best and least about the years we'd spent there. We even compared what it had been like when we came out and discussed some of our early attempts at exploring our sexuality, but we didn't go into detail about our sexual exploits. When the conversation began to wane, he asked if I wanted to dance and I accepted his offer. I took off the belt with the rocks and set them on the bar stool, because it would have been awkward to dance with those around my waist. He had some pretty good moves on the dance floor too, and it didn't take long for me to realize that he was a pretty 'hands on' sort of guy and liked to make body contact.

At first it was just the touch of his fingers as they slid over my arm or hand, but he would also casually brush up against me with his body before he started to get even more aggressive. This happened when he moved behind me while we were dancing, and then he began to rub the front of his body against the back of mine. At the same time, his hands began to rub up and down my spine, along my arms and even across my butt before he wrapped his arms around my chest so he could start exploring that area as well. He never overtly reached for my crotch, though, but after he moved in front of me again he made sure our junk was rubbing against one another as we danced.

Even though I thought he was moving a little quickly at times, I still had a good time while we were together. When I got ready to leave, he asked if I wanted to go back to his place and spend the night. Although I'd enjoyed myself, I felt it was a little too soon to be making that kind of move, so I quickly made up an excuse to avoid putting myself in that situation. I told him that I had an interview in the morning and needed to go home so I'd be able to shower, put on my suit, and get to my appointment on time. He seemed disappointed and asked if I'd be returning there again in the near future, and I told him I would, so he said he'd see me around then. I merely grabbed the rest of my costume and took off.

After I went home and hopped into bed, my head was still spinning, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol I had consumed. I was also confused by the attention Clark had been showing me. Was he thinking that we might be compatible, and was he actually interested in pursuing a relationship, or was he merely looking for a quick hookup and score? I didn't want him to think I was easy or some sort of boy toy that he could merely play with whenever he wanted, but his actions had me confused. Was he truly interested in me as a person, or was he just looking for someone to take to bed so he could get his rocks off?

I didn't go back to the bar during the following week and opted to spend my time doing job searches online and calling different places to see if they had any openings. I would ask to speak with someone in the Human Resources department, and then I'd tell that person about my degree. I'd follow it up by asking if they had any current or projected openings that I might be suited for, and if they did, I would give them my name and cell number. I also promised to send them my resume and cover letter, and asked if they would prefer me to send it through the U.S. mail or in an email, and then I'd thank them for their time.

I kept pressing to find a job and realized I couldn't wait much longer before I started to work. I had college loans to pay off and would need a paycheck to do that, so I kept focused on my task.

On Friday night I decided that I needed to get out for a while, so I went back to the same bar again and spotted Clark the moment I walked through the door. He was sitting at the bar, and even though the place was pretty crowded, he seemed to be ignoring everyone else who was there. He had been focused on the front door and immediately smiled when I entered. His face seemed to completely light up when he spotted me, and he waved me over to join him.

"I was wondering if you were going to show up again." After saying this, he signaled for me to sit down on the stool next to him. "I've been here every night waiting to see you again."

"Really? That's sweet."

"Do you want the same thing you were drinking on Halloween?"

I nodded, and he ordered each of us a drink. We didn't say very much after that and merely sipped our drinks as we considered how we should proceed from here.

"Do you want to dance?" he finally asked to end the lengthy and awkward silence.

"Yeah, ok,"

After we got to the dance floor, he picked up where he'd left off on Halloween. He immediately began to rub against me starting with the first dance, and he also started asking me for more details about my life. He wanted to know where I lived, if I had any brothers or sisters, and he also wanted my phone number. I didn't want to give him too much information so soon, but he was really sweet about it, so I finally gave in. I took his phone and entered my name and cell number in it, while he did the same with my phone. That seemed to please him, but he suddenly became upset when I refused his offer to go home with him afterward. I thought fast and told him that I'd agreed to go on a trip with my parents this weekend and we were leaving early in the morning. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't push the issue, so I told him I'd probably see him the following weekend.

The next couple of weekends went about the same, with us spending time together at the bar and then Clark would try to get me to go home with him afterward, but I kept putting him off. Eventually, I decided that he seemed nice enough, and I was definitely attracted to him, so the weekend after Thanksgiving I finally accepted his offer to spend the night.

Although I'd been worried about doing this, the night was incredible. I'd been with other guys before, and I definitely wasn't a virgin, but Clark made me feel things like never before. I not only spent Friday night with him, but I willingly stayed the entire weekend at his place. It was clear to me that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.

I was in heaven and basically walking on air for the next couple of months, which took us through the holidays and into the new year. Not only did I have a great boyfriend and a fantastic sex life, but he also helped me get a job with the same tech company that he worked for. Although we worked in the same building, we were in different departments, but we were able to ride to and from work together. Shortly thereafter, I agreed to move in with him.

Everything was going fine until one afternoon when I went to lunch with my manager and two of my co-workers. Clark must have seen us leaving the building, since his department was located along the back wall on the second floor and overlooked the parking lot. He confronted me about it on the ride home that night.

"Who was that guy you were so friendly with when I saw you leaving at lunchtime?"

"Clark, that was my boss and two of my co-workers." I wondered where this was coming from. "I wasn't being overly friendly with anyone in particular, but we were all in a good mood since our manager was taking us out to lunch. It was a reward for a project we'd just completed, and our boss was raving that we'd done an exceptional job."

"Mace, I saw how close you two were sitting in the back seat of the car."

I looked at him in amazement and immediately noticed the muscles in his body tensing up. His face was also starting to turn a reddish hue, as the blood rushed to it.

"We weren't sitting close at all. He sat on one side of the seat, and I sat on the other." I couldn't believe how he was acting.

"It looked to me that both of you slid a little closer to each other after you closed the doors."

I knew he was accusing me of cheating on him. "It was just your imagination. Hell, I'm positive the guy is straight, and I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend."

"Sure he does." Besides mockingly my response, he made a face that told me he didn't believe what I'd just said.

It was only the beginning of the downward spiral in our relationship. After that, I caught Clark checking my cell phone so he could see the call log and read the text messages to see who I'd been in contact with. I think he also tried to figure out my password so he could listen to my voice mails as well, but I don't think he was able to do that. If this wasn't bad enough, I also noticed him walking by my department several times during the workday. Since we didn't work on the same floor, seeing I worked on the floor above him, it was obvious what he was doing. It caused me to have serious doubts now as to whether I'd made a wise decision by moving in with him. Perhaps I should have taken his Halloween costume as a warning sign.

One day I decided to call my mother while I was at work so I could ask her to do me a favor. I wanted her to call that evening after I got home from work and asked her to invite me to a cookout at the house on the weekend, because I wanted to see how Clark was going to react. It would also get me away from him and give me a little breathing room for a while, because I was beginning to feel suffocated by his constant surveillance and hovering over me.

When she called later, Clark listened in as I spoke with my mother. "Sure, Mom. That sounds great. I haven't spent much time with you and Dad lately, so this will work out fine. What time do you want me to show up on Saturday... Ok, Mom, I'll see you then. Love you."

"Who were you talking to?" Clark demanded as soon as I'd ended the call.

"Didn't you hear me say 'Mom' a couple of times?" I was irritated by both his question and his attitude.

"Yeah, but was that really who you were talking to?" He was acting as if he didn't believe me.

"Of course it was. I don't go around calling anyone else 'Mom', except for my mother."

"What did she want?" He was eyeing me suspiciously.

"She invited me over for a family cookout on Saturday." I chose to tell him only as much as I needed to.

"Am I invited too?" It was clear he didn't trust me to do this alone. I had a feeling he thought I was meeting someone else.

"I said it was a family cookout. She thinks we're only roommates, so she didn't feel it was necessary to invite you as well." I knew my response would probably seem rude in a normal relationship, but I needed to get away from him for a while. "I think she wants to talk to me about my dad's birthday, which is coming up in a few weeks. Seeing Dad likes to do the grilling, I think she feels it will give us time to make plans and discuss what we're going to get him."

"So I'm not invited?" he asked again, to confirm that he was being left out. I could see he was becoming very upset.

"Not this time." I knew he was angry about this, but I felt he should be willing to allow me to have some time to myself. The only time we were ever apart up to now was over the holidays, since he spent time with his family, and while we were at work. Even then we were still in the same building, just on different floors.

He immediately stormed off to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. I didn't let it bother me, though, because by this point I was already making plans to end the relationship anyway. Going home on Saturday would also allow me to ask my parents if I could move back in, at least until I found my own place.

The rest of the work week was very tense, and Clark was in a foul mood the entire time. I knew he was upset about this weekend, but I no longer cared. You can't have a relationship without trust, and he had definitely proved he didn't trust me. I'm not going to go through life with someone who's constantly looking over my shoulder and questioning my every move.

I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders as I drove away from the apartment and headed to my parents' house on Saturday. My mom and dad were both happy to see me, and we talked about a number of things before my dad went outside to fire up the grill. My mother and I chatted for a while in private, and then we carried the salads and other items out to the picnic table, and sat down to have a lovely meal together.

At one point I looked up and saw Clark drive by. My parents lived on a corner lot, so he was fairly easy to spot through the chain-link fence. I pretended as if I hadn't noticed him, but then I saw him drive by again a few minutes later. I didn't remember ever telling him where my parents lived, since it wasn't necessary after I'd moved in with him, so I wasn't sure how he got the information. That's when I began to wonder if he'd followed me there, if not today then some other time.

Even though I was trying very hard to keep my parents from noticing that I was upset and something was wrong, I was getting madder and madder by the second. If I'd had any doubts before that Clark didn't trust me, this helped to prove my point. I definitely wasn't about to stay in a relationship like this, so I asked my parents if I could move back home.

"Isn't it working out with your roommate, honey?" Mom asked, looking concerned.

"No. He's not exactly the person I thought he was," I replied, trying to keep the conversation to a minimum.

"Didn't he help you get your job?" she followed, while looking at me slightly confused this time.

"Yes, he did, and I will be eternally grateful to him for that, but I just can't live with him any longer," I confessed, trying not to sound too desperate. "He has some extremely annoying habits that have been getting on my nerves."

"Of course you can move back here," Dad chipped in, moving the conversation along. "Are you going to need help?"

"Yes, if you don't mind, because I can't very well ask Clark to help me move. I'll call to reserve a truck, and then I'll call to let you know when I'm able to do this. Thanks, both of you, for bailing me out again, but it will only be temporary. Since I have a job now, I'll start looking for my own place as soon as possible."

"There's no rush, and you can stay with us for as long as you like," Dad offered, and I appreciated the gesture.

"Thanks, but I'll try not to make it too long. In fact, I was surprised you hadn't already rented out my room or turned it into something else that would benefit the two of you."

"No, that will always be your room, honey," Mom quickly replied. "We figured maybe you'd use it from time to time when you stayed over on the holidays or whatever. We even bought another bedroom set and put it in there since you took your old bedroom set with you."

"Geez, you didn't have to do that. I'm working locally, so even if I get a place of my own it will be fairly close by and it won't be necessary for me to use my old room after this."

"You may move away later, so it will always be here waiting for you, even when you have a family," Mom answered. "You and your spouse can use your room, and if you have children they can stay in the guest room."

"Let's not start rushing things." I was aware that my mom wanted grandchildren, but I wasn't sure if that was ever going to happen, seeing I'm gay. It would depend on whether the person I married wanted to adopt or use a surrogate to have a family.

When I got back to the apartment, I decided to confront Clark. "I noticed you driving by my parents' house a couple of times earlier." I did this to see his reaction, and I'll admit that he seemed a little embarrassed, but that was probably due to the fact that he'd been caught.

"Yeah, so what?" he shot back, sounding irritated.

"It only proves what I've suspected all along. You don't trust me. How did you even know where they lived?"

"I don't know. I guess I must have seen it on something. Maybe it was written somewhere when you moved here, or I might have seen it on an old resume or something."

"Yeah, right. It's more likely that you followed me there. I'm sorry, but I can't stay in a relationship like this. I won't live with a guy who doesn't trust me."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he screamed as the blood rushed to his head. "Just because I happened to drive by their house doesn't mean I was checking up on you."

"Of course not. They only live in a subdivision that isn't on a major route and isn't a shortcut to anyplace, so you can consider me skeptical. Admit it! Of course you were checking up on me and showing your lack of trust, just like you've done with everything else."

"Now you're sounding paranoid." I realized this was just his attempted to throw the problem back on me.

"Am I? You mean you haven't been checking my phone to see who I was talking to or reading my text messages? Are you pretending that you don't walk by my department all the time just to see who I'm with or what I might be doing, just like this afternoon? I'm tired of being spied on, so I'm moving out. You can have this place to yourself again."

"If you try to leave me, I'll hurt you and your parents." Judging by the look on his face, I truly believed he was serious. "Don't do this, because you won't live long enough to be with whoever else you're interested in."

He truly was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but he didn't need a potion to cause the transformation. "I'm not interested in anyone else, but I can't stand living like this. Find someone else to be your captive, because I'm not a human Ken doll that you can play with and keep locked in your toy box. You'll have to find some other guy to play out that fantasy for you."

Since his threat had actually scared me, I left the apartment as soon as he went to the toilet. I didn't go home, though, and drove over to the police station instead. Once there, I filed a report about the threat Clark had just made against my parents and myself. An officer took down my statement, but I soon got the impression that nothing was going to be done about it. I felt this way because I overheard a couple of the cops joking about it being the result of a 'gay cat fight' and they doubted it would lead to a 'homo-cide'. Disgusted, I merely thanked them for their help and left, and then I headed over to my parents house next.

I felt a little safer there, since they had a security system, but I knew that wouldn't be enough if Clark decided to act on his threat. I hurriedly explained the situation to them and told them about Clark's threat. I also informed them that I was planning on taking a couple of days off from work, because I didn't want to run into Clark there either. I told Dad that I'd arrange for a truck on Tuesday, and then we'd move while Clark was at work, if he was able to take the day off to help me. He said he'd call in first thing on Monday and take a few days off too, claiming a family emergency.

Once we'd thought about this some more, my dad suggested he'd call his lawyer on Monday and ask him to get a restraining order against Clark so he couldn't come near any of us. I thought that was a great idea, but silently I prayed that nothing else would happen before he was able to do it.

Luckily, I hadn't taken everything with me when I'd moved out, so I still had some clothes at the house that I could wear. They weren't my best things, but they would suffice until I moved my other belongings back home. I also spent some of my time looking out the windows to see if Clark was driving by again, but I never spotted him. It didn't mean he hadn't passed by, but if he had I just hadn't caught him doing it.

Monday morning, Dad called his lawyer as soon as he thought his office was open and explained the situation to him. I also told Dad to tell his attorney that I'd filed a police report shortly after Clark made the first threat, and the lawyer said he would take care of everything. He called back later and told us that we would have to appear in court that afternoon so I could testify about the threat in front of a judge. We told him that wouldn't be a problem and agreed to meet him there. When I called in to work, I explained the situation as best I could to my boss and told him I needed to take the next couple of days off. He wasn't thrilled about it, but he agreed to give me the time I needed. I also asked him to do me another favor and discreetly check with Clark's boss to see if he had taken off too. He promised he'd do what he could and then call me back.

All of us went to the courthouse later, since we didn't want to leave anyone at home alone until this was settled. We were greeted by Dad's lawyer shortly after we arrived and he pointed to a sign before we entered the courtroom, so we each turned off our cell phones before going inside.

We weren't there for very long, and I explained to the judge about everything Clark had said. I also told the judge that Clark and I worked in the same building, but not in the same department, so he agreed to write some additional provisions into the restraining order to address that situation as well. He said he couldn't keep Clark completely away from me at work since it was possible that we might pass in the hallways, on the stairs, or in the elevator. However, he would include a clause that Clark wasn't permitted to confront or speak to me while I was at work, which included prohibiting Clark from going near my department. I agreed that would be fine.

After we left the courtroom, we thanked Dad's lawyer and made our way to the exit. Before we went outside, we turned our cell phones back on and checked our messages. I had one from my manager, so I listened to it.

"Mason, I spoke to Clark's manager and found out that he called in sick today, but that's all I was able to learn."

This concerned me greatly. Had Clark called in sick so he could lay in wait for me at the apartment, since he probably figured I was going to go there to start moving my things out? I'm sure he'd say it was only so he could talk me out of leaving, but I was more inclined to believe that he was waiting to beat me senseless or possibly even to murder me. I sincerely hoped the piece of paper we got today would prevent anything like that from happening, but now I wasn't totally convinced it would be enough.

When we got home, my dad went to turn off the alarm, but it didn't seem to be working. He immediately called the company to report the problem, and they said they'd send a tech out to see what was wrong. When the guy showed up a couple of hours later, he examined the system and then explained the problem to us.

"I'm not exactly sure how it was done, but someone disabled your security system earlier. This isn't just a technical glitch, because I noticed signs that your system was deliberately tampered with. It would take a very tech-savvy person to pull something like this off, and it may have been done by someone who currently works with security systems or has worked with them in the past, but not in a job like mine. This person would have had to work on the other end of the business, focusing on the electronic configurations, as well as the alarm reporting systems."

Even though the guy had no idea who was responsible, I had a very strong suspicion about who might have done this. I wasn't sure if Clark had ever worked for a security company, but he definitely had the technical knowledge to pull it off.

After the tech called his office and worked with a technical rep at their headquarters, they brought the security system back online. Once the problem had been resolved, my dad thanked the man and he left, but as soon as he was gone, I told my dad about my suspicions.

After we finished discussing it, I called my manager again and asked if he'd do another favor for me. He wouldn't commit himself until I explained what I wanted, so I asked if he'd call Clark's manager in the morning to see if Clark had showed up for work or if he'd called in sick again. I told my boss that I was planning to move out of the apartment Clark and I shared and didn't want to have a confrontation while I was doing it. After thinking about it briefly, he agreed to do this for me and promised to call me as soon as he found out if Clark was at work.

I wanted to go over to the police station and report this incident too. I wanted to inform them about my suspicion that Clark had been the person who'd disabled my parents' security system, but Dad talked me out of doing it. He said we didn't have any proof that Clark had been involved or did anything wrong, so it was unlikely the police could or would do anything about it. Therefore, we switched over to talking about getting my belongings from the apartment instead. I'd already reserved a truck for the next day and hoped we'd be able to get everything moved while Clark was at work, since I felt it would allow us to avoid any problems or confrontations. However, I told my dad I might have to cancel the truck at the last minute if I learned Clark wasn't at work again.

The rest of the night was fairly calm and relaxed, although I was still concerned that Clark would be prowling the neighborhood after dark and might even try to break into the house. I didn't want to mention my concerns to my parents, though, since they were already worried enough, but I definitely wouldn't put it past Clark to do something like that. I'm not sure what his exact problem was, but Clark had some severe mental issues. He had been able to hide those problems from me for a while and could appear normal to everyone else, but when his problems eventually surfaced, he was a very different person and extremely scary. He truly was like Jekyll and Hyde.

That night after I went to bed, I slept with one eye open and only dozed off occasionally because I was worried Clark might show up and break into the house. I'm not sure if the earlier incident with the security system was so he could get inside and search the place or if it was just meant to show me that my parents and I weren't safe no matter how well we thought we were protected. Whatever his reason for doing it, it definitely worked to his advantage and I was even more scared than before.

My manager called early the next morning and told me that Clark's boss had said Clark was at work. After hearing this news, I breathed a sigh of relief, thanked my boss, and then my father and I went to pick up the truck. When we got to the apartment, the place was a total mess. Furniture was tipped over, objects were smashed, and the place was completely trashed. When I went to my bedroom, my dresser drawers had all been emptied and my clothes were scattered all over the place.

When I'd first moved in with Clark, I insisted on having separate bedrooms in case things didn't work out, but I never figured it would ever get this bad. Clark was very resistant to the idea at first, but when I explained we could still sleep together whenever we both agreed, he began to lighten up a bit. In fact, it became sort of a game after that and we would ask each other, "Are we going to do it at your place or mine?"

When I started picking up my clothes so I could pack them in a box, I noticed that many of the items had been slashed, probably with a knife. I immediately began checking every garment carefully and tossed the damaged clothing into a garbage bag, while putting the good items in the box. I guess Clark must have got all of his frustration out on my casual clothes and underwear, because my suits and other good clothing appeared untouched when I checked them out as they hung in the closet. I quickly grabbed all of those items and packed them up, before my dad and I began carrying my furniture and other belongings down to the truck.

Since I was afraid Clark might try to come home for lunch, just to see if I was there or if I'd been there, I urged my father to move a little faster. I certainly didn't want to be at the apartment if Clark decided to show up, so we increased our pace. As soon as I was sure that I had everything, I lowered the overhead door on the truck and secured it, and then we drove over to the police station, because I wanted them to have a record of this incident too. Even though I had the clothing Clark had cut up to show the police as evidence, my father came inside with me to support my claims and, hopefully, to get the cops to take this report more seriously. After we'd both finished making our statements, seeing we had each witnessed what Clark had done, we went outside, got in the truck, and headed home.

After we finished storing the furniture in the garage and had moved the boxes with my clothing and personal items up to my bedroom, we returned the truck. I felt good that we'd been able to accomplish all of this without running into Clark and had managed to avoid a potentially ugly, and possibly physical confrontation.

We were just getting ready to sit down to dinner when my cell phone rang. I noticed the call was from Clark, so I refused to answer it. That didn't discourage him, though, because he called back a few seconds later. I didn't answer that call either, so he called back a third time. Once I realized he wasn't going to give up, I grabbed my phone and walked out of the room to speak with him in private.

"Didn't you get served with the restraining order?" I barked into the phone without saying hello first. "You're not supposed to contact me or come near me or my family again."

"Do you think that stupid piece of paper is going to stop me from doing what I told you would happen if you left?" he snarled back. "I warned you, but you still snuck in here while I wasn't home and grabbed all of your shit."

"Only the things you hadn't sliced up!" I shot back, totally pissed.

"You're lucky you got it when you did, because I was going to destroy the rest of it tonight," he growled. "I was even planning to bust up your bedroom furniture too, but now I'll just have to come there to do it."

This was a definite threat, so I knew I'd have to do something about it. I wasn't sure what my options were, so I decided to offer up a bluff, hoping it would make him think twice before he tried anything.

"If you come near me, my parents, or this house I'll have you arrested and thrown into jail. Hopefully they'll keep you there for a very long time."

"Yeah, right," he sneered. "They don't do that for breaking a restraining order, but I warned you. If I can't have you, then no one can. No one is going to want you if you're all sliced up, and they definitely won't want a corpse."

"Go to hell, Clark!" I screamed before hanging up.

I immediately started to dial after I'd ended the call, but it was to notify the police about what had just happened. I told the officer who answered the phone that Clark had just called me, which was in direct violation of the restraining order, but I also told him that Clark had also threatened me, and then I repeated, word-for-word, what he'd said. The officer I spoke to said he'd send someone over to Clark's apartment to confront and warn him about any future contact, so I thanked him and hoped it would be enough.

Things were pretty quiet after that, at least until my parents and I went to bed. We had just turned off the lights and settled in for the night when I heard someone pounding on the front door. Since my room was located at the front of the house, but on the second floor, I quietly opened the window in my room and peered out to see who was doing it. I thought it might be the police trying to tell me what had happened when they went to confront Clark, but it wasn't them. It was Clark banging on the door.

I quickly pulled my head back inside before he spotted me, seeing I hadn't turned on the light, and then I grabbed my phone. I immediately dialed 9-1-1 and reported what was going on. The operator said she'd send a squad car over to check it out, so I moved back to the window, stuck my head out again, and yelled at Clark.

"Get the fuck out of here!" This caused him to look up. "I told you not to come around here, so now you're going to pay the consequences."

"And so will you!" he screamed as he raised his right arm.

That's when I realized he was holding a gun in his hand and lifting it in my direction. I immediately ducked back inside and hit the floor, just as the first shot shattered my bedroom window. I crawled out of the room and made my way over to my parents' bedroom to let them know what was going on. Since I knew my dad kept a shotgun in his closet, I told him to go get it.

"And make sure it's loaded," I urged, definitely terrified. "We may have to defend ourselves from this psycho if the police don't get here soon." I knew Clark was crazy, but this just proved he was totally insane.

I heard several more shots while we'd been talking, but then we heard the front door being kicked in, and the security alarm went off. Clark was obviously in the house now, and it didn't look as if the police were going to get here before something happened. Maybe that's why he'd tried to disable the alarm system earlier.

"Point the shotgun at the bedroom door and be ready to pull the trigger if you see Clark enter," I instructed Dad. "It's going to be him or us, because he's completely nuts!"

My father got ready just in case, but then we heard the sound of sirens outside. We weren't about to leave the bedroom just yet and waited to see what was going to happen next. I thought I heard someone on the stairs, but because the alarm was going off I wasn't sure if the person was running up or down them at the time. Then, we heard some muffled shouting outside, and even though we were still in the locked bedroom, I was barely able to understand what was being said. It was difficult because of the background noise, but their voices were loud enough to be heard over the alarm.

"Stop, drop the weapon and place your hands behind your head," I heard someone shout, obviously one of the cops. I didn't know if Clark was complying or not, but then we all heard a volley of gunshots. I held my breath and wondered if Clark was shooting at the police or if they were firing at him. Before long, I thought I heard someone on the stairs again, but then the person began to shout at us over the alarm.

"Mr. Wharley, this is Officer MacPartland responding to your 9-1-1 call." Slowly and cautiously we opened the bedroom door and looked out, but my father didn't lower the shotgun until we saw the man in uniform.

"Thank goodness you arrived," my dad stated. "I was afraid I was going to have to shoot him. I hope this will finally take care of my son's problem with that madman, once and for all." My father then went to turn off the alarm.

"It definitely will, because he'll be going to prison for a very long time--that is if he survives his wounds," Officer MacPartland informed us.

"Why? What happened?" I wanted to know.

"The perp was in the house when we pulled up, but then he tried to flee the scene after we arrived. We told him to stop, drop the gun, and place his hands behind his head, but he started shooting at us instead. We returned fire and he was hit multiple times, but he was still alive when I left him with my partner so I could come inside to see if you were all right. I'm not sure if he's going to make it, but if he does he'll be facing numerous charges, including attempted murder."

"Yeah, he took a few shots at me too," I informed the officer.

"I'd like you to show me where that happened, for my report," Officer MacPartland stated, so I began leading him over to my old bedroom. "We were on our way over here, using lights only, when some of your neighbors called and reported gunshots. That's when we turned on the siren too."

After checking out my bedroom and taking notes, Officer MacPartland thanked all of us and wished us a good night, what there was left of it. I certainly couldn't sleep in my room, so I shut the door and planned on sleeping in the guest room instead. Before I did that, however, my dad and I went downstairs to check out the front door and see how much damage had been done to it. The casing was splintered, although not severely, so we were able to nail the pieces back into place well enough so we could shut the door, flip the deadbolt, and fasten the chain latch. Since we weren't sure if those things would hold up, we also braced a chair under the doorknob before Dad reset the alarm. At least I was going to be able to sleep soundly, because there was no way Clark would be showing up again.

My dad and I ended up taking another day off from work, after we took time to explain to our bosses about what had happened the night before. Both were understanding, especially after we promised that we'd be in the last two days of the week. Once that had been taken care of, my dad contacted the handy man he frequently used for minor repairs and had him come over to fix the door and patch whatever bullet holes were in the walls and ceiling. Dad also called the local glass shop and asked them to send someone over to replace the window in my bedroom, and they all showed up to take care of the problems before the day was over.

Clark survived his wounds, but I think he would have preferred that he hadn't. He was charged with the attempted murder of two police officers, and another count of attempted murder for shooting at me. He was also charged with various gun violations and other lesser infractions, such as breaking and entering, violating a restraining order, and trespassing. Hopefully, my nightmare was finally over.

 

Chapter 2: Starting Over

Once the excitement from those events died down, and Clark had healed sufficiently enough to stand trial, we headed to court. The prosecutor began by calling various law enforcement officers to the stand to testify about the various complaints I had made. After that, the prosecutor entered into evidence the information about the restraining order. He also solicited the testimony of the person who had served Clark with the document, so he could address Clark's reaction to receiving it.

The prosecutor then called each of my parents to the witness stand so they could testify about the various things they had witnessed. This included Clark driving by the house to spy on me when I went there for a cookout, the clothes we found that had been sliced up, and what had happened the night he shot at me and broke into the house. My father also brought up the situation with the alarm, although he had to agree this was purely speculation and we had no way of proving Clark had been responsible.

After my parents finished testifying, the prosecutor called a witness that I didn't know. It turned out that the woman was the supervisor for another company dealing in home security, and she testified that Clark had worked for her a couple of summers when he was in college. She also stated that Clark definitely had sufficient knowledge about how to disable our system, although there was probably no way to prove he was the one who'd actually done it. After she had been cross-examined by the defense attorney, I was finally called to the witness stand.

I'm not exactly sure how long it took for me to answer all of the prosecutor's questions about my time with Clark, which included how we met and the time we'd lived together. Then, Clark's lawyer got his chance to try to poke holes in my statements as he attempted to discredit me. He did his best to get the jury to believe that most of what I claimed had only happened in my imagination and that I gradually dragged others into my hallucinations until they believed those things too. However, I think I held up fairly well under his grueling cross examination.

Finally, the two policemen involved in the shootout were called to the stand to testify about what they'd encountered after arriving at the house. They explained exactly what they had ordered Clark to do and described how Clark responded to their instructions. They also recounted the brief gun battle that followed and specified who shot first, as well as detailing how many shots had been fired by each individual involved.

The prosecutor rested his case after the policemen finished testifying, and then the defense got a chance to call its own witnesses. They were basically just people who knew Clark and portrayed him as a nice guy. They also insisted they'd never seen him act as I had described, and insisted that he was always a total gentleman. As I listened to them, it seemed to verify the fact that Clark had a split personality and had been able to fool many people. Since none of them could testify to having seen us together or that they'd witnesses any interactions between us, I wasn't sure how much impact their testimony would actually have on the case.

Seeing the defense didn't have anything substantial to counter any of the witnesses who had testified against Clark, I think many people in the courtroom wondered why he hadn't avoided the trial, pleaded guilty, and merely accepted a plea agreement. However, I knew exactly why he hadn't done it. He wanted to make me relive those painful memories and remember every moment of the time I'd been with him. This included all of the terrible things he'd done, the way he'd treated me, and the threats he'd made.

It took the jury less than an hour to find Clark guilty on all counts, and a couple of days later he was sentenced to life in prison, without the possibility of parole. The nightmare was finally over and I had my life back. Clark would no longer be around to threaten or harm me, so I tried to put this all behind me and forced it out of my mind.

After the trial ended, It took a few more days before I was able to move around the house, return to work, or do much of anything else without looking over my shoulder to see if Clark was still stalking me. I even continued to sleep with one eye open while staying with my parents, because I felt Clark would somehow find a way out of this mess and then come after me again.

Gradually, I was able to reclaim my life and I began an exhaustive search for a place of my own. After a couple of months of looking for an apartment that didn't remind me of the one I'd shared with Clark, I finally found one that suited me. It was closer to where I worked, only a few years old, and it would give me a chance to live my life the way I chose. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and they've been super throughout this entire traumatic event, but it's hard to date and find someone when you don't have your own place to spend time with them. In fact, prospective partners tend to look at you funny when you tell them that you still live with your parents.

It took a while to get the place organized and decorated the way I wanted, but my dad helped me move my old bedroom set out of the garage and into my new bedroom. I also went out and purchased a few items for the kitchen, such as a microwave, dishes, silverware and cooking utensils, but I also bought a table and chairs for the dining area, but I wasn't done yet. There were still a few other things I needed, but I was running short of money. That's when my parents came to my rescue and bought the living room furniture, although they let me pick out what I wanted. This helped out a lot, otherwise I might have had to use lawn furniture in the living room, at least until I saved up the money to purchase something else.

Now that Clark wasn't around any longer, I was able to relax at work and my life was back on track. Of course, I had to answer a great many questions from my co-workers about my time with Clark, especially the events that had caused him to snap and go off the deep end. I merely explained that he was always slightly unstable and very controlling, and the situation continued to deteriorate the longer we shared the apartment. I admitted that when I moved in with my parents that it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back and caused him to completely break with reality. I explained that I did it because he had been threatening me, and it proved to be a wise move on my part, because he eventually tried to kill all of us.

Over the course of the next several months, I started going out again, and I met a couple of guys that I really liked and had a great deal in common with. I began to hang out with them, although I remained extremely hesitant about getting into another relationship. I vowed to spend a great deal of time with any guy I was interested in first, so I could learn more about him before I made any type of commitment, no matter how small or innocent. I certainly didn't want to repeat my previous mistake.

It was now the middle of October again, and during the drive home I was noticing how the leaves on the trees were beginning to change color. I hadn't been able to appreciate beautiful things like this for a very long time and marveled at how different things looked now. It was getting darker earlier and becoming cooler too, so I knew it wouldn't be long before I'd have to dig out the flannel sheets and add a couple of extra blankets on the bed. I was mentally going over those things when I received an unexpected call.

"May I please speak with Mr. Mason Wharley?" the voice asked when I answered the phone.

"This is he," I responded.

"Mr. Wharley, I'm Captain Hernandez of the State Police and I've called to share some information with you that was recently given to me," he explained, sounding very serious. "Unfortunately, I don't think you're going to like what I have to say, because I'm calling to inform you that Clark Reistetter has accidentally been released from prison."

"What? How the fuck does someone accidentally get released from prison when he's been convicted of attempted murder?" I was hysterical and in a state of shock.

"What happened was unfortunate and inexcusable, but a clerical error was made and Mr. Reistetter was released instead of another inmate with a very similar name," Captain Hernandez explained. "A man named Claude Reisterer had served out his sentence and was scheduled to be released, but unfortunately Mr. Reistetter was let go instead."

"And the other guy didn't complain that he was being held longer than he should be?" I demanded, trying to get my head around how a mistake like this could have been made.

"He didn't at first, because another error had occurred and he'd been given some incorrect information. Since it's often difficult for inmates to calculate how much good time they've accumulated, and it affects their release date, he asked one of the correction officers to check and see when he was supposed to get out. The correction officer unfortunately misread Mr. Reisterer's file and advised him he'd be released on October 21, but he should have told him that he'd be released on October 12 instead. Due to that error, Mr. Reisterer didn't complain until several days after Mr. Reistetter had erroneously been allowed to walk out the front gate."

"What kind of operation are they running at the prison?" I was totally irritated by their ineptness and unable to believe how many errors they had made. "Not only did they give the correct guy the wrong release date, but then they got the name wrong and released a very dangerous psychotic criminal."

"I know and the prison sincerely apologizes for those errors, and as soon as they reported the mistake to us, we've been doing our best to locate Mr. Reistetter so we can lock him up again. I'm notifying you, because you were the main witness against him and had also been the focal point of his hostility. I wanted you to be informed about what had happened so you could remain alert and be ready to protect yourself."

"I appreciate that part, but it's still hard to believe how this could have happened in the first place," I replied as I toned my anger down a little this time.

"I totally understand, because I had a very similar reaction when I was notified about this by the prison officials. Please accept my sincerest apology, and I promise we'll do our best to correct this situation."

"So do you think he's headed here?" I was beginning to panic.

"Judging from the multiple reports of various thefts in the area, which have dramatically increased since he was released, it would appear that he's still within a few miles of the prison. We can't be positive, though, and he may eventually try to get to where you live, but we'll do our best to prevent that from happening."

"I hope you do, because I really don't want to deal with that lunatic again. He's threatened to kill me, and I have no doubt that he'll do it if he gets the chance, so I'd appreciate it if he never gets close enough to carry out his threat."

"Then we'll do our best not to give him the opportunity."

When our conversation ended, I immediately called my dad to let him know about this too. Clark knew where my parents lived, even if he didn't know where I currently resided, so I was worried about them as well. My dad was very concerned about this and advised me to get ready, because he was going to pick me up. He wouldn't say where we were going, but I didn't think he was planning on taking me back to his house. If that was the case, then I think he would have told me to pack up some things to bring with me, and although he hadn't done that, I could still tell this was important to him.

When he pulled up a few minutes later, I went outside and got in the car. That's when he finally advised me about what he was planning to do. "I'm taking you over to the Bass Pro Shop, because I'm going to buy both of us a hand gun. I don't want you to get caught unprepared or unarmed if Clark returns, so I'm going to make sure you're able to defend yourself."

"But I don't really know much about guns." I wasn't convinced this was a good idea.

"I know, but as soon as we have them, I'll take you to the shooting range and teach you what you'll need to know and how to use it. Humor me, because it will make your mother and me feel better if we know you have a weapon and are trained on how to use it. Even if Clark doesn't get this far, there are other dangers as well, now that you're living alone."

I eventually agreed with his logic and felt this might be a good idea, so we went inside the store and began looking around. After we'd examined several different weapons, each of us picked out a Beretta semi-automatic pistol. We had to fill out some forms for the background check first and then we had to wait a few more days for the paperwork to make its way through the system before we could take our purchases home with us. As soon as we were notified that everything had been approved, my dad picked me up and we rushed over to get the guns, along with some ammunition. That weekend Dad took me to the shooting range and taught me everything I needed to know.

"Not bad for your first time. You hit the target nearly every time, and that would be enough to slow Clark down, if not kill him outright."

"I hate the thought of killing someone, but in this case I know it will be him or me, so I won't hesitate if the situation arises."

"I'm glad to hear that, otherwise this would have been a waste of time and money."

It was now two days before Halloween, and I was preparing to head home after a long day at work. When I got down to the parking lot, I noticed there were some scratches on the driver's side door of my car. When I looked at the damage more closely, my mouth dropped open and nearly hit the ground. Someone had scratched the initials 'CR' in the paint and I knew exactly who had done it. Instead of going home, I drove over to the police station to report what I'd discovered.

"I'm notifying you first, because your department is closer to where I live and will be able to respond sooner if something happens. I'd like you to call the State Police and advise them about this too. They already know about my situation, because it involves a prisoner who was mistakenly let out of prison early and they've been conducting a manhunt for him."

Once the officer agreed to do this for me, he directed me over to a detective in plain clothes so I could give him the information. After he filled out an incident report, he followed me outside and took photos of the damage.

While we had been doing that, the officer at the front desk notified the State Police Headquarters, as I'd requested. It took about twenty minutes before a State Trooper showed up, and then he listened to what I had to say and asked for a copy of the statement I'd just given. He also advised me that his station had been placed on high alert and they were already searching the area to see if they could find Clark.

Once the detective heard what the Trooper had said, he advised me that he'd see if he could get approval to have an undercover officer assigned to keep an eye on my building for a few days, just in case Clark showed up. I thanked both of them for their help and breathed a little easier as I headed home, but I still grabbed my gun and kept it close to me at all times as well.

Later that night, I received another call. Since I didn't immediately recognize the number on the screen, I was afraid it was Clark calling, but I answered it anyway, just in case someone in law enforcement was calling.

"Hello," I said in a hoarse whisper, hoping that if it was Clark he wouldn't recognize my voice.

"Is this Mason Wharley?" the voice on the other end asked, and I immediately knew it wasn't Clark.

"Yes, it is," I replied in my normal tone this time.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't sure it was you. This is Captain Hernandez calling about the complaint you made earlier today. I just wanted to let you know that we are taking this matter very seriously and we're on full alert. Once I learned about what had happened to your vehicle, I did some checking and discovered there had been a couple of different vehicles reported stolen within a ten mile radius of the prison. It's possible that Mr. Reistetter was responsible for taking one of them so he could get to where you live. Have you experienced any other incidents, other than having his initials scratched into the paint on your car door?"

"No, that's it so far, but it just made me positive that he's around here and gunning for me. It was definitely his way of letting me know I wasn't safe."

"It wasn't very bright of him, although some people think intimidation is more important than stealth. We've alerted all of the surrounding police and sheriff's departments to be on the lookout for Clark and have distributed his mug shot so they'll be able to recognize him."

"I'm afraid that won't do much good on Halloween, because I have a feeling that's when he's going to strike. He'll be able to wear a disguise and not appear out of place, so I think he'll use that to get to me."

"It's very possible, and it would be a smart move on his part, since law enforcement will have a lot more to watch for that evening. It also means our attention will be split, so he might be able to slip past us. Just make sure you're very careful Halloween night."

"I will," I confirmed before ending the call.

Nothing happened over the course of that evening or the next night as well, but I didn't let down my guard. I knew Clark was somewhere in the area, because he'd left his calling card on my car to intimidate me, and I wouldn't feel safe again until he was back in prison. It was possible that the police presence in the area had scared him off for the time being, although I doubted it. Then again, he might just want me to suffer for a while first, and that would account for the reason he'd made sure I knew he was back.

The more I thought about it, the more scared I became, because tomorrow was Halloween. Multiple people would be running around in costumes and wearing masks, which meant Clark would be able to obscure his identity and keep everyone else from recognizing him. Not only that, but I'd be answering the door to greet the trick-or-treaters who stopped by so I could add my share of candy to their goody bags. It meant he'd be able to take advantage of this fact and wait until no one else was around before he knocked on my door and force his way inside. I probably wouldn't have time to react, and I couldn't very well carry my gun when I answered the door for the real trick-or-treaters.

I hadn't heard anything further from the State Police or the local police department, so I wasn't sure if they were still looking for Clark, or even if they still had an officer watching my building. On the way home from work on Halloween, I spotted a patrol car sitting across the street when I arrived home, so maybe they were still watching over me. Either that, or they'd just had a call in the area.

I quickly went up to my apartment and got ready for the kids to start showing up. After I placed the candy on a small table by the door so it would be handy when they knocked, I also made sure the gun was where I could get to it fairly quickly, in case I needed it later. Once those things had been taken care of, I fixed dinner and waited for the first of the trick-or-treaters to show up. I was glad that I'd bought a lot of candy, because I was surprised by the number of kids who showed up over the next few hours. Since it was also a school night, I decided to lock up at 9:00, because I felt everyone would be calling it a night and heading home by then.

Before I turned in for the night, I went around the apartment and made sure everything was shut up tight and the place was secure, just in case Clark had found out where I lived. I may be paranoid, but I was concerned that he might have shown up earlier in the day while I was at work and managed to somehow get inside so he could leave a way in to get at me later. Once I was sure everything was as it should be, I grabbed my phone and the gun and took them with me. I laid each one on the counter in the bathroom while I was going through my nightly ministrations, and then I carried them into the bedroom with me. After shutting the bedroom door, I placed those items on the nightstand before I slid under the covers. I wanted to be prepared if Clark happened to show up later.

I was just about asleep when I heard the sound of glass breaking. I assumed the noise meant Clark had just broken one of the windows to gain entry, so I grabbed my phone and pistol off the nightstand before rolling off the side of the bed farthest away from the door. I was going to keep the bed between us and use it as protection, in case he came through the door shooting. Then, I dialed 9-1-1 and reported a break-in before racking the chamber on the Beretta. I also made sure the safety was off.

"Mason, I'm back. Where are you?" I heard his intimidating greeting, which he offered in a sing-song voice. He obviously expected to find me defenseless, otherwise he wouldn't have been stupid enough to announce his presence.

I remained silent and stayed where I was, but my eyes and the pistol remained trained on the closed bedroom door. I had no idea what he was waiting for, since he must have figured I was obviously in bed at this time of night, so was this just another of his ways to torture me mentally and emotionally before doing whatever he had planned?

"Aw come on, I know you missed me, so come out here where we can play," he taunted, since he knew I didn't want anything to do with him.

I kept very quiet and remained crouched behind the bed, because I was hoping he would think I wasn't home, get frustrated, and then leave. That's when I realized that if he'd been outside and watching the apartment earlier, he would have seen the lights on and realized I was home. Therefore, I stayed where I was and remained alert for any signs of him trying to enter the room.

I hadn't heard another sound from him in quite a while and was wondering if he was still there when the bedroom door unexpectedly burst opened and slammed against the wall. I didn't fire right away, because I had been taught to identify my target first before pulling the trigger, but no one was there. Apparently he had done this to see if I was armed, because he'd hidden out of sight after he'd pushed the door open. I hadn't said anything when it happened, like demanding that he go away or telling him I wasn't interested in his stupid games, but I wasn't sure if I might have gasped in surprise when the door crashed against the wall. If I had, then it would have let him know I was definitely inside.

"Time to pay the piper, Macey baby," he stated as he reached around the corner and flipped on the light switch. I believe he did it because he hadn't seen me when he peeked inside the room earlier, even though I hadn't seen him do it. I concluded that he felt the light would help him pinpoint where I was and make me feel more vulnerable. "I told you that you'd be sorry for leaving me and now I've come to collect."

Nothing happened for a few more seconds, and then he finally stepped into the doorway. Right after he did that, I heard sirens outside and saw him turn his head slightly in that direction, as he watched the lights flashing through the windows in the other room. When he turned around again, he lifted his arm and that was when I saw the gun in his hand. I hadn't been sure if he had one until that moment, so I assumed he must have stolen it as well, but I didn't wait for him to pull the trigger. Before that happened, I started squeezing the trigger on my gun instead. After firing off several rounds, I saw Clark suddenly drop to the floor, but I wasn't sure if I'd hit him. If I had, I had no way of knowing how badly he was wounded. After thinking briefly about going over to check on him, I felt he might just be playing possum and waiting to shoot me when I approached, so I stayed where I was and didn't move.

I'm not sure how long it took after I squeezed off those rounds before anything else happened, because time seemed to stand still after I'd fired. Eventually, however, I heard the door to my apartment being smashed in and saw the beams from the flashlights advancing through the other room.

"I'm in the bedroom," I yelled, since I felt that it must be the police. "I think he's on the floor near the doorway, but I'm not sure if he's dead or not, because I fired at him when he came into the room."

Before long I saw a couple of police officers in black assault gear bending down and then I heard one of them speak. "He's dead all right."

Now that I knew he was no longer a threat, they coaxed me to come out from my hiding place and took the pistol from my hand. One of the men then questioned me about what had happened, and when I told him about hearing the sound of breaking glass, he sent the other officer to see how Clark got in. When he came back a short time later, he stated the window in the dining area had been broken, so it's apparently how Clark had gained admittance.

During the next few minutes, more police started showing up and one of them walked around the apartment taking photos of everything, including Clark, me, the location where I'd been hiding, and the casings on the floor. After the EMTs came to collect Clark's body, I was told to get dressed, because they were taking me to the station so I could make a statement about what had taken place. I agreed and was ready in a couple of minutes. After grabbing my phone, I followed the officer who had stayed with me, and then we went outside and I got into the squad car with him.

I was at the police station for about an hour going over every detail about what had happened. The other officers had remained at the apartment to finish up their investigation. They took more photos, gathered up the casings from the rounds I'd fired, and hung the yellow crime scene tape across the door. After they'd taken all of my information and we'd completed the reports, they told me I could go, but I reminded them that I needed a ride back, since I didn't have my car.

After they agreed to return me to my apartment, they asked if I had somewhere I could go for a few days, since my place would be off limits until they finished their investigation. I told them I could call my parents and go there, but I would need to pick up a few items from the apartment first, so I'd have clothes while I was with them. The officer said he'd have to go inside with me when I did that, to make sure I didn't disturb anything else, and I didn't have a problem with it. I was just glad to know the nightmare with Clark had now finally come to an end.

I hated to wake my mom and dad, but I needed a place to sleep, so I called them anyway. My dad was confused and even slightly upset that someone was calling at this hour, but after I explained things to him, he told me he'd be waiting to let me in. Although I thought my problem with Clark had ended when he went to prison, I was now positive that I'd seen the last of him. It was ironic that this had come to a head on Halloween, the same day our relationship had begun a year before. However, this time he came to my apartment to carry out his macabre version of trick-or-treat, but he ended up receiving a trick, rather than a treat.

 

Chapter 3: A New Beginning.

I was tired when I got to work the next day, since I'd only managed to get a partial night's sleep. However, that wasn't my only problem. It seemed as if nearly everyone in the building had heard the news reports about what had happened the previous evening. This either occurred before they left the house or as they were listening to the radio on the way in, so they had a ton of questions for me.

There was a steady stream of people wandering in and out of the department throughout the morning, and more of them came up to me while I was eating lunch. I answered their questions about how Clark had been falsely released and how he had discovered where I lived. They knew I'd moved after he'd been taken to prison, so I merely told them that I suspected he must have followed me home sometime after he'd keyed my car door.

Things didn't begin to die down until late afternoon, and I was grateful when the workday finally came to an end. I was eager to get out of there, because I was tired of repeating myself when answering questions, and I was looking forward to spending some time with my parents. I wasn't sure how long I'd be staying with them, but I had to wait for the maintenance man to fix the door and window in my apartment first. I suppose he was waiting for the police to tell him the apartment was no longer a crime scene and he could go in there, but I couldn't wait to resume my life.

When I was finally notified that those items had been taken care of, I thanked my parents for everything they'd done and returned to my apartment. The police returned my gun as well, since it had been purchased legally and I'd shot Clark in self defense, but I voluntarily remained in partial seclusion. I only left the apartment to go to work or to visit my parents, since I felt it would eliminate any chance that I'd run into others who wanted to interrogate me about what had taken place. I wanted to forget about that night and was tired of going over the same information repeatedly, so I felt it would be best to stay out of sight until the incident had become a distant memory.

That didn't really happen for several months, but eventually things began to settle down, as other topics of interest arose and people moved on to those subjects. It was also when I realized it was October again, and I started to feel a little uneasy, since we were approaching the first anniversary of when I'd shot Clark, and the second anniversary of when we'd met. I wasn't sure why it was bothering me so badly, since I knew I had to kill him before he killed me, but I was feeling more and more uneasy the closer it got to that day.

Even though I tried to force those thoughts out of my mind and attempted to suppress the strange feelings I was having, nothing I did was working. When I went out to buy candy to give to the kids, the memories of those events came flooding back into my mind. I held it together for the most part, and although I was having some troubling dreams at night, I was still looking forward to seeing the kids when they showed up at my door.

After giving away most of the candy I'd purchased and seeing the various costumes the kids had showed up in, I finally called it a night and got ready for bed. I had just crawled between the sheets when I heard something that made the marrow in my bones turn to ice.

"Macey baby, guess who?" The voice was mocking me, but it couldn't possibly be him.

"No fucking way! I have to be dreaming," I stated out loud, basically proving that I wasn't asleep.

I broke out in a cold sweat as I considered what I thought I had heard, and I considered whether my brain might be playing a trick on me. He was dead, so there was no possible way it could be him again. I had seen his dead body, and I knew they had buried him, so my mind had to be recalling what had happened the previous year - except this wasn't happening exactly the same way as the last time. Last year when he showed up he said, 'Mason, I'm back!', but this time I heard him say, 'Macey baby, guess who?' If my mind was merely replaying what had happened before, then why was it changing what Clark had said?

"I know you missed me, so are you happy that I'm back?" the voice sneered, and I could almost see the sarcasm in those words dripping off his tongue.

"You're not real. This is just some kind of illusion," I muttered as forcefully as I could, but I knew my protestations sounded extremely hollow in the attempt.

I was considering what the hell was going on and wondering if I was having some kind of mental breakdown that might explain this aberration when I noticed something taking place on the other side of the room. As I turned my attention toward the door again, it appeared as if a mist or a fog was slowly seeping through the gaps around the solid door. As soon as there was a sizeable collection of whatever it was on this side, it began to coalesce and slowly materialized. Before long, I was able to recognize a shape and began to realize what was happening. It was the ghostly apparition of Clark and it stood not more than a body length away from me.

"From the look on your face, I take it you weren't expecting to see me again," the voice sneered, as a look of sadistic satisfaction came over his demented face as he stood menacingly before me.

"You aren't here. This isn't real." I think I said this more in an attempt to convince myself, rather than to convince the specter before me.

"Oh, but I am," he quipped, before emitting a bone chilling laugh. "I warned you that you'd never be able to get away from me."

It was true. He had told me that before, but I didn't think it would include the time after his death as well! Instinctively, I slid over to the other side of the mattress, crawled out from under the covers and dropped onto the floor. Then, I cowered in the corner and used the bed to keep the abomination away from me.

"Let me guess. I'll bet you've got your gun with you again too?" he jeered as he watched what I was doing. For some strange reason, I held up both of my hands to show the specter they were empty and I didn't have a weapon. "That's good, because it really wouldn't have done you any good."

What was I going to do to get rid of him now? I had nothing to defend myself with, and as the ghostly form had just pointed out, the gun wouldn't have helped anyway. If this truly was Clark, as it now appeared, he was already dead, so how the fuck was I going to get rid of an unwanted paranormal visitor?

I never took my eyes off of the spectral form, even as I considered those thoughts, and I noticed when he started to drift toward the dresser. I watched as his arm and hand slowly reached out for the book that was lying there, and I suspected he was planning to pick it up. I assumed he was going to throw it in my direction to scare me even more, but he merely knocked the book onto the floor.

"Damn, I haven't quite got the hang of this yet," he hissed. "I guess you could say I'm a ghost on training wheels, but when I completely understand about how to do this shit, then I'm going to make you pay for what you did. I warned you not to leave me, but you just wouldn't listen."

The damn apparition continued to taunt and mock me all night long, and although it seemed as if he was unable to harm me physically, he was playing havoc with my mental and emotional state. I thought maybe I'd get back into bed, go to sleep, and basically just ignore him, but when I did that he emitted a blood curdling scream that caused my heart to stop beating momentarily. Hearing that awful noise also made me cover my head with one of the pillows, in an effort to block out the sounds he was making, but the damn specter ripped the pillow out of my hands and flung it across the room.

"That's better," he sneered as he hovered over me. "I'm gradually starting to get the hang of this and beginning to figure out how this shit works."

The apparition then continued to torment me for the rest of the night. He would poke me when I started to doze off, pulled the blankets off my body when I tried to hide, and did whatever else he could just to annoy me, so I got absolutely no sleep at all. To my utter relief and astonishment, he seemed to disappear when the sun came up and began to filter into my bedroom. However, I wasn't sure if his ghostly form had really gone, or whether I just couldn't see it any longer in the brighter light of day. I was exhausted and couldn't possibly go to work, so I called in sick. I then managed to take a short nap, and when I woke up a couple of hours later I began to wonder if I was going to have to go through this again later tonight.

Since I didn't want to risk enduring the same torment again, I felt I had to do something. After thinking about it for a while, I finally decided to call the church that my mom and dad belonged to so I could ask the priest if he would possibly come over and do a blessing on me and the apartment. Since I wasn't sure if Clark had somehow attached himself to me or this location, seeing I was the one who had killed him and he had died here, I wanted the priest to offer a blessing on both. After explaining the situation to him in great detail, I began to detect a modicum of doubt on the other end the line, so I changed my request slightly.

"Maybe you could perform an exorcism to get rid of this thing then," I suggested, since I was trying to find a way to convince the priest to come over and help me.

"I'm afraid the church rarely performs exorcisms any longer, and that particular ritual is only done for demonic possessions," he replied in a very unemotional way. "Even if this is the spirit of your former friend and he was truly as bad as you claim, this case still doesn't rise to the level of a demon emanating out of the pits of hell."

After pleading with him for a few more minutes, he finally agreed to come to the apartment at 1:00 to do a blessing. Now that I knew he was going to do this, I got online and visited several sites that dealt with paranormal events and ghostly apparitions, in an attempt to find out what else I could do to prevent him from returning.

One site had a phone number listed that I could call for help, so I took a chance and dialed. After I'd explained what had happened the previous night and told the person that a priest was coming over to do a blessing, I asked what else I could do to prevent this from happening again.

"I'm going to call a medium I know who lives in your area, and I'll ask if she would mind going over to your apartment to see if she can expel whatever this is. In the meantime, I want you to get enough salt so you can use it to place a line of salt across each window ledge, as well as along the base of each door leading out of the apartment. However, you don't have to do this to the interior doors."

"What good will salt do?" I snapped back, thinking this sounded lame and possibly too simple to solve my problem.

"The salt helps to prevent the ghosts from entering your dwelling, if it isn't already inside. If it is, then the salt will trap it within until someone can get there to expel it, so it won't be able to return again."

I finally agreed to do what he advised, but I knew I didn't have enough salt currently in the apartment, so I'd have to run to the store after the priest performed his blessing. It would obviously take a lot of salt to do this, so I planned accordingly.

When the priest arrived, he said a prayer first and then he blessed me and every room in the apartment, and he sprinkled every area with holy water. Although he did this in every room, he never actually forbid the spirit from returning. He merely placed me and the rooms of the apartment under God's protection, because this wasn't an exorcism where he would demand the presence to leave. The blessing was only supposed to keep evil spirits from entering or hanging around, so I hoped it would be enough to do the trick and solve my problem.

Once the priest had gone, I went out and bought enough salt for the task at hand, and then I placed the salt where I'd been told. It seemed kind of strange to be doing this, and also pretty messy, but I was willing to try anything, as long as it might get rid of Clark. When I finished putting the salt at every location, I walked around the apartment again to make certain I hadn't missed a spot.

The medium showed up an hour later, and she informed me that she couldn't sense any spirits in the apartment. This made me feel better, since it confirmed Clark was no longer present, and then I followed her as she sprinkled some kind of herb in various locations, muttered some words, and expelled anything that she might have missed. She also checked to make certain I had placed the salt correctly, and once she left, I spent the rest of the day relaxing.

To say I was uneasy as the sun began to set would have been a gross understatement. I had no way of knowing if this was going to work or if Clark would show up again as soon as it got dark. There wasn't anything else I could do, so I tried to keep busy until it was time to get ready for bed and go to sleep.

I laid awake for quite a while after I was under the covers, because I was waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Eventually, I drifted off, totally exhausted from not sleeping the previous night and only being able to take a short nap during the day. I was actually relieved when the alarm went off in the morning, because it had been a very quiet evening.

Since nothing happened the following day either, I was in a much better mood when getting ready for bed that night. Maybe the things I'd done had actually taken care of the problem, so now the only question left unanswered was whether those precautions had gotten rid of Clark for good. If not, what was he waiting for? Was he merely planning to wait and show up again next Halloween?

I put those thoughts out of my mind and eagerly crawled into bed. I fell asleep quickly this time, but when I got up to use the toilet, I thought I heard a noise outside, so I decided to check it out. I figured the disturbance had probably been caused by one of my neighbors' pets or some wild animal, so I looked out the window to see what was there. I immediately froze in place and my heart stopped beating for a few seconds, because I saw Clark standing outside my apartment staring in my direction.

"You're still mine!" the apparition screamed, just before it disappeared from sight.

Had I just imagined it, merely dreamed it, or had he really been there? I blinked a few times as I stared out the window again as I tried desperately to figure this out. I certainly hoped Clark wasn't still around, because if the things I'd done hadn't gotten rid of him, by next Halloween he would be even stronger. By then he would have had another year to improve his paranormal skills and figure things out, so he would be even better prepared to torment me, if not kill me outright. I silently prayed this had merely been an illusion, because I wanted my problem with Clark to be over, once and for all.

 

The End.