Someone stalking me

Oliver was led to the principal's office, by the senior student who came to call him. She had introduced herself along the way, as the violet house girl's hostel prefect. Her name was Sally Nichols.

As they went, Oliver's heart was pounding in curiosity. He wondered what may have prompted the principal to send for him.

He trudged behind Sally, like a prisoner who was being led to his jail room. He wished this was not about last night.

They started ascending a long spiral staircase. Oliver paused and gazed up at the stairs as they spiraled into the distance. His mouth slightly fell open in disbelief. He wondered if they were supposed to climb to the top.

"Excuse me, where are we going?" Oliver asked abruptly. He just felt he needed to ask.

She was already five steps ahead.

"I won't answer your question, since I've told you already," Sally replied.

"I know we're going to the principal's office, but... Where exactly is it? I can't see any door from here," Oliver asked.

"The door is up there," she answered, with her finger pointed straight up.

Sally stopped climbing. She sighed and looked back at Oliver, with concern.

"Don't worry, we'll be there soon," she assured.

Oliver almost fainted, as he looked up again. For the moment, he was trying to understand the meaning of the word- soon, because coming from Sally, the word sounded so alien, like it was the exact opposite of the one he knew.

Oliver remained quiet all the way through. They had not climbed halfway yet, and Oliver's limbs were already on fire. His joints and muscles ached so badly, he could barely lift a foot. He was still trying to understand why a staircase as long as that one was necessary when there was a thing like an elevator.

The way Sally climbed non-stop, without any sign of tiredness, made Oliver stare at his legs with doubt.

"Stop lingering, try to keep up," Sally said.

Oliver let out a satisfying sigh of relief. Finally, they had gotten to the top. Standing right in front of them, was a sturdy cedar wooden door, that led to the principal's office. Sally pushed it open, and they both went in.

The door led to a small outlet, with long benches kept close to the walls. The main office was demarcated from the small waiting room, with a transparent glass wall, and a white metal door.

Oliver could see through the transparent wall, a white-haired man in a black priestly gown. Two other men in black tuxedo suits, sat opposite the white-haired man, behind the large desk. Oliver knew at once, that the elderly man was the principal.

Sally gave a slight knock on the door, then pushed it open, just a crack.

"Excuse me, sir, the boy you sent for in here," she said to the principal.

"The Oliver Logan?" the principal asked.

"Yes sir."

"Okay, please let him wait out there a few minutes," the principal said to her.

Sally went into the office, and out after a short time, carrying a pile of books.

"You heard the man. You have to wait here till he calls you in," Sally told him, before leaving the door.

"What now?" muttered Oliver to himself, as he slowly lowered himself to the bench.

There were so many thoughts on his mind at that moment, several mysteries yet unsolved. Jasper and his roommate, the spooky message from last night, his strange popularity, the principal suddenly wanting to see him?

He never thought he would have to spend much time in the principal's office. He felt uncomfortable, seeing time pass by seconds. He had a strong feeling that things were not going well somewhere and that he was the cause.

Oliver was scared that the old him might force himself out to the open, and everyone would dread him once again. It was still a mystery to him, the reason they called him a freak in his former school since he never laid a finger on anyone, not even the bullies. He guessed that it might be due to his inherent superior intellect, but could he be certain, he wondered. Whatever was really the reason why they thought he was odd, he didn't let it bother him, since he had other less petty things to worry about.

About a minute later, the two men who were in the principal's office were finally out. As they passed by, something about them immediately got Oliver's interest. The silver-plated shield-shaped badge on their chests drew his attention. He certainly knew who they were, and he had long considered them as foes.

The principal gestured at him to come inside. Immediately he stepped foot inside the office, his highly trained olfactory sense was quick to detect the slight scent of incense, and it started making him feel nauseous, adding to the tension he was going through.

Oliver observed that the office was entirely adorned with several religious items and relics. There were three large frames of portrait paintings of a particular religious icon- the Virgin Mary, displayed on the walls, a thick large book on the desk, with an inscription- Holy Bible, with a black rosary necklace on top it, and a wooden cross beside the Bible. Oliver couldn't stand the decor, it was rather too sophisticated and over-religious for his liking.

"You must be Mr Oliver Logan," the principal said to him, charismatically.

"Yes sir," replied Oliver, staring straight at him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Oliver. It surprised me when I heard that you're already starting to associate, I never expected it would come this early, for a young boy with similar misfortune. I admire that resilient fighting spirit of yours," the principal said.

"You see, we don't usually admit students to the school, in the middle of the term, but when we discovered excellent records at your previous school, we knew you deserved a chance."

Oliver just stood there, staring straight at the man.

"Our welfare team is doing their best to find you the most suitable sponsors to support your upkeep, and provide a home you can be welcomed in, during the holidays, but until then, you'll be having counseling sessions with Dr Driscoll every Friday."

In as much as Oliver despised therapists, this one made him a little anxious, as the name was similar to that of one he knew. He just hoped it was another one bearing the same name as the one he knew.

The principal asked Oliver to go meet with the therapist in another room, next to the office. Oliver obliged and went in through the door at the left wall. To his greatest surprise and worst expectation, Dr Driscoll was the therapist. Of course, it was the one he knew, with a somewhat grotesque appearance, stout height, tubby body, a red snub-nose, a crooked tooth, and a receding chin.

"Doctor Driscoll?" muttered Oliver in astonishment.

"Oliver! I'm very delighted to see you again," exclaimed the doctor, beaming with a smile.

Oliver wasn't smiling, he just stared at the man, expressionlessly.

"I hoped never to see you again," Oliver said, "What do you want?" he asked.

"Oh, son, don't get all frosty on me. I know it must be hard for you, without your parents, that's why I'm here to help you," the doctor replied, in a sincere and convincing tone.

Oliver scoffed irritatedly.

"Help me? Like you did last year?" Oliver looked serious.

"Son, I'm not here to argue about the past or to prove a point. I want..."

Oliver cut in.

"Last year, you tried to convince me that I was going crazy. Haven't you done enough already?" Oliver said, still in his low voice.

"I never said that, son. My only concern was helping you," the doctor replied.

"Quit it, old man. I never needed your help then, and I sure don't need it now. I'm now different," Oliver said.

The doctor's brows furrowed inquisitively.

"I wonder why you're here, probably to try to convince me that everything will be fine without them, good luck with that."

Oliver has had a long terrible history with several psychiatrists and psychotherapists. Dr Driscoll was the last he encountered, and it was all his mother's idea. She insisted he begin therapy sessions with the doctor, the time he started predicting future events. He tried convincing his parents about his visions, but they never believed him. They felt he was just psychotic.

Dr. Driscoll had become fed up already with Oliver's comments and behavior towards him. He constantly glanced at his wristwatch.

"I will no longer tolerate this cold side of yours, Oliver. Sessions would commence from next week onwards, make sure to prepare yourself," he said to Oliver.

"No, you, prepare yourself. I bet you can't handle the heat," Oliver replied, in his low solemn voice.

The doctor's eyes widened a bit, in surprise.

"Was that a threat?" he asked, with a faint smile.

"Whatever you call it," Oliver replied, exiting the room.

Oliver descended the stairs with a sense of urgency. Climbing down seemed to be easier and stress-free than going up.

As he went, he constantly glanced over his shoulder, as if suspecting that he was being followed, but there was no other person on the stairs.

Before he knew it, he was down the stairs. Before advancing to the hallway, he paused and turned back. He heard the sound again. It was as if a ghost was stalking him.

"What the hell?" he mumbled curiously.

Oliver shrugged. He came out to the hallway. By now, it was less crowded. Most students had left for the cafeteria. Oliver was heading towards the cafeteria, he knew Jasper would be there.

On the way, Oliver was still hearing the sounds of silent footsteps. Though few people were walking by, he could still sense that he was being followed.

He suddenly turned back, and at that same moment of a split second, he spotted something strange, moving away quickly.

As Oliver was still looking backward, he mistakenly bumped into someone. He faced the front immediately, and saw Drake and his friends, standing there in front of him. Drake was grinning sinisterly.

"Sorry about that," Oliver said to him, with his casual tone.

Drake scoffed.

Oliver ignored them and tried to take another way, but they all blocked the way. Oliver's mood changed slightly.

"I said I'm sorry. It was a mistake," he said.

Drake shrugged, and then he and his friends went out of the way. Just as Oliver was about to pass, one of the boys put out a foot, forcing him to trip. Oliver had no idea who among them set the foot, or when it happened, all he knew was that he was flat on the ground.

"Sorry about that," one of the boys said, mimicking Oliver's voice, the rest laughed out loud in an annoying manner.

"That's a warning for you to stay away from me, Oliver," he heard Drake say.

Someone stopped by to help him to his feet.

"I'm okay, I... I got it," he mumbled, covering his face in shame, but pretending to be favoring his injured forehead.

By the time he was on his feet, Drake and his friends were already out of sight. Very few people were passing, and most of them stared at him sympathetically.

He looked again, at the place he spotted the unknown thing. He had a feeling it might be his stalker.