Page 6 of Saving Stella

She would never raise her voice or protest, even to defend herself.

Her imaginary friend, however, was the exact opposite.

She could feel it simmer with rage every time the other kids harassed Stella. It wanted her to fight back, to get even. Of course, she wouldn’t do it, as she could already imagine her parents’ disappointed faces if she ever got in trouble.

As she grew older, however, it became more difficult to hold back. It was like she had the Devil inside her, constantly telling her to do bad things. Because her father was a pastor, she was so afraid to let her parents know what was happening. So, she prayed hard, day and night, trying to keep her imaginary friend at bay.

And she was successful, until one day, she just snapped. A group of girls were teasing her in the locker room back in eighth grade. She couldn’t remember what it was about now—juvenile stuff for sure—but it was as if years of clogged up rage had burst out of her. She lunged for the girls and clawed one of them in the face. It had taken two teachers to get her to calm down.

Needless to say, her parents had been disappointed, and she loved Papa and Momma so much that she cried herself to sleep that night because she’d never let them down before. It was at that moment she decided she would never listen to her “friend” again.

Stella jolted back to the present just as she pulled into her driveway. Sometimes, she thought she’d imagined her “friend” all those years ago. Looking back now, perhaps it was a manifestation of her own insecurity at being adopted. Her parents had been open about her adoption from the beginning, never making her feel less than just because she wasn’t their biological daughter. Perhaps the reason she grew up obedient and dutiful was because she was afraid her parents would send her away.

But maybe part of her wanted to rebel too.

Her hand pressed against her chest and she inhaled deeply. It had felt so real, the way her chest rumbled and the snarl rang in her ear. She could swear she even felt the hot breath escaping her mouth.

Maybe I imagined it.

Because the only other explanation was that she was having some kind of psychotic episode.

Trudging into her modest home, Stella took off her heels and made her way to her bedroom to get ready for bed. As she slipped between the covers, she reached for her phone instinctively to check her messages, as usually, this was the time she would exchange messages with Tyler before she went to sleep. Quickly, she withdrew her hand before it even touched her device and then cringed, thinking that she would have to see him tomorrow at work.

But she also wondered what he was doing now.

Was he still at the bar? Or did he go home?

Was he alone?

Dread pooled in her as she thought of going to work the next day.

I’ll just have to avoid him.

Switching her lamp off, she sank back into her pillows and closed her eyes. As her consciousness fell into that space between awake and asleep, she could have sworn she heard another deep, but this time, yearning growl.

Her alarm the next day woke her up with a start. Reaching over, she switched it off and trudged off to the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, bits and pieces of her dream from the night before swam into her sleepy brain.

Running.

The smell of leaves.

Soft fur.

Glowing green eyes.

Her hand stopped brushing as she stared into the bathroom mirror. She looked as she always did when she woke in the morning—her blonde hair disheveled from sleep, blue eyes still sleepy.

But she couldn’t help but feel there was something different.

Yanking her toothbrush out of her mouth, she spat into the sink and went through the rest of her morning routine, then headed off to school.

The drive to Crestholm was only twenty minutes, though she dreaded every moment of it. Thankfully, when she pulled into the employee parking lot at school, she didn’t see Tyler’s pickup truck in his usual spot. He also seemed to be absent, but she chalked that off to him being a sub and not really needing to show up for the full day.

By the end of the day, there was a lightness to her step as she headed back to her car that hadn’t been there since last night. Maybe the Good Lord was looking out for her and Tyler had been reassigned elsewhere and she would never see him again.

“Ms. Lennon?”

“Oh!” she yelped, the voice from behind catching her by surprise. When she spun around and saw who it was—or rather, wasn’t— she clutched at her chest and let out a big sigh. “You scared me.”