Obsessed

You know those urban legend stories our parents told us all the time as kids?

They would always tell us that they were real, but we never really believed them because of how silly it sounded. Like of that little boy killing his older sister, maybe a boy stalking a camp or even a man who haunts you in your dreams. All of those stories sound real, don't they? Well they're not, but mine is. One that is so bone chilling that you'll wish I never told you, and nor do I. I wish that what I'm about to tell is all just a dream. A figment of my imagination. Fake. But it wasn't.

It was my favorite holiday of the year; Thanksgiving. There's a lot of things I'm thankful for having a loving family, having supportive people in my life, and getting adopted. Yes, I am adopted. My birth mother was too young when she had me then a few years when I got older, maybe around six, she died.

It was on my birthday as well. I was so crushed and broken because I was very close to her. Even though she hadn't been in my life. She didn't want me to think that she abandoned me, so she came back. She didn't have custody of me but, she was given some rights to take me to places and stay with her for breaks and summers sometimes.

My adoptive mother, Angela, knew I was so crushed, but family and friends were here and me only being six around then I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so I told them I wanted my party to go on. It wasn't too hard for me to mask how I felt because I'm a product of my mother and I knew that she had done that one too many times.

I remember running around with my best friend, Joshua, at the time and we were having so much fun. My party was at a park so there was enough room for everyone. Joshua ended up kicking the ball in the bushes and I ran over to get it but not before I saw a taller male figure just watching me.

He was so creepy and since I was young I didn't really know better, all I wanted was my ball so I went over to go and get it. "Sorry, sir," I told him before running back to Joshua. When I turned back around, the man was gone. I didn't really see his face because it was covered in some sort of plastic but I could tell he was buff and a little lanky.

After that day I continued to see this man more and more but I didn't tell my parents. I thought it was nothing. I thought it was just a man who was lost in the world and trying to find his way around. But little did I know that he wasn't. That man was my father. Benjamin John Allen.

I didn't know much about him until the kids at my school starting to say that he was a murderer and that he killed my real mother. I never really liked when people talked about my mother so, I threw a fit. My mother was a very touchy topic to be brought up. Even though I only had her in my life for a short time I still loved and cared for her.

It was near Thanksgiving and it was beginning to get windy outside. As I walked home from school I carried a pumpkin since my grandmother wanted to make her special pumpkin pie. I stopped walking, happening to be standing in front of the house, but turned around to see my father standing inches before me.

"Sweetheart you've gotten so much bigger. You look just like your mother. So beautiful. So innocent," Benjamin states, as he places his hand on my cheek and stroked it lightly. My breathing got a little shaky when he did that, but that all stopped when my adoptive dad, Engine, came out.

"Stay away from my daughter," said the older male walking towards us and standing in front of the man. Looking at the two of them side by side, Benjamin was taller than him but he didn't have any muscle. But, just because it appeared as if he didn't, didn't mean he wasn't strong.

"You are making a huge mistake by keeping my daughter away from me," Benjamin told the male as he glared at him. He chuckled darkly as he walked away but not before saying, "Don't worry I'll be back."