Bonnie: A Vigilante Justice Crime Thriller

10

Tara Phoenix

© Copyright 2018 by Tara Phoenix  All rights reserved. No part of this publication maybe be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Chapter 1

Erica flips through pages while sitting at her desk. The pages consist of her remarks regarding her students. She finally comes across the one she is looking for, Jessica Stevens. The page reads:

Jessica has made it clear that she does not want to participate in the classroom. She actively avoids eye contact with her classmates as well as me. Despite her lack of interaction, she is a very smart girl. She is always one of the first kids to finish her activities; whether it is math, spelling, or arts and crafts, I am never waiting on her. I try to spend as much one on one time with her, talking, joking around, and nurturing her ability to communicate with others; however, with cuts to funding and classroom size continually growing, I am getting less and less time to do things like this.

I am concerned about what kind of environment she is receiving at home. Is she receiving enough attention? Is she allowed to express herself? If she is not receiving these things, her ability to interact in society later on in life could—and will—be affected. If this is a case of a mistreated child, I may have to contact social services.

Erica looks over her comments and becomes concerned about the interaction she is about to have with Jessica's father. There is a knock at the door.

Come in, Erica says. A tall, dark-haired man wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket opens the door and walks in. His boots make an ominous clip, clop noise; it is like he is forcibly stomping the ground. As he sits down across from Erica, he slides off his mirrored aviators. They sit in silence for a moment, staring at each other before Erica says, Hi there, my name is Erica, I am Jessica’s teacher.

No shit lady. Jessica’s father says. Erica is caught off guard by his rudeness but presses on. What is your name?

Does it matter?

Well I would like to be able to address you by name, she says still retaining her politeness.

‘Fine, it’s John."

Okay John, well I have quite a few things that we need to discuss, first—

Listen, lady. I don’t plan on being here for more than 10 minutes. Let’s be honest, the kid’s in kindergarten, how much could there be to talk about—I mean I hate to rock your world with this comment sweetheart, but in all reality, I don't think you are anything but a glorified babysitter. The kids aren’t learning rocket science yet, are they?

Pardon me, Mr. Stevens?

I call it how I see it.

I am sorry sir if my qualifications do not meet your standard, but the problem with your daughter does not stem from me.

Problem?

Yes, a serious one at that. Jessica lacks the ability to interact with others on the playground or in the classroom. She is a brilliant girl and receives all of the attention that I can give her, yet she resists any attention I give her. I am genuinely concerned about her success in the future. Human interaction is essential for success.

And this is my fault how? From the sounds of it, you are not doing your job very well. John says as he sits up and looks at Erica sternly.

I am not here to lay blame, but I am worried about what kind of environment is surrounding Jessica at home. What kind of attention she is receiving from you and her mother, is she able to express herself, and if she has a strong support system. The kind of relationship a child has with their parents often influences their future relationships. I was hoping that both of Jessica’s parents were going to be here tonight so that we could have a frank discussion on how all of us, as a team, can move forward in Jessica’s best interests. Erica says.

John shifts in his chair a moment, pondering what Erica has just told him. He looks up at her and says, Jessica’s mother is dead.

I’m so sorry for your loss Mr. Stevens, Erica says.

It’s fine, she was a terrible mother, John says. Erica does not know what to say to this comment; she is stunned by John’s indifference. She died giving birth, and the only reason I have Jessica is that the stupid DNA test says she’s mine.

Okay, well what do you think we can do to remedy this situation? Erica says, trying to shift the conversation back to the issue at hand.

The way I see it, there is no we in this situation, there is only you. You are her teacher; teach her to interact with others, teach her to be better, and most of all, leave me out of it.

Sir, you are her father, you have to be involved. I understand that you did not ask for any of this, but now you have to contribute; if not for your sake, for Jessica’s. She retorts and her voice is rising.

You have no right to talk to me like this, he says.

I can’t help it. I can’t stand talking to someone who so clearly mistreats a child. It's disgusting, and I am of the right mind to call social security and tell them Jessica’s situation. She says in an almost yell.

Don’t fucking threaten me bitch, John says standing up. The back of his legs pushes the chair down. His hands clenched and there is anger in his face. Erica kicks back from her desk as well and raises her hand onto the fire alarm. Take one more step, and I’ll scream while I pull this. Not only will the rest of the teachers rush in here to find out what is going on, but a call will also go out to the fire department, and police officers will accompany them. You will be in jail by the end of the night.

Fuck, John says mutters in a defeated voice. He looks to the floor, thinking about what his next move will be.

Get the hell out of my classroom. She stares at him with determination. Don’t think I won’t do it. She says firming up her grip on the fire alarm. John pauses for a moment before relaxing his hands, putting his aviators back on and walking to the door. He opens it, but stands in the doorway for a moment. John reaches up and tears a child’s finger painting off of the wall, crumbles it and drops it on the floor. Turning around to Erica he says, You best keep your mouth shut or else you’re going to have a much bigger problem than a shy kid in your classroom. He slams the door and storms off down the hallway. Erica lets go of the fire alarm and crumbles to the ground. She starts sobbing as she curls up into the fetal position.

The door creaks as it opens slightly. Erica jumps in fear and maneuvers her body backward away from the door. Erica, is everything alright? She grabs her chest in relief; she has never been so happy to hear Robert’s voice. Taking a deep breath, she says, Yeah, I’m okay.

Once Robert has opened the door and sees Erica pale face and her eyes all puffed from crying, he races over to her and puts his arms around her. Are you okay?! He says. What happened?

Just a little bad parenting, she jokes. She flashes Robert a smile, and he lessens his grasp on her. She regales him about John and how he reacted to Erica’s threats. Robert believes she was far too forward with the parent, especially because it was the first time that she had ever met him. But, he never said this to her. After the two had calmed down, Robert offered her a ride home, but she declines and tells him that she is close enough. I need to walk this off and think about what I am going to do about Jessica, she says.

Alright, fair enough. Be safe Erica, Robert says and leaves the room. Erica gathers her things, packs her backpack, turns off the lights of the room, and leaves her classroom for the last time.

The brisk air bites Erica’s skin as she walks down the street. There is a fresh layer of liquid on the road, and a dewy scent reaches her nose. It rained while she was in her parent teacher conferences. There is an incredible quietness about this night. There are fewer vehicles than she expected, and some of the street lights are out. Nonetheless, she troops along enjoying the puddles. Erica is an amazing kindergarten teacher because she is still a child at heart.

A chilly wind blows down Erica’s back after jumping into an unusually large puddle. The water splashes her jeans giving her the chills. She stops to pull a sweater out of her bag when car lights shimmer on the wet pavement. She turns around to see a minivan driving behind her slowly. Due to the proximity to the school that she works at, the neighborhood is full of young families, so she shrugs off the vans odd speed as a soccer mom driving home with her children after practice. It is not until the van reaches a distance of ten feet away that she becomes uncomfortable. The vans speed does not increase. Instead, it slowly follows her. Erica starts to walk faster. The van accelerates to keep its distance. She looks over her shoulder to get a better look at the van tailing her, but the lights blind her and she is unable to make out a description of the vehicle. Being an intelligent girl, Erica gets out her cell phone, turns it on, and starts to dial 911 when the lights of the van vanish. Out of fear, Erica drops her cell phone and starts to run. The van gathers speed until it is in front of her; it deviates to cut off her path, and a man gets out of the driver side door. Erica veered towards a house, but she didn’t even reach the front lawn. He grabbed her and threw her onto the pavement, her head hit first, breaking her nose and gashing her eye. Her senses stripped from her. The man turns her over, and she catches a brief glimpse of his face; it is not who she thought it was. As this fleeting thought floats across her mind, the man raises his fist