Ever since I turned eighteen, I have been receiving strange and unsettling messages from an unknown phone number. Recently, I even received a mysterious gift from an anonymous sender, which left me feeling uneasy. Along with the gift, there was a handwritten note that read, "I got my eyes on you." At first, I dismissed these incidents as harmless pranks, but last night, I experienced a chilling moment when I felt as though someone was watching me while I was asleep in my bedroom, heightening my sense of fear and paranoia.
Out of curiosity, I couldn't sleep but instead the silence pressed too heavily against my thoughts, so I crawled out of bed and drew the curtains open. That's when I saw it a shadow, standing unnervingly close to the little garden outside. It wasn't moving… just watching. For a moment, I froze, unable to move or even blink, the shadow stood completely still, my breath hitched for some time it felt as if I hadn't been breathing, my heart pounded so hard that I could hear it, i thought whoever or whatever is out there I could hear it out of fear I drew the curtains closed and turned on the lamp beside my bed, then i slide into bed and drew the sheets to cover my body. Although I could not find sleep I kept on tossing under the sheets restlessly
In Florida where the sun streamed through the tall windows of one the mansion in Bennett estate, painting golden streaks across polished marble floors. I paused at the top of the grand staircase, my long ginger hair cascading down my back, my hazel eyes catching the morning light with a siren like gleam. At five-foot-nine, I moved with the grace of someone born for the runway even if, for now, I was just in high school.
Soon, that would change, because Graduation was only a few months away, and New York already waited for me. Modeling agencies had been whispering my name since last summer, also my parents Mr and Mrs Harper has also been getting different calls from different modeling agencies and brands around the world, the city of lights and endless possibilities was eager to claim me, yet I was so happy but at the same time I was scared. Still, for now, I'm based in Florida, living the life of a billionaire's daughter while juggling homework, School projects, and the heavy weight of my family's expectations.
The dining hall below buzzed softly with the morning routine. My father's chair at the head of the long glass table sat ready black coffee steaming beside the morning papers from three different states. Butlers, servants and staffs moved quietly, setting dishes with the precision of a five-star restaurant. My mother,already sat with her tea, her calm presence anchoring the room.
"Good morning, Azalea," my mother greeted, her voice warm and filled with love, but her gaze lingering with quiet pride.
"Morning, Mom," I answered, slipping into my seat with the elegance I wore as naturally as my own skin.
It was the kind of morning that looked perfect from the outside. But Azalea knew better behind every perfect picture, there were always hidden cracks.
After some time my father walks into the dining hall, his suit already sharp, his phone pressed to his ear. He gave me a distracted nod before taking his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for the staff to pour his coffee while he continued his call. Deals, numbers, and deadlines filled the space between them, louder than the clinking of silverware.
I kept my eyes lowered, stirring my orange juice slowly. I loved my father, but mornings like this reminded me of how different our worlds were. He lived for power and expansion meanwhile I lived for moments of silence, for the thrill of sketching poses in my notebook, for dreams of New York streets and flashing cameras.
"Big day at school today?" My mother asked, breaking through my thoughts.
I looked up and managed a small smile. "School presentation. If I nail it, my English teacher promised extra credit."
Her mother's eyes softened with pride. "You always do well, sweetheart."
After what felt like forever my father finally
ended his call long enough to glance at me. "Focus on your studies, Azalea. Modeling will always be there, but your education is what builds respect." His tone carried the finality of a man used to being obeyed.
I didn't argue, but a knot tightened in my chest. I wanted to be respectful, but I also wanted to live my own life to chase the runway, to prove that I am not just the billionaire's daughter but a name people would know for my own achievements
A honk outside cut the tension. Her driver had pulled up in the sleek black Bentley that carried her to school each day. She rose gracefully, brushing a strand of ginger hair behind her ear.
"Good luck, darling, I love you" her mother called. " I love you too bye" I said as I left the house
Her father was already back on the phone.
I slipped out of the mansion, the air warm and heavy with the scent of orange blossoms. Sliding into the back seat of the car, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through messages friends asking about outfits for school pictures, a reminder about cheer practice after school, and one text that made me pause.
"You can't hide under your sheets forever, Azalea and by the way hope you slept well last night?"
My heart skipped. No name, no number I recognized. Just words that felt like a shadow creeping into my skin.
I read them again, my chest tightening."You can't hide under your sheets forever, Azalea and by the way hope you slept well last night?"
The thought of last night came back to her not being able to sleep because of she felt she was being watched and the shadow she saw at the garden from her window
Before she could reply, the car slowed, pulling into the familiar curve of Westbrook High. The driver's voice was calm, routine. "We've arrived, Miss Harper."
I slid my phone into my bag,
burying the unease beneath her flawless exterior. I then stepped out, my long legs carrying me forward with an elegance that drew stares. Some looks held admiration, others envy but I didn't care not wanting to let my guard down I kept her chin high, like the whispers didn't matter.
Inside the building, as soon as I sighted Lila, I waved at her and she quickly joined me, as usual. "Azzy, you ready to wow Mrs. Carson? 'Cause if you mess up, I'll faint from second hand embarrassment."
Azalea gave her friend a wry smile. "Thanks for the encouragement.
The bell rang as they slid into their English classroom. Mrs. Carson stood at the front, glasses perched low on her nose as she shuffled through papers. "All right student, Presentations today. I hope you've prepared, because graduation doesn't wait for excuses."
As soon as I was about to sit down I smoothed the hem of my uniform skirt and sat near the window, the sunlight catching my hazel eyes I forced myself to focus, but the weight of that text still lingered at the back of my mind.
"First up Mr. Gray."
The room buzzed as a tall figure rose from the back row. Christopher Gray. New student. Rumors about him had been circulating since the day he arrived last month moved from New York, sharp tongued, smarter than he cared to admit, with a reputation that followed him like a shadow.
I watched him walk to the front, hands shoved in his pockets, posture effortlessly confident. His eyes cold, piercing, a stormy gray that matched his name met mind for the briefest second before he began.
"Perfection," he said, his voice smooth, filling the silence. "It's a concept humans have been chasing for centuries. But the truth? It doesn't exist. Perfection is just a mask people wear to hide their flaws."
As the class listened, rapt, i sat frozen in her seat, a chill running down her spine.
Someone out there knew her cracks. And maybe just maybe Christopher Gray was connected to it she thought.
The thought echoed in my mind as Mrs. Carson's voice cut through. "Miss Harper, you're up next."
I stood up, while my long ginger hair flowing behind me as I walked to the front of the room. I suddenly felt the weight of every stare, but I had already learned long ago how to turn pressure into poise. Straightening my shoulders, I laid my notes on the podium and began.
"My presentation is on resilience," i said, my voice calm and clear. "The ability to rise after a fall is more important than never falling at all. Because perfection isn't real what matters is who you are when life tests you."
For a moment, the class was silent. Even Lila stopped scribbling in her notebook, watching me with quiet pride. I know and I could feel that my words carried the conviction of someone who lived under expectations every single day, even if no one else in that room understood the full weight of it.
When I finished, the room erupted in applause. Mrs. Carson adjusted her glasses, a faint smile breaking through her usual sternness. "Excellent work, Miss Harper. As always."
I Instantly returned to my seat, my eyes briefly meeting Christopher Gray's. He didn't clap he just looked at me, expression unreadable, but I quickly looked away
The bell rang, and the classroom spilled into chaos. Students rushed to their next classes, voices bouncing off the walls. Lila grabbed my arm, beaming. "See? Nailed it. I told you, Azzy you're untouchable."
"Maybe," I murmured, my mind still circling back to the message.
By the time they reached the cafeteria, the noise was deafening laughter, chatter, the clatter of trays. Me and Lila slid into our usual spot, and instantly, the whispers started.
"That's her, the billionaire's daughter."
"She's too perfect, it's annoying."
"Did you hear she's moving to New York after graduation? Of course she is."
Of course I could hear them, but instead I kept my posture elegant, her expression unreadable. I laughed at Lila's jokes, nodded politely when classmates asked about prom plans, but inside, I was miles away.
Suddenly my phone buzzed again. Which made my breath caught as I snatched it up
but this time, it was only a reminder from her modeling agency contact in New York about an upcoming virtual call. Relief flooded her, but it was laced with unease.
Because no matter how bright the cafeteria lights were, or how loud the voices around me grew, the shadow of that first message still lingered.
"You can't hide under your sheets forever, Azalea and by the way hope you slept well last night?"
And deep down, I knew it was only the beginning.