Copycat. Alex Lake

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       16

      The worst thing about this was that it was everywhere, and it was nonstop.

      When she was twelve, Sarah had drawn the attention – for some reason she still did not understand – of a girl, Donna, in the year above her at Junior High. Donna had made her life a misery; she was much more physically developed than the rest of her class and everyone, boys included, was terrified of her, so when she cornered Sarah at break time and explained to her why she was a worthless piece of shit and a slut – Slutty Sarah, she called her, a name which Sarah did not even fully understand – then punched and kicked her, no one did anything to stop her.

      Although even if they’d wanted to they couldn’t have: the arrival of Donna was like a shark showing up among a bunch of swimmers – everyone’s first thought was to hope it wasn’t going to choose them as its prey, then, once it hadn’t, their main concern was to get out of the water.

      So Sarah did the only thing she could. She watched out for Donna and, if she saw her – at school or out in the neighborhood – she fled. It was simple: when the threat showed up, she did her best to get away. Eventually, Donna forgot about her and life went back to normal.

      Ironically, Donna was still part of her life. Her former tormentor was now a patient of hers who had chronic GI problems, but despite the fact Sarah was now thirty-eight and a mother of three and a successful physician, she still felt a tiny flutter of panic – run, it said, run – when she opened the door to the examining room and saw Donna sitting there.

      This, though, was different. The threat from Donna was easy to identify: no Donna, no threat. But this – it could come from anywhere. An email, a Facebook message, a phone call: she was constantly waiting for a message from someone claiming to be her. Claiming to be Sarah Havenant.

      Worse, she had no idea who it was, or what they wanted. Was it simply a latter-day Donna, getting kicks from causing other people pain? Or was it more sinister? She didn’t know, didn’t have any way of knowing, and she felt unmoored by the constant churning of her thoughts.

      She stopped at Jean’s house on her way back from work. In the kitchen, Jean and the kids were making dinner. Daniel was washing carrots and passing them to her so she could chop them. Paul was tidying up.

      ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ Sarah said. ‘My kids would be causing chaos. Yours are so helpful.’

      ‘Great parenting,’ Jean said, and shrugged. ‘Or I just got lucky.’

      ‘Well, if you have any tips, please pass them on.’ Sarah caught her friend’s eye. ‘Got a minute?’

      ‘Sure.’ Jean put the knife down and walked into the living room. ‘What’s up?’

      Sarah pursed her lips. ‘It happened again.’

      ‘The Facebook thing?’

      Sarah nodded. ‘But not Facebook this time. An email. To Carla, arranging a play date. Carla showed up at my house but – of course – there was no one there. So she texted me.’

      ‘Holy shit,’ Jean said.

      ‘I know,’ Sarah said. ‘I don’t know what to do. When it was just the Facebook thing it seemed’ – she paused – ‘it seemed like it might be harmless. Some online, virtual stuff. But this is more serious. It’s real. And it’s here. It’s my friends, showing up at my house.’ She shuddered. ‘It’s so personal.’

      ‘It does seem to be,’ Jean said. ‘Which is why I think СКАЧАТЬ