pieces of me
chapter one

Taylor smiled and waved at the fans as he passed. Their screams echoed through his brain, causing his headache to worsen. He pushed through all the backstage personal. Finally, he reached the temporary dressing room. He shut the door firmly behind him. He shut his eyes and leaned against the door. When he opened them again, he drew a quick breath. There were a dozen roses sitting on the table. That was nothing new, but this time it was weird. The roses were black, and they were dead. Taylor walked slowly over to the table. There was an envelope sitting beside the flowers. It had his name typed on it. He picked it up and ripped the top off. He pulled out a folded piece of paper, and opened it. A thick lock of black hair fell out onto the table. Taylor jumped back. He stared at the lock of hair, lying there. He decided to read the letter. It was typed, in small font, on a crisp sheet of paper. It read:

“Dearest Taylor, Today we meet. Tomorrow we will love. In the future we will die.”

Taylor dropped the letter on the floor. His heart was pounding. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? He and Zac had been at each other’s throats lately. But, would Zac sink this low? And wouldn’t someone get suspicious at him getting black roses? And where did that hair come from? Taylor heard someone knock on the door. He picked up the letter, and the lock of hair, stuffing them in his pocket. He threw his jacket over the roses. Unlocking the door, he came face to face with Zac.

“Hey, Taylor, we have to sign some stuff…” He said, looking at Taylor strangely.

“Um, okay,” Taylor replied.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Taylor followed Zac out. Taylor put on his automatic smile as he signed the fan’s autographs. He didn’t really pay any attention to them.

“Thanks for coming,” Taylor said to the giggly, blond, girl. She nodded and walked over to Zac. Taylor looked up at the next girl in line. She had thick black hair that hung in her face, and she was wearing deep crimson lipstick. She smiled a smile that made Taylor shiver.

“Hi, what’s your name?” He asked her.

“Satin,” The girl said.

“Wow, cool, I never met anyone with the name Satin before.” Taylor signed her things. She stared at him with her large, dark eyes. Then, it hit Taylor, the strangest thing about her, she had pure black eyes. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. He smiled his forced smile at her and she slowly walked on, her gaze unchanging.

Here they were again, almost like a repeat. A press conference. With screaming girls who had managed their way in. He scanned over their faces. They were crying, and carrying on like they always did. Taylor couldn’t help but think about yesterday’s strange occurrences. About the roses, the letter, the hair. He even thought briefly about Satin. There was something engaging about her, but he couldn’t figure out what. After an annoying hour of pestering reporters, and screaming teenyboppers, the conference was over. The Hansons went back to their hotel room. Everyone wanted to go out to eat, except for Taylor, he said he had a headache. It was partially true, but he really wanted to be alone. Time for himself was a rarity these days. His mother gave him a worried look, but he insisted he would be fine. After everyone had been gone for about fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door. Taylor opened it just a crack. There was no one standing there. He was about to shut it, when he saw them. A dozen dead roses. Just like the ones from yesterday. Taylor’s breath caught in his throat. He froze, afraid to move, afraid someone was out there, waiting for him to come out. He looked up and down the hallway, and didn’t see anyone. He grabbed the roses and the letter and quickly shut and locked the door. His heart was pounding madly. He put the roses on the table and opened the letter. It was typed on the same paper as last time, and it too had a lock of the silky black hair.

“My Dear Angel, Why do you worry so? There is no reason for you to fear, my darling. We met, like I said. Surely you remember me. And, though I love you today, as I loved you yesterday, we cannot be together. Not yet. But, you may think of me, for I think of you. I send you pieces of me, everyday. In the end I will fully be with you.”

Taylor’s stomach turned. He took the letter, and the hair, and put them with the ones from yesterday. They were hidden in the inside pocket of his suitcase. Nobody ever looked there anyway. He grabbed the roses and went out onto the balcony. He looked out, making sure no one was down there. It was oddly still. Taylor grabbed the flowers and crumbled them into bits. The dry pieces of petals fluttered down to the sidewalk. Taylor saw blood running down from two of his fingers. He had cut himself on the thorns. For a moment, he looked at the blood, leaving red stains down his wrist and arm. He shook himself out of the trance-like state and washed up to his elbows. He ended up falling asleep on the couch, and when his family returned there were no clues as to what had happened in their absence.

Soon, Taylor forgot about the strange occurrences. It had been over three weeks since the last one. They were at home, taking a break. Right now, his brother’s were out with some friends, and the rest of his family was grocery shopping or something. He was alone. He turned up his CD and danced around. He was enjoying himself quite a bit when he heard a door slam. He froze. Right away he thought of the strange things that had happened before. Were they here, coming to kill him? He grabbed his hockey stick and crept slowly towards where he heard the noise. It had been the back door. Taylor gasped when he saw them. The roses, a note, and a trail of blood. He couldn’t move. His heart pounded at an incredible rate. He swallowed. He wished he had gone with his family. He didn’t want to be here. He started to cry. Someone was going to kill him. He sobbed, not moving from his position. He stood there for fifteen minutes. Finally, he dragged himself near the doorway. He picked up the roses. He placed them on the little table with the phone. He picked up the note. He opened the envelope and a chunk of hair fell out. He was expecting that. He stepped away from the blood. The sight of it made his stomach churn. Unfolding the note, he read it out loud.

“My Dearest, Darling, Taylor, You’re afraid. I know you are. You had forgotten me. That hurts. You remember now, don’t you? Certainly I ring loud and clear. Are you going to run to mum and daddy? What can they do? Nothing. I have control of this. I have control, because I love you. I love you most. More than anyone, anywhere. You are my entire soul. Until we meet again, Think of me.”

Taylor saw his hands shaking. Who was this psycho? Why were they doing this to him? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should tell his parents. Something in the back of his brain fought with him, saying to keep it to himself. Blood was a little too much, he said. It’s your secret, the voice said. Taylor wiped the blood up with a wet paper towel, the red spread out all over it. It was a bright color. Almost beautiful, red was beautiful. Taylor shook himself. He didn’t consider it healthy to find blood fascinating. He took the roses far out to the corner of their land. He covered them in leaves. He brought everything else upstairs and hid it. He told himself he was doing the right thing, one more time, and went back downstairs.

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