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    High School Sociopath
    High School Sociopath
    High School Sociopath
    Ebook106 pages1 hour

    High School Sociopath

    By M.F. Smith

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    About this ebook

    Platinum, perky Sherri seems to be an average high school girl with dreams of one day becoming a Hollywood movie star, but her plans are upstaged when the mysterious counselor at her new school tells her that he knows her secret--she's a sociopath on the run--and he was sent to give her two choices; work for his shadow organization helping to track serial killers and psychopaths, or see her parents imprisoned before she's executed. High school pressure was never like this as Sherri juggles curriculum during the day, killers at night, the bewildering complications of having friends, and a sexy stalker with a hidden agenda of his own.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherM. Frances
    Release dateFeb 11, 2014
    ISBN9781311355799
    High School Sociopath
    Author

    M.F. Smith

    Haven't you heard? Death is the new red.

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      Book preview

      High School Sociopath - M.F. Smith

      High School Sociopath

      by

      M.F. Smith

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright © 2014 M.F. Smith

      License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter One

      The full moon overhead cast the massive French chateau in fairytale silver and transformed the manicured woods of Bleakpool Point, upon which it stood like a royal crown, into a miniature forest fastness as impenetrable as the most remote and unexplored wilderness.

      Ground was broken for the architectural masterpiece in the spring of 1885, when the construction company of Bleakpool and Leigh began building a lavish hotel that commanded unparalleled views of Port Salish and Castaway Bay. Portview Hotel opened its doors in 1891 and soared to immediate popularity and success with its nods to the arts, boasting a professional theatre, as well as to the Native Americans who had comprised much of the construction crew, with a restaurant featuring exquisite seafood dishes prepared by Puyallup Tribe chefs.

      Theodore Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, and Warren G. Harding were among the Presidential guests of Portview. James B. Killer Miller was rumored to have visited Portview when he was hired to kill an actor who supposedly seduced the wife of a wealthy producer back East. Roy Olmstead, successful bootlegger, frequented the Portview, and the uninterrupted flow of liquor in its theatre, night club, and restaurant, kept the hotel's popularity as high as its customers. Florence Mills, Duke Ellington, Joseph Frank Buster Keaton, and Charlie Chaplin were among the theatrical crowd who celebrated at the hotel, and it seemed that nothing could dim the lights of the Jewel Above the Bay.

      Late in October, 1929, Wall Street crashed and took the Portview with it.

      After a year of abandonment and vandalism, the city of Portview sought to reclaim and restore what was determined to be a historical landmark so the hotel was purchased, repaired and renovated into a school, and in September, 1932 the doors reopened—to Portview High School. The same fanciful chateau gazed upon Castaway Bay in 2015 as it had when construction was finished in 1891.

      Sherri Anderson spent her first night in Portview in a motel near Castaway Beach that afforded her with a peek-a-boo view of the high school she would attend. Her parents assured her things would be different here, that she would find activities with which to occupy herself and (she recognized the unspoken hope in their eyes), keep her out of trouble. Her parents took good care of her and Sherri appreciated that.

      She would show her appreciation by making every attempt to stay out of what they considered, trouble. The weekend in their new home town passed without event, she spent most of her time on the beach or hiking in the woods, alone, while her parents looked for work, a rental house, and enrolled Sherri in school. Starting in a new school as a sophomore could be challenging to the average teenager because most of the students would have formed social connections in their freshman year, but Sherri didn't socially connect so this posed no problem for her. The only class she insisted be in her curriculum was theatre.

      Sherri didn't sleep well that first weekend in Portview, which was unusual for her. Though she was an unusually light sleeper she still slept well, but this weekend her sleep was fraught with dreams that seemed oddly lucid, yet confusing—mostly because she didn't dream. She'd read that everyone dreamed and those who insisted they didn't simply were among the few who didn't remember their dreams, but Sherri was inclined to disagree, especially in light of the dreams she now experienced and recalled. She seemed to be different people in a wild kaleidoscope of strange, exotic places, and she was always being pursued by something, although it also seemed that she was chasing someone.

      There was also a man, but she didn't know him, although she'd read somewhere that you couldn't dream about anything you hadn't consciously experienced so she supposed it was some stranger she'd glimpsed on the street or television. Monday morning he woke her from sleep. He seemed desperate to tell her something, but she couldn't hear his warning and even though they ran toward each other down a long, dark hallway, they never met. And always, as in the other dreams, something pursued her relentlessly, close on her heels, reaching for her—

      She woke with a start and looked around, heart beating fast, breath short, as if she'd actually been running, but sunlight filtered benignly through her quarter open, yellow, woven wood Roman shades. Her nearly ultramarine eyes flicked nervously around the motel room, over bland and battered desk and dresser, small flat screen TV, and generic prints of generic beaches with nondescript bathers who gazed across the space of her room at each other with equanimity.

      Clearly, nothing in her room struck them as untoward, and she smiled.

      Sherri, her mother's voice from the opposite side of the door connecting her room to her parents' drew her eyes to it, though she didn't turn her head. You're going to be late if you don't hurry. You wouldn't want to be late on your first day.

      I won't be, Sherri assured her mother. She kept a mental shoebox of all of the things that average people thought were important. Not being late happened to be an idea with which she concurred. Timing could be everything. depending upon the circumstance. The door is open, she added, as an invitation.

      No, I'm sure you'll be on time, but we haven't driven in this area during rush hour so we might run into slow downs, her mother replied, stepping into the doorway from the connecting room where her father was buttoning a blue chambray shirt in preparation for a day of job hunting in the area. Meredith Anderson was still striking at nearly forty and Sherri was often teased for having a MILF for a mom. She didn't care about teasing any more than she cared about a goose honking or a phone ringing, they were only sounds.

      Were you able to enroll me in theatre?

      Yes, but you'll have to meet with the school counselor before you attend any of your classes. Apparently there's some sort of formal introduction. Will that be all right?

      Sure it will, thanks.

      Good, Meredith was clearly comforted. We'll pick up breakfast rolls for everyone on the way.

      ***

      Here we are, Meredith unnecessarily announced as she pulled into the circular bus drop-off in front of the castle-like high school. Sherri was sure she heard relief in her mother's voice and she smiled, trying to assuage her worry. "I'll pick you up at two-thirty. Sherri, do not get a ride with anyone else. Got it?"

      I got it, she assured her mom, opening the passenger side door.

      And good luck with the interview, her mother added. Just relax and be—yourself.

      Thanks, Mom, replied Sherri, hearing the split second of hesitation in her mother's voice and knowing her mom would probably encourage her to be anyone other than herself for this introduction.

      Sherri stepped easily into the flow of other students moving across the manicured and rather stately entrance courtyard, toward the

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