As she waited for the lecture to start, Sam was slowly picking away at the strings on her bracelet, making them fray in all directions. Thinking to herself, she recalled her conversation with her mom this morning.
“Samantha, I want you home by 4:30.”, her mom told her, as she tells her everyday.
Sam just rolled her eyes in reply. She really wished her mom would let her come and go as she wanted. She was seventeen anyway.
Sam was boosted into reality when the auditorium doors opened with a bang and a woman started walking down the aisle.
The way she walked in gave the impression that she was someone important. She held herself high and walked forward with purpose. Her clothes were crisp and not a wrinkle was noticeable. She wore a jet black pant suit with a blinding white blouse. As she walked by Sam’s row, something on the woman’s shirt glinted and caught the corner of her eye. Oh s***, it was a badge. Her black heels clicked on the wood as she strolled up the stairs. Eyeing the audience with hatred, a sharp buzzing filled the room when she reached for the microphone.
“My name is Detective Hartley,”, her voice was strong and powerful. “and I’m looking for Samantha Webb.”
All eyes in the audience turned toward Sam who immediately sank lower into her chair. Detective Hartley was a predator as she walked toward her prey. Slowly, Sam stood up, just as Detective Hartley grabbed her by the arm. Her grip was firm as she dragged Sam out of the auditorium and toward the back of the squad car.

The office in the police station was exactly as she remembered it: cold and lifeless. The beige walls turned the room into a giant box. The only objects present were a metal table and two metal chairs. Sam sat in silence for a moment until Detective Hartley came into the room. Now it’s even more lifeless, she thought.
“Hello Sam. You do remember me, don’t you?”.
Sam rolled her eyes. Of course she remembered. It had only been about two weeks since her last run-in. Breaking and entering. She was lucky that the homeowners had decided not to press charges. She also remembered what Detective Hartley thinks of her. She looks at her as if she’s a delinquent who’s not good enough for society. Sam can even tell the woman can’t stand her clothing, ripped jeans, black boots, and black shirt. Intimidating yet ordinary, her own form of camouflage.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Good, then there’s no need for introductions.” Detective Hartley had a smirk on her face as she said it.
“That was quite the entrance you made in the auditorium, and in front of all those people. I’m almost positive that I haven’t done anything wrong.”, the sarcastic tone to her voice suggested otherwise.
“You haven’t… yet”.
In the blink of an eye, Detective Hartley slammed her briefcase on the table so hard it made Sam jump. The detective was going in for the kill. She pulled out what appeared to be photos. As Sam got a closer look, the photos were pieces of art. But not just any art… street art, vandalism. She did a double take when she saw the name of the artist. Spider Webb, that was the name Sam used when doing street art yet she didn’t remember doing this.
“Do you have any idea what this is?”, Detective Hartley asked in a harsh tone.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it does have your name on it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’ve seen you work Samantha, this is exactly the type of thing you would do.”
“No one calls me that anymore.”
As Sam took another glance at the photo, she saw it looked a lot like water. Raindrops of blues and purples falling into a lake. As the raindrops touched the water, it looked almost like ripples. This was the kind of thing she would do.
“Look Sam, this will be a lot easier if you just tell me the truth.” Detective Hartley was losing her patience. Her voice was sharp and she was glaring at Sam as if she were cutting a hole right through her, but, as far as Sam knew, she was telling the truth.
“I didn’t do this,” she said, trying to convince Detective Hartley and herself.
“Are you aware that lying in this situation could get you into a lot of trouble?”
“Yes.”
“We aren’t done with this conversation. It’s getting late, go home. We’ll finish this tomorrow.”
With that, Detective Hartley gathered her things and left, leaving Sam alone in that room. Sam was shaking, she didn’t know what to think. Was this some kind of a joke? Had she painted the raindrops? She just couldn’t remember. For the first time in her entire life, Sam was actually scared.

Sam decided not to bother her mom, or she didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of nearly getting arrested, so she walked home from the station.
As she walked up her street, she could hear the footfalls of someone behind her. She stopped for  a second, and so did they. Sam’s breathing stilled as she listened for movement. Continuing her walk, she heard a rustling in the bushes. She looked back but saw no one there. Paranoid, Sam ran the rest of the way to her house.
Arriving home, she bolted through the front door and ran upstairs to her room.
“Samantha! It’s almost 6:00! Where have you been?”, Sam’s mom called from the kitchen but she ignored her. Sam closed the door and failed at an attempt to slow her breathing. Slowly, she walked over to the window. Everything seemed normal, but then she saw him. She saw him hiding in the bush. She moved beside the window as to not be seen. As she watched him, she saw that he wore all black. Eventually, they made eye contact, and when they did, he turned and ran down the street.
As Sam watched him go, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the first time someone was watching her. Quietly, she turned off her lights and got into bed, just as the rain began to fall.