Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Fifty-Four: Identity

Just a boring filler chapter! I didn't want the chapter to be way over 6,000 words, so I cut it into two chapters.

There's only a chapter and epilogue left until Stalked By A Serial Killer is officially complete!

Vote and enjoy!!!

Chapter Fifty-Four: "Identity."

I HELD THE PIECE OF paper firmly in my hand, staring at it like it was the most valuable thing in the world.

It wasn't–it is.

This piece of paper held my entire life in it, and now it's just vanishing.

It was a long process; getting my identity changed. It took months worth of paperwork, and now everything was ready and in action. My college accepted and talked to the police station, situating why my name's needed to be changed, but not why. They understood immediately with–surprisingly–no questions asked.

Now, everything is done, and all I have left to do is live my life.

And wait for my father.

After the incident that happened last night, Megan and I still have yet to tell the two boys what happened. As far as they know, it was just a question because I 'mistook' Megan as an intruder. Nobody suspected that anything was wrong, and thankfully my neck goes unnoticed. Her and I agreed to tell them once we got back from burning our identities.

A squeeze of my hand pulls me away from my mind, and I glance up to see Tyler looking at me expectantly, but I can't find the strength in me to throw it into the scorching flames right in front of me. "You're a much better person now without that name, sunshine. It's time." He whispers in my ear, rubbing my back in soothing circles.

"I know," I murmur, my voice still slightly hoarse. As far as Tyler knows, I may be coming down with something, which can be related to my back and neck pain–which, by the way, multiplied with the fight last night. "That's why it's so hard to let it go. I grew up like this, with this exact copy, and to think that I'm just burning it like firewood is so exciting, yet it scares the shit out of me."

"I know, baby. I'm doing this with you, remember. We need this for us. Do you need another minute?" He asks.

I give a sad smile but don't look at him as I shake my head. "No. I'm ready to let go." Tyler gives me a large kiss on the forehead that makes a bunch of electricity run through my blood, and suddenly I don't feel bad about it. Living this life was extremely difficult for me, and knowing that I am simply getting rid of it in seconds makes my blood rush and a huge boulder be lifted off my shoulders. For so long, I've lived in abuse, hatred, and everybody's baggage. I was abandoned, I was loathed, and I was beat. Beat to my last breath, yet, only a simple gunshot wound to a nonfatal location in my body managed to kill me three times in the hands of people who were trained to not let that happen?

I was somewhat thankful knowing that my father wasn't the one who actually killed me himself; he was just the one who ran it. But now that I know he isn't finished, and is in New Orleans or at least Louisiana, my heart races at the fact that my fourth life could be my last one, and that there was an extremely great chance that Charlie would be taking it.

I take one last look at my birth records, and scan over the information one last time.

Birth Name: Morgan Johanna Peters

Birth Date: July 17th, 1999

Race: Caucasian

Nationality: American