The Stalker

In the warmth of the summer sun, I stand on the beach, looking out at the rolling waves and breathing in the salty air. I feel a deep sadness, leaving the sea. Sighing, I turn around and turn to my best friend, Jane. Together we make our way through the beach and up to the parking lot. Our two-week-long vacation at Revez Island had finally ended, shifting the mood almost immediately. The trip had been filled with sandy beaches, drinks, music, relaxing, and a bit of exploring. Now, it was back to regular life. Jane and I wouldn’t see each other for the next three weeks, our schedules packed with work. She works as a hairstylist and I am a tattoo artist.

“Lana, slow down,” Jane shouts from behind me

I halt in my steps, looking behind me, waiting for my best friend to catch up.

Jane’s long ginger hair blows in the wind, her green eyes squinting in the bright sun as she makes her way to me. Making our way through the sandy shore, we use towels to wipe our feet off before climbing inside the car.

For a few moments, neither of us talks as we get ourselves situated, putting on music and getting ourselves comfortable for the long trip ahead of us.

The next hours are spent getting to the airport, going through security, getting on the plane, and flying home.

“It looks like it’ll be past midnight by the time we land,” Jane informs, looking at her watch.

“Not as bad as the flight over. That should bring us back to my place by 1-1:30 depending on traffic. You want to crash at my place for the night and just go home later?” I ask

“That would be perfect. Baxter has a doggy door so he’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Baxter, her four-year-old grey and white pit bull is one of the sweetest pups I’d ever met. Although we don’t have children or partners, we hang out often, spending time together and letting our pups play together.

Four hours later, we are pulling into my driveway. I park my black car right beside Jane’s. Grabbing my coffee, I climb out of the car. Jane does as well.

Before us sits a small home. We make our way up to my porch. I spot a bouquet of white flowers wrapped together with a golden ribbon. Confused, I pick them up. Jane asks who they’re from and I look for a card or name on a tag but there’s nothing. They look relatively fresh, delivered recently.

“Odd. Perhaps they delivered to the wrong person.” I say twisting the key in the lock and we make our way inside

We make our way through my cozy home, a small house filled with plants and cats, into the living room, sitting beside the large fireplace. She stands, loading it up with a few more pieces.

Grabbing a vase from the cabinet, I fill it with water from my kitchen sink and carefully place the flowers inside the vase. The thorns had been removed but on the off chance this was a neighbor delivery mix-up, I want to keep them in as perfect condition as possible until I figure out a solution.

In the morning, I open my door to let the house air out a bit from the morning cooking. Looking upon my doormat, I see a large paper file that someone had placed there. Confused, I reach down and pick it up. I hadn’t been expecting any packages or mail. Flipping it open, I hold it up to the porch light. Every muscle in my body tenses as I look at the contents of the file. Inside is an image of me, inside my house, walking down the street, grocery shopping, etc. They seemed to be taken in the span of the past few months based on the activities. I flip through every photo.

What is this?

Someone’s been watching me?

Someone’s been stalking me, my every move, for months. Why?

“What’d you get?” Jane asks curiously as she makes her way to my side.

I look from the file to her.

Unable to find the words, I just hand it to her.

“What the fuck?” She states, just as shocked as I am.

Without another word, she grabs my arm and runs back to the car, shoving me into the passenger seat and getting into the driver’s side. We’re out of the driveway and down the road before I can even process any of it. Jane’s expression is a whirlwind of fear and sadness.

“Where are you taking us?”

“The police station.”

Two hours later, I walk out of the police station, now even more furious at my current situation. After explaining everything in as much detail as I could, even providing the evidence, the officer told me that there was nothing they could do. I had no name to give them, after all. They could be looking for anyone. I needed to get protection, keep a record, and take action once a crime occurs. Until the stalker broke the law, there was nothing they could do. Climbing back into the car, I relay the information to Jane.

Without a word, she makes her way out of the station.

She stares down the road with a look of anger and determination.

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“Jane, I can’t put you in danger.”

“This creep knows where you live, Lana. Pictures over months.”

“I know. That’s my point. We don’t know what this person knows. What if they know where you live too?”

She taps her thumb against the steering wheel, a habit she does when thinking. She changes her blinker from right to left, changing directions altogether. Confused, I wish to ask again but I know I shouldn’t.

How had I never noticed or felt someone watching me?

Why is this creep watching me?

Finally, pulling into her driveway, she parks. We make our way inside quickly.

She makes her way over to a drawer and then back to me. In her hands, a small handgun. I stare at her, wide-eyed in shock at my best friend.

“Jane, I appreciate it but I can’t take that.”

“Lana, be smart. You need to protect yourself.”

“I’m a good shot thanks to our practice sessions. I just don’t want to get you in trouble if this becomes a fatal fight.”

“Take it, just in case. Please.”

The next morning, I sit on the couch, bundled with a blanket as I sip my coffee. I snack on one of the donuts we’d made last night, a sad attempt at trying to forget my scary situation. There’s nothing that could be done in the moment anyway. The police were of no help as the stalker skirts around the law, not causing any true issue that I can prove, just emotional hell for me.

Jane begins to stir beside me. She hadn’t felt comfortable leaving my side from the moment I’d opened that package. I’m grateful beyond words to have such a caring and kind person in my life. Without her, I would be facing this completely alone as I have no one else. I don’t feel comfortable dragging her into this, having no idea what the mystery person is capable of.

The sky continues to pour down rain.

Taking another swig of coffee, I watch as Jackie sits up, stretching.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“An hour or two, probably.”

I sigh, rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes.

“What do I do, Jane?”

“Well with Creeper Guy walking around, you can’t go home.”

“I know but it doesn’t feel right to be here either. I’m putting both of us in danger.”

She places her hand in mine.

“I would rather have you here than by yourself.”

Her cell buzzes. She pulls it from her pocket, swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

She sits waiting a moment.

“Hello?”

Pulling the phone away from her ear, she hangs up.

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know. Nobody answered.”

We sit enjoying our coffee and breakfast. A few moments later, her phone rings again. She answers it the same as before, and hangs up again.

“Why call if you don’t talk?” She questions, annoyed.

Soon her phone buzzes so much that she answers, snapping immediately.

“What do you want?” She demands angrily

The answer makes her go pale.

She ends the call, calling someone else.

“Hello, my name is Jane Erinson at 2857 Setes Drive. I have a stalker on the property.”

She is quiet as she listens to the person on the phone.

“Yes ma’am. I have two handguns, Desert Eagles..”

She walks forward to the window, looking out.

“I can’t see anything.”

Ending the call, she puts her phone in her pocket.

“Cops are on the way. Stay armed. Stay alert.”

Twenty minutes later, the darkness is lit up by flashing blue lights. Jane makes her way to the door, allowing the officers inside. Three officers step inside. One remains with us. We stand aside as they walk about the property, guns drawn. They search carefully, returning to us as quickly as they can. By the disappointment in their eyes, it’s clear they found nothing.

The silence of the night is broken by the sounds of breaking glass. Sitting up, I remove the gun from beside my pillow, aiming it towards the door. I move behind the bed, peeking out slightly. I listen for the sounds of footsteps approaching my room but there’s nothing. Jane lets out a piercing scream. I move to stand but freeze, wondering if that’s the right choice. I want to help Jane, it’s the first thought that comes to mind but I have no idea who is here. He could also have a gun. I make my way to the door, quietly opening it.

Slowly, I creep through the hall, surprised a shot hadn’t rang out.

From behind me, someone slams hard into my back, the gun scattering into the darkness. I stumble, turning around to face my attacker. Before me is a figure dressed in black from their jeans to the mask concealing their face. They step forward and I swing. Blocking my attack, their hands grip my arm, shoving me hard against the wall. I move to headbutt the person and am instead, slammed hard into the wall yet again. Sharp pain spreads from the back of my head to the front. I groan in pain, tears welling in my eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” The voice grumbles

My eyes widen, recognizing the voice to be my ex-boyfriend, Daniel.

“What did you do to Jane?” I demand a voice coming out a lot more slurred

It confuses me.

Come on, focus.

I have to help Jane.

He slams me against the wall again.

Jane.

Get to…

Releasing me, he watches as I collapse to the floor.

I move to stand only to collapse after a few steps, my body falling before me. The injury to my head is much more serious than I thought. My vision begins to blur. Seeing the shadow of movement, I raise the gun and fire. A loud sound of an explosion rings out and after, I cannot hear anything except loud ringing in both ears. My eardrums ache. I can’t keep my eyes open long enough to see if I’d hit him before it all goes dark.

I’m startled awake, blinded by bright light. Startled, sensation returns to my body as I fully wake and I feel hands touching me. I jerk away immediately, unable to see my surroundings. I smack at the hands to let me go. A woman appears before me, dressed in white, trying immediately to calm me.

“Lana, you’re in the hospital. My name is Doctor Jenny, and I’m going to be one of the staff treating you today.”

Her voice sounds distant although she stands right in front of me.

“ The injuries are not severe. You’re going to be okay. You have a few cuts, bruises, and a mild concussion. Your ears were not severely damaged and will heal, given time and treatment. For now, you need to rest.”

Everything fades away again.

The next day, an officer is at my doorway.

“Hello, Lana. I’m Officer Kasey Gracen. I’m here to learn about what happened to you.”

“Is Jenny okay?”

She stares at me, saying nothing.

“I couldn’t protect her last night. I need to know if she’s okay.”

“Jenny is being treated for a broken leg and a concussion. Lana, none of this is your fault.”

“Did you catch him? My ex-boyfriend, Daniel?”

I’d regained consciousness in the ambulance, only long enough to pass along his name to the medical responders.

The officer’s expression remains grave.

This isn’t good news.

“There was no sign of the suspect. We will do everything we can to get you justice.”

I suppose this ought to give me hope but it doesn’t. They hadn’t taken me seriously. Jane and I could’ve died tonight and they didn’t catch him.

What’s to stop him from coming back?

What if he succeeds the second time?

Eight months later, much has changed. Jane’s broken leg had healed. I stayed by her side through her physical therapy and soon enough, she recovered. My concussion had slowly healed but the frequent headaches remained. We had saved up, working overtime as much as possible in our roles to move out. Instead of simply moving to a new home, we moved across the country, to be certain that the stalker could not find us. We did everything we could think of. In our new home, we spent a large sum preparing it. Not only were the hedges trimmed, motion sensor lights installed but we also had a security system and round the clock trained guard dogs as well as cameras.

Jane and I had finally conquered our fears of leaving the safety of our routine and went out on a cruise, hiring a guard to keep an eye on the property and do basic care for the dogs until we returned a week later. Now, pulling up the driveway, excitement fills me knowing we’re going to see the pups.

I make a mental note of maybe making a gate around the property. Being over five acres, it would be quite the investment, especially a coded gate..

“You know what sounds good?” Jane asks, parking the car.

“What’s that?” I ask turning from the house towards her.

“Tacos.”

I lighten up at this idea.

My stomach grumbles in response.

“Love it. We can unpack later.”

We climb out of the car, stretching our legs, bodies aching a bit from the long drive. Grabbing my coffee from the car, I wait as she locks it. Together, we make our way up the driveway and into the house. The night is filled with music, cooking, and movies, a happy and peaceful moment after so much chaos. It had taken months to relax after no activity. I only hope it’s over.

I’d stayed over the first few months as Jane healed. That was the excuse anyway. To be honest, I think neither of us wanted to be alone.

It seemed too much of a risk.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to my house.

Finally, three weeks later, I am back inside my own home. The first week, cops had closed off my estate, checking for signs of evidence. After weeks of waiting, there was nothing found, no fingerprints, DNA, or anything. This creep had broken into my home, attacked me, and left without a trace.

Waking the next morning, I groan when I open my eyes, blinded by the sunlight. Hearing the faint sound of my doorbell, I stand, making certain not to disturb my pup in the process who lies in the bed. I make my way out of my room and down the stairs. I walk through the kitchen, smelling the brewing coffee on the counter. Looking through the peephole, relief fills me as it is empty. I open the front door, looking about, just in case.

There’s nobody there.

I wonder if maybe I’d imagined it.

Maybe I hadn’t been awake enough and dreamed it?

Sighing, I close the door, locking it behind me. Rubbing my eyes, I make my way through the living area to the kitchen to make myself some coffee.

The doorbell rings.

This time I know I haven’t imagined it.

Turning around, I make my way back to the door, unlocking it and opening the door. I stare in stunned silence at the sight before me. Sitting upon my steps is an array of countless roses, all de-throned and organized in an array, tied together with gold ribbon.

I know without a doubt that they are from him.

I hadn’t been as lucky as I’d thought.

Both of us walked away from the bloodshed.

Now he’s found me.

Again.