[Short Story] - Stalker

I checked my wristwatch for the second time the same minute. 6:07 a.m.

I was starting to get worried because the light in Alice’s bedroom still hadn’t lit up–she woke up at 6 o’clock sharp every day, went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, then made her way to the kitchen to put up the kettle for tea, and made herself a simple breakfast waiting for the water to boil. She was supposed to have two eggs and a slice of bread that day, like she did every Thursday, but if she wouldn’t wake up in the next three minutes, she would run out of time to prepare it.

I was starting to get worried. She never slept in, and never slept through her alarms, which I could most definitely hear going off through the window. It also wasn’t in her nature to leave the house once she’s showered and went to bed, even if anyone would’ve called her, so I was very doubtful of her leaving in the time I was gone. I was certain she had to be inside the house.

The more time passed, the more my thoughts went rampart with all the horrid ideas. My heart was pumping mad with adrenaline and at some point I just couldn’t take the pressure anymore. I had to do something. I had to at least try and wake her up.

I revealed myself from behind a tree and walked up all the way under her window. I wanted to call out her name at first, or just shout a random word very loudly, but figured it would alert the neighbors, too, and I couldn’t explain why I was shouting, let alone why I was there. Instead, I crouched down and picked some pebbles from the floor. I made sure I was out of sight of all her neighbors and started throwing them, one by one, into her bedroom window.

There was no sound from inside, no one opening the window to check what was going on. I must’ve thrown at least fifteen before frantically checking the time again.

I wasn’t afraid she’d miss her breakfast anymore, or that she’d miss out on her cup of tea, I was afraid for her wellbeing. For her life.

In panic, I ran over to the front door and rang the bell without even thinking of the possible consequences that might have. I knew I should’ve ran away after ringing, like the children do, but for some reason I didn’t budge, only kept on ringing.

A solid minute passed and I could feel the little droplets of sweat on my forehead combine together and slowly drift down to the tip of my nose as one big drop. High on adrenaline, instead of bailing out and anonymously calling the police, I concluded it was a good idea to break in through the open window in the kitchen.

I looked around, made sure nobody was around, then sprinted and mounted the wall just high enough to reach the window ledge. I pulled myself up and found myself in a very strictly organized, white-toned kitchen, just as was to be expected of her. As distracted as I was by all of her things I couldn’t see from outside and wanted to study in detail, I had to make my way to her bedroom as fast as possible.

I rushed through the door and found her in bed, lying motionless under the covers. I could feel my heart beat between my ears as I slowly approached her. Every moment was as exciting as it was horrid. I had never been that close to her before.

It didn’t take long for me to get close enough to see she was breathing. I also noticed the reason she had slept through all her alarms and door ringing. She was wearing ear plugs.

I knew I had to leave the room, and her house, the moment I found out she was okay, but the lust for her very presence drew me ever nearer, until I could practically feel her breath on my skin. I bent over her, pretending to caress her hair, when she suddenly woke up and started screaming like mad.

She and I both panicked, and I ran down the stairs and out of the house as fast as I could, but the damage had already been done. She had recognized me. We worked at the same company, only different offices, and also took coffee at the same place.

I nearly had a car accident on my way home, then locked the doors and nervously walked up and down my living room, trying to come up with a solution, a good alibi, or a good reason for why I was there.

It seemed like not even a single minute passed when I heard the knock on my door.

I hadn’t come up with anything useful, my clothes were drenched in my own sweat, and my hands were shaking with adrenaline. Everything about me called out guilty.

I knew running away wasn’t an option, they knew everything about me. I decided to open the door, and without even saying a single word, they jumped me and pinned me to the ground as if I were armed to my teeth.

I’ve been read my rights, told to be quiet, and brought to the station.

Together with my lawyer we came up with a good story and managed to strike a deal for only two years prison.

Something about the fire I saw in Alice that night made me want her even more, and I cannot wait to pay her a visit again.

Only next time I’ll make sure she cannot scream.