He clearly didn’t mind whoever broke in yesterday and wrote on my mirrors, so who’s to say this person hasn’t befriended my meathead dog and is sitting in my living room in wait?
I think about calling the cops, but then, if no one’s inside, I risk looking like an idiot all over again. Even though I never leave my door unlocked, I left in such a hurry for lunch with Allison. What if I did?
These are the circles I’ve been running myself in for two years, every time something happens.
Bear’s taken to whining now, and my stomach tightens as I grapple with opening the door to see who’s on the other side a moment longer before growing the gall to do so.
One. Two. Three.
Pushing the door open, I’m nearly knocked over by Bear sprinting outside. I’m left bereft in the fissure, my eyes scanning the interior of my home.
It’s small—a brick house built in the sixties. It’s dated, but it was affordable, and I liked the idea of slowly fixing it up and making it my little corner of heaven.
“Hello?!” I call out, stepping inside as Bear heels and follows me in.
I leave the door open behind me in case I need to make a quick exit, and I pull out the pepper spray Allison gave me before I left the restaurant.
I don’t know how to use it, but it’s better than nothing.
After searching my entire house, I find nothing.
I lock the door before sitting on the couch and dropping my head into my hands.
My heart is racing a mile a minute, and I know this stress isn’t good for my body. I don’t know who’s fucking with me, but I wish they’d stop.
For the first year, I honestly felt like it was karma. For what I did ten years ago, I deserved whatever was coming to me. I knew Allison would say that was crazy talk, so I kept her out of the loop.
I thought either the person was going to kidnap me, kill me, or eventually get sick of stalking someone so dull, but either way, I knew I brought it on myself.
I never thought I’d still be dealing with it going on over two years later.
I shoot Allison a text that I’m home and will be over in a couple of hours, and I decide that before I leave the comfort of my home, I’m going to shower and get into something comfortable.
Leaving Bear sprawled on the couch on his back, I move into my room and get undressed as the shower heats. Slowly, I pack a bag with enough things for at least five days, leaving my shower bag for last.
Moving through the motions of my typical shower feels robotic under the circumstances, and once I’m out and dressed, I feel like I probably should’ve waited until I got to Allison’s.
“Bear, we’re going to Auntie Allison’s house tonight!” I call out as I toss my bag over my shoulder.
Entering the living room, I find Bear sitting on the couch, looking toward the open front door, and I freeze at the sight.
“Bear, come.” I slap my leg, and he dutifully gets down and heels.
Fumbling in my purse, I grab the pepper spray and click the leather pouch open.
The inner door is open, while the glass storm door remains closed. However, a piece of paper is taped to the inside of the storm door.
No matter where you go, you’re mine. I’ll always find you.
Tears well in my eyes, and defeat prickles my heart. They knew I was leaving for Allison’s house. And doing so puts her in danger, too.
The knowledge has me shutting the door and leaving it unlocked before tossing my bags onto the couch, utterly thwarted.
Whoever this is knows my every move. I’ll never escape. I’ll never be free of this torment.
Again, my heart reminds me that I deserve it, and I pour myself a glass of wine and kick off my shoes.
Because if the stalker is going to find me wherever I am, I might as well be comfortable at home.
