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ME: What, you gonna send me toes next?
UNKNOWN: Depends, are you still pretending to fuck other guys? Or would you rather yell at the ghosts in your house again?
My head snaps up and I stare into the depths of his hood. His phone is perched in his hand, waiting for my response. The lighting from his phone is set to low, the dim glow casting enough light to show me his wickedly sharp jawline and a portion of his smirking lips.
I lift my hand and flip him the bird.
Fuck you, asshole.
In response, his thumb starts moving, his smile growing wider.
UNKNOWN: I plan to.
I growl at his audacity. Like hell, he’ll fuck me.
ME: You come near me, I will stab you. I’m calling the police if you don’t leave right now.
UNKNOWN: So do it, little mouse.
I can’t tell if he’s telling me to stab him or call. I’d be happy to do both. I don’t like his insinuation that I’m the mouse and he’s the cat. That would mean he’s hunting me. The last thing I want to be is hunted.
Fuck. I hesitate. I need to call the police. I have to. But I can’t convince my fingers to move. He’s challenging me, and I hate that I’m scared to find out what he’s going to do if I do. I hate that I want to.
Heart pounding, I dial the numbers. He watches me closely as I press the call button and bring the phone to my ear.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
I breathe in deep.
“There’s a man that’s been stalking me. He broke into my house a week ago. And now he’s standing outside watching me.”
“He’s standing outside right now?” the operator asks. I hear typing in the background, accompanied by the smack of her gum.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Ma’am, is he doing anything? Does he have any weapons on him?” she asks.
“Not that I know of. Can you send someone out?”
More typing. “What’s your address, ma’am?”
I recite the address to her. She asks a few more pointless questions and informs me a cruiser is about five minutes out. She asks me to stay on the phone, but I don’t.
I click the phone off. My little shadow isn’t going to stick around long enough for the police to show up and catch him. He’ll disappear off into the woods he came out of, and never be found. I know this.
I can’t see his eyes, but I meet his gaze anyway. With one last smile, he types out a quick message. My phone buzzes, but I don’t look right away.
I’m too scared to.
And without a concern in the fucking world, he slowly turns and walks away. The darkness reaches out and grabs ahold of him, swallowing him into its depths until he’s vanished completely.
When the cruiser shows up, I already want him to leave. For reasons I can’t quite explain, I regret calling the police. I just… want him to leave.
The cop is an overweight man with short blonde hair and a ruddy face. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
I feel the same exact way.
“What’s going on here, ma’am?” he asks, huffing and puffing as he makes his way up the front porch.
