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When I was a kid,I swore my grandmother’s house was haunted.
She lived in an old country home in France, with so many staircases and rooms you could get lost for hours. When I found myself in a dark hallway, the rooms around me closed and draped, the portraits on the walls seemed to follow me with their eyes. The floorboards would creak with each step, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
And at night, when I would lie down in my room, I would listen to the ticking of the clock and the clicking of the settling house. I felt eyes on me all the time. My feet stayed tucked tightly under the covers because I was afraid if any part of me was out from under them, something would grab me. And I couldn’t turn over because having my back to any part of the room was terrifying.
Eyes were always on me. I could feel them. Constantly.
And that’s how I feel now. It’s been three days of this. Panicked walking to and from work, triple-checking that my door and windows are locked. Anyone on the street could be someone watching me, following me. I’m running on fumes, only getting a few hours of sleep a night, broken up by panic-inducing nightmares.
I contacted the website, and they took immediate action, banning my stalker from the entire site while scrubbing their entire profile. But that didn’t stop them from still finding a way to contact me. Not that I should be shocked. They found my name and where I live, so finding my phone number probably wasn’t the hardest thing for them.
Unknown Number: You reported me? Smart girl. I’m glad to see you’re finally taking your safety seriously.
Unknown Number: For future reference, I think you should steer clear of using your birth year in your usernames.
Unknown Number: Don’t ignore me, doll face. I know you’re home right now. I know you’re reading these messages. Talk to me.
Unknown Number: That pink sweater looks beautiful with your eyes, Clara, baby.
I finally texted them back, disturbed by how close they must actually be to me.
Clara: Leave me alone. Please. I’m not interested.
Unknown Number: Of course you are, doll face. You are far more interested than you think you are. Tell me, when you walked home Wednesday night, did that little slice of fear lead to something more? A little excitement, maybe?
How they knew that about me, I don’t know. But it threw my nerves into overdrive. How could they possibly know that I was feeling more than fear? Even I didn’t understand where that came from.
Clara: Please, leave me alone. I’m begging you. Leave me alone.
I shouldn’t have even interacted with them. I should have blocked their number. But that little thread of excitement, that little secret part of me that was curious as towhy me, couldn’t stop my fingers from answering.
Unknown Number: That’s not begging, doll face. But I will have you on your knees for me soon. I bet you’ll look so pretty, those gorgeous eyes of yours looking up at me, tearing up because you need me so badly. I can’t wait to hear you beg me to fuck you.
Unknown Number: You’ve gone quiet, my sweet girl. Where have you gone?
Unknown Number: For someone who took their clothes off so readily for me before, you’ve gone quite shy on me now.
Unknown Number: Play with me, doll face.
Unknown Number: Look, I didn’t want to have to take drastic measures. But I will, Clara. If you force my hand.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, ignoring their latest threat, and serve the next customer in line. I’m on autopilot, making coffee and warming pastries. It’s Saturday, and we are busy as hell. Vanessa doesn’t work today, and I’m thankful for the break. She’s insisting I need to contact the police, but what are they going to do?
When the line finally dwindles, I start cleaning up behind the counter while the other two people working with me make sure the tables are cleaned and the trash isn’t overflowing. God, I feel like I’m walking through mud, my movements slow and agonizing. I need some fucking sleep.
“Could I have another black drip, please?” I look up at the person on the other side of the bar and try my hardest to look awake. They’re beautiful, with shocking blue eyes and black hair that’s pulled up and away from their face, showing off the shaved sides. I blink myself back into my body.
“Yeah, of course. Size?”
They grin.
“Regular, please.”
“Having a good weekend so far?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at them. I catch them staring at my ass, and even though I’m too exhausted to fully enjoy it, it does give me a little confidence boost. Who doesn’t like an insanely attractive human giving them some attention?
“Sorry.” They clear their throat and do their best to look sheepish for being caught. “Yeah, it’s okay. Just in town for a little bit for some work stuff. Needed a hefty dose of caffeine to get me going.”
“Here you go.” I slide the coffee to their side of the counter and catch myself staring again. They’re taller than me, which isn’t hard, seeing as I’m just over five foot on a good day, and there’s just something about them that draws me in. “Enjoying your visit?”
