To Be Stalked

            by Melissa Wee

 

            “I have a stalker.” Alexa was surprised by the cheerfulness in her own voice. It was unnatural. The word “stalker,” said with such joy, by such a plain girl as Alexa, felt… off. Not that she was ugly. Her undefined features-- flat pale hair, a soft figure, and brown eyes-- just weren’t ones to be stalked. She coughed. “I have a stalker,” she repeated, going for a graver tone, and waited for a response from one of her two friends.

            “Cool,” Jonah said slowly, as he stirred his green tea. Jonah was lanky, brown-haired, and brown-eyed. He wore a shirt and shorts, despite the rain beating against the coffee shop window, and mismatched socks. Even with the dark sky, the looming storm clouds and his mother’s warnings, he had, “Like, no clue at all it would even rain.” Luckily, he didn’t mind the cold or his soaked clothes.

            Samantha, however, was completely dry, with her black pea coat and oversized umbrella draped on her chair. She was a stunning red-head, with a sharp chin, high defined cheek-bones, and huge sapphire eyes. She swallowed her non-fat cappuccino.

            “Oh you mean that ugly emo dork in Chem? Fred? Francis? Something? Really, Alexa, I don’t think he’s that into you-- he stares at everyone. Yesterday I caught him looking down my shirt,” Samantha touched her collar protectively, “and I think I threw up in my mouth a little. But I mean, you two would suit eachoth--”

            “No, Samantha!” Alexa said, spurting out a little chai tea. “Not Frank, ew no.”  “Dude, wait, Frank?” Jonah said, pulling his eyes away from the depths of his green tea. “Wait, he stares at me too, swear to God.”

            “No Jonah, not Frank. I have a stalker. Like, a real stalker.” Alexa looked helplessly at her friends. Samantha was busy reapplying mascara and Jonah was now watching his tea’s swirling steam.

            “Dude and it’s hella awkward,” Jonah said, his eyes drifting with the tea’s steam, “because, like, what am I supposed to do when I catch him staring at me like--”

            Alexa took Jonah’s tea from him and snatched Samantha’s mascara. Samantha gasped.

            “What the hell? Look, Alexa, we get it, you think little Fred, Fran, whatever-- Ugly Emo Boy has a crush on you. Good. Great. Now give me my mascara,” Samantha said, snatching it back. “Eric will be here any minute.”

            Alexa reached into her bag, took out a thick 8 x 11 inch envelope and dropped it onto the table.

            “Shit, dude-- is that for college? Secondary something report?” Jonah asked scratching his head. “Shit I gotta do those.”

            “No,” Alexa said putting her wet, stringy hair into a bun. “They’re photos.” She took the fairly thick stack and spread the glossy papers along the table. Jonah looked up from his green tea and stared at them. Samantha slowly lowered her mascara.

            “Jesus,” Samantha said, snapping shut her mirror. “When--how’d you get these?”

            “Last night- I got home from soccer and found the envelope on my bed.”

            “Wait, what? Your bed? Who—” Samantha jumped and took her vibrating cell phone out of her pocket. “Eric hold on a minute, Alexa has a stalker!” She snapped it shut. “Who the hell could have taken these?”

            “Wait, dude, Alexa. These are all photos of you,” Jonah said slowly, his brown eyes widening.

            “Yes, Jonah,” Alexa said patiently. She looked back at Samantha. “I dunno, I have no clue who took them. And who managed to break into my house, get into my room, and leave them there.”

            Jonah was holding the pile an inch away from his face, “Here you are at soccer practice,” he looked at the next photo. “Here you are at soccer again, oo nice stretching. Here you are on the bus…eating lunch… in the hallway… in the courtyard. Here you are,” Jonah squinted his eyes, gasped and then looked up, “Alexa, this was taken outside your house. This is your room.” He looked at the next photo. “Here you are… taking off your shirt!”

            “Give me those!” Alexa grabbed the photos and took out four or five. “These ones are a little bit R-rated. Here,” she said handing the rest back to Jonah. “These are PG.”

            Jonah continued looking through the stack, grumbling, “Here you are here… Here you are there…”

            “What I can’t figure out,” Samantha said, holding her cappuccino with both hands as if about to take a sip, “is why anybody would stalk you.” Alexa looked down at her chai. “I mean-- not that you’re not pretty or anything, Alexa. It’s just… you’re not beautiful.” Samantha tossed her bounty of vibrant red curls, as if to prove it. “Like, how many boyfriends have you had? Me, I’ve had tons but I’ve never been stalked. Maybe there’s some other reason-”

            “Dude, here you are Claire’s birthday party,” Jonah yelled, holding out a photo and pointing at it energetically. “This guy’s been stalking you for months!”

            Samantha shot Jonah a quick glare “… like your father killed someone and now they’re trying to get back at him by terrorizing you.”

            “The someone he killed, who’s now dead is out to get me? So I have a ghost as my stalker?” Alexa said, subconsciously pulling at a thread of dull blonde hair.

            “No,” Samantha said rolling her eyes. “I’m just saying there has to be a reason, a motive.”

            Alexa took out a folded white sheet of paper from her jeans pocket and tossed it on the table.

            Samantha unfolded it and deciphered the chicken scratch, “Please don’t go to the police and please don’t let this freak you out. I love you, Alexa, and think you’re beautiful. Okay this just reached a new level of creepiness.”

            “Dude, look, it’s me!” Jonah looked like he just won the lottery. “At Halloween. I look good. Dude, Alexa can you put these up on Facebook?”

            Alexa choked on her chai tea and started coughing furiously.

            “Or, I mean,” Jonah scratched his head, “not.”

            “So what’s this about a stalker?” Eric said, pulling up a chair. Eric was the school heartthrob. Apart from his good looks, his attractiveness came from the way his dark eyes looked at you and made you feel like maybe he was secretly in love with you. He kissed Samantha on the cheek and took Alexa’s pile of R-rated photos. Alexa went bright red as her coughing escalated and she tried to motion, “No!” Eric raised his eyebrows, “These are… interesting.” Samantha gasped and snatched the photos from him. Eric took a few from Jonah’s collection.

            “I mean, whoever took these is an artist. The framing, the composition, the focus, they’re all stunning.” He pointed to one taken outside of Alexa’s bedroom as she closes her curtain. “Look at how the street lamp light hits her face and catches her eye. It’s gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.” Samantha and Alexa both blushed, but for different reasons.

            “You should go to the police,” Samantha said, flipping her hair. “Artist or not, he’s been following you around for who knows how long-- at least three months. He knows where you go to lunch, where you practice, where you live. He’s been in your room! And this,” she said, taking the photo from Eric, “I wouldn’t call this ‘beautiful,’ I’d call it some repulsive fixation of an obsessive maniac.” Samantha handed the photo to Alexa, who looked down at it, blinking.

            “Sammy, now look: You freaked her out,” Eric said softly, looking at Alexa with his dark eyes. “Listen, whoever this guy is, he must not want to, like, harm you or anything,” he said touching Alexa’s shoulder. “Why would he give you the photos? I mean, usually with psycho killers you don’t know they’re out to get you till you’re dead. So I wouldn’t worry, sounds more like a secret admirer to me. I wouldn’t bother with the cops.”

            “Well,” Samantha said standing up. “Don’t blame me when they find her dead swollen body covered in flies and leeches on the bank of Lake Anza. We should go catch that movie.”

            “Right,” Eric said looking at his watch and standing up. “Starts in ten minutes.”

            “Wait dude,” Jonah said, waking up. “What theatre are you going to?”

            “Oaks,” Samantha sighed, putting on her coat.

            “Dude lemme get a ride home.”

            “Alright,” Eric said, jingling his keys. “Listen, Alexa, we hate to leave you like this…”

            “No I’ll be alright,” Alexa said smiling at Eric. “Whoever this guy is, I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

            “Okay, well have fun with lover-boy Alexa,” Samantha said grabbing her umbrella. “If you get brutally killed, at least it’ll count as some form of attention from the opposite sex.” With that, she left with the two boys hurrying after her, leaving Alexa sitting alone with the table full of half empty drinks and a mess of photos.

*****

            “I can’t believe you dragged me here when there’s a stalker on the loose,” Alexa yelled over the music as she weaved her way through the crowded house.

            “Dude, relax, we’re here to celebrate Jean…Gina…” Jonah stopped walking to think and Alexa nearly ran into him.

            “Joanne?”

            “Right,” Jonah said, walking again. “We’re here to celebrate Joanne’s birthday.”

            “My friends!” A rosy-cheeked Samantha stumbled into their path, holding a tall glass of punch. “Take this,” she said handing Alexa the glass. “I can’t have any more, I’m done. Take it. Have you guys seen Eric? I’ve gotta go find Eric.” And with that, she stumbled away purposefully. Alexa took a sip of punch and winced.

            Beep beep, beep beep.

            Alexa took out her cell phone. 1 new message. From a blocked ID. Alexa’s heart skipped a beat. Jonah looked over her shoulder and read slowly, “Meet me at the Rose Garden at 12. Signed You know who.” Jonah’s jaw dropped and he gasped, “Dude, Voldemort’s your stalker.”

            Alexa smacked Jonah, “Shut up, this is serious.” She took a deep breath and noticed she had goose bumps. “Should I go?”

            “I mean, if you want to die.”

*****

            “I’m going.” Alexa was on her third glass of punch and was sinking lower and lower on the couch. The butterflies in her stomach were gone, her goose bumps disappeared and she was restless.

            “Dude, go. Find your lover-boy, man,” Jonah half-yelled, toasting her with his own glass.

            “I know, this guy might be my soul mate,” she said clinking glasses with Jonah and then taking a gulp. “If I don’t go I’ll regret it the rest of my life, right?” Alexa inhaled deeply. “Alright I’m leaving.”

            She stood up, wavered slightly, and left.

*****

            When Alexa pulled up to the Rose Garden it was 12:06. She parked half on the side walk, half on the street and turned off the engine. She fixed her hair in her rear view mirror and applied some lip gloss.

            “Gotta look good for my soul mate,” she muttered to herself and bopped her lips. She grabbed a switchblade from her glove box. “Gotta be ready to fight the psycho killer.”

            She got out of the car. Luckily, the storm had passed and turned into a misting. Almost just like a really heavy fog. The mist caught the street lamp light, creating stretching rays of golden dust.

            “Hello?” Alexa said, pushing open the wet, heavy gate. She walked slowly into the middle of garden where she stood exposed. She turned around slowly in a full circle. Alexa was extremely conscious of her own breathing. The roses were all golden from the street lamp, their tiny dew drops sparkling. Her entire body pulsed and she could hear the blood in her ears. “Hello? Stalker?”

            She continued walking on the wet brick. Her foot steps were horribly loud, the sound of her moving clothing was too. She had the overwhelming sense that she was being watched.

            Alexa reached a trellis and walked through an opening. The street lamp light shone through the gaps in the vines and woodwork, creating intricate shadows on the brick path. She could hear water running from a nearby creek. And heavy, struggled breathing.

            The pulsing in Alexa’s ears became louder, faster. Alexa walked from the dark of the trellis into the light, where she found herself at the top of a set of stairs. Alexa looked down. Her heart jolted and she felt dizzy. Several feet below, Alexa saw the source of the heavy, gasping breathing. Samantha was leaning against a stone wall, her chest heaving up and down, her arms embracing her legs. At her feet was a body. Eric’s body.

            Alexa found herself drifting down the staircase. “What happened.”

            Samantha’s eyes looked a dull green in the yellow light. They were fixed forward, glazed, vacant. Mascara tears flowed steadily down her cheeks. Golden dew collected on her frizzy hair.

            Alexa’s eyes floated down to Eric, who lay sprawled, face down. A pool of blood  sat untouched at his head, except for the tiny disturbances of the mist.

            Alexa’s head was throbbing quickly. Her lungs felt frozen, the air too thick, she couldn’t breathe. She lowered herself slowly down onto a stair and whispered, “What happened?”

            Samantha’s face remained still.

            Alexa swallowed and said loudly, “What happened, Samantha?” Her voice echoed slightly.

            Samantha’s lips tightened and frowned, her eyebrows furrowed, and she blinked three times. “I,” Samantha’s voice cracked. She took a deep breath, “I loved him, I did,” she sobbed, “I really did.” A golden tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away. “But, he. The way he looked at you,” Samantha looked at Alexa and sobbed, “You, you’re a good person. You have a heart. You have good heart. And he liked that, he must have. Me, I’m just a girl. I’m pretty but I’m… I’m not beautiful. Not like you.” Samantha was sobbing, her entire body shaking.

            “Samantha, what happened? What did you do?”

            “I don’t know, I don’t know,” Samantha’s rubbing her temples, “I was mad, I was hurt,” Samantha looked at Alexa, “jealous… Jonah, he said when he told Eric you were meeting your whatever here, that Eric ran out of the party. And so I came here. And when I found him, he was pacing around the garden, looking for you,” Samantha blinked and looked at the sky. She shook her head.

            “Go on,” Alexa said in a daze.

             “And he didn’t even see me. I yelled at him. Screamed. And I was drunk. I screamed bloody murder, trying to keep up with him as he searched and when he looked back at me, I was just… filth or something. I said, ‘Eric, you’re him, aren’t you? You love her, don’t you?’ and he looked back at me and said, ‘Samantha, you’re drunk. You’re drunk and I can’t deal with you right now. For once stop thinking about yourself. Alexa could be in danger...’ He couldn’t deal with me. That’s all I am, some girl to be dealt with. He said, ‘Alexa, she could be here alone with her stalker.’

            “And that’s when I lost it. I yelled, ‘You’re the stalker Eric!’ I caught up with him and grabbed onto him. We were up there, he was in the light, I was in the shadows. I held him close, crying, ‘You’re him!’ I shook him. And Alexa,” Samantha choked in her crying, “Alexa, the way he looked down at me. His eyes, they were so, so cold. I tried to get closer, I clung onto him and I said, ‘You love her, don’t you?!’

            “And he didn’t say anything! Just stood there, his arms hanging at his sides. And this made me so… angry! I hit him, shook him, ‘You love her, don’t you?!’ His face was only inches away, and I waited for his answer.”

            Samantha took a deep, gasping breath. “Nothing. Just hurt, hurt and god I hated him just then! So I pushed him away. Away from me, all that hurt in my arms, my body I pushed into him,” Samantha laughed back her tears, her eyes big and watery, “And he fell. Down these stairs. Hit the back of his head on the corner of one of these stone walls.” Samantha tossed her arms in the air. “And now I’m here, drunk as hell, more alone than ever.”

            Alexa stared forward, her watery eyes amber in the golden light. She shook her head and inhaled. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She buried her face in her hands. “I just,” she wiped a tear from her cheek, “I was sick of being unnoticed. I thought maybe you’d think better of me or maybe Eric would notice me but,” Alexa looked at Eric’s still body, his dark hair shining with blood, “but, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

            Samantha looked slowly from the ground to Alexa.

            “Fuck, I’m pathetic,” Alexa sobbed. “A few pictures from old soccer games, a few I set up with a tripod and a timer, a few my six year old brother took for me. I sent myself the text message. Thought, hey, if no one in my life shows up to save me from a psycho killer, if no one cares, if no one notices me, then,” Alexa took out the switch blade and opened it, “maybe they’ll notice me when I’m gone. Brutally murdered.” Alexa wiped her face. “But someone did notice me. Eric. Maybe he loved me. Maybe we were soul mates.” Alexa looked at Samantha and sobbed spitefully. “But now he’s gone. Because you were too busy thinking about yourself. You could only see my one chance to be loved as your loss.” Alexa shook her head. “But now I have hope. If he cared, maybe there will be others. And next time,” Alexa looked at the golden switchblade, “you won’t be around to take him away from me.”