Sounds of a camera shuttering.
The chills that she always feel whenever she walks outside.
Faint, yet slow footsteps.
She could've known.
And yet she forced herself to believe that she was just being paranoid.
How idiotic is that?
Any person with common knowledge would know that they're being stalked. Not even giving a second thought that they were being paranoid.
Was she just paranoid?
.
Polaroids.
Polaroids, Polaroids, Polaroids.
Polaroids of her being everywhere. Every crook and cranny. Every corner in the room.
It looks like they were no space left at all.
In the corner, a pile of even more polaroids of her. It could maybe fit a whole sack.
Her heart thumped.
The door creaked open.
"You weren't suppose to see this." His voice boomed through the whole room. "You weren't.." He cut himself, sighing after. "You really should control that curiosity of yours. It can lead to dangerous situations." His faint, slow steps echoed in her ears. His painfully familiar steps. The footfalls where she always hear whenever someone was following her. "Situations like these."
The atmosphere became thick.
She can't breathe.
Her heart thumped rapidly.
She's gonna throw up.
She's gonna-
"Woah there, easy," he muttered soothingly, hugging her from behind. "I know this must be shocking. I would be shocked too." He said, sounding like he's lying. "But don't worry, I won't make it scary for you. This is love after all."
Love? Love isn't like this.
Love isn't some kind of stalking, obsession, picturing someone while they're sleeping.
Oh god.
She's gonna pass out. She's gonna pass out. She's gonna pass out.
"Oh."
Black spots invaded her vision. Her sense of hearing starts to fade away.
Sickeningly, he smiled. "Sleep well."
