A Collection of Short Stories

1. The White Rose

He watched her as she left the bookstore. She was the one. Her strawberry blonde hair ran down from her back and ended at her waist, and her ocean colored eyes mesmerized him completely. She was perfect. He continued to watch her as she walked down the streets of Manhattan. It was inhabited by nearly two million people, so he had plenty of room to walk around and blend in when he didn't want to be seen. He followed her into the coffee shop, but didn't go in. He waited outside for five minutes, giving her just enough time to order. Then, he walked in. It wasn't too crowded. Just a few people here and there. He ordered a plain black coffee. Plain and simple. Just how he liked it. He sat towards the back, so she wouldn't notice him. Not yet. He tried to act normal, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He loved her. And soon, they would be together.

The woman had a book open, one he assumed she bought at the bookstore. The White Rose. Not bad. It was a bestseller, too. He liked her style. She got the feeling someone was watching her, and she looked up and looked around. When she saw no one watching her, she continued to read. Time for him to go. He got up, left the coffee shop, and went across the street. He hid behind the brick wall of another building. He waited for a good twenty minutes before starting to follow her. He didn't know where she was headed, but he had to know. He just saw her. He couldn't lose her. It was too soon.

She stopped in front of a building, which had small apartments above it. This must be where she lived. He wanted to go in, but he didn't want her to see him. He was willing to take the risk. If he ran into her, he could say he was looking for a friend's apartment.

He crossed the street, and went up to the door. He was glad to know he didn't need a key. He opened the door, and went in. There were stairs in the main room that led to all the apartments. The walls were painted white, and there were monochrome picture frames doting the walls. It made it look more "modern." Plain and simple. Just how he liked it. The hallway itself was about ten feet long with three apartments on each side. All the apartments had numbers on them. He was going to head down the hallway, when a door in front of him opened.

He hid behind a wall, but peered around the corner. There she was. Her long, blonde hair and shiny blue eyes. He turned back to the staircase, when he heard knocking. A door opened and a man stepped out of the room. He was five foot ten and was in good shape. Not bad for a guy like him. They started talking. He couldn't hear everything they were saying, but he was able to make out most of it. It almost sounded like they were flirting.

"Hey Nick. I think I got some of your mail by accident."

"No problem. I'll have to thank the mailman for that later."

"You are such a jerk."

"Thanks."

"So what do you say about us going out to dinner tonight?"

"Look, I really appreciate it, but—"

"Come on, Amy. You have to eat something. And besides, it's not a date. Just two friends sharing a meal together."

Her name was Amy. He liked it. It suited her.

"Okay. Let me just get my jacket and I'll meet you outside."

"Okay. No rush."

He couldn't believe it. Amy was going out with him. He didn't deserve her. He wasn't worthy of her. Not worth her time. He then left the building and went across the street. That's where he would be waiting.

Ten minutes later, Amy and Nick left the apartment. He made sure to stay behind at a fair distance so he could watch them, but not too close so they would see him. They went to Rosemary's, a restaurant not too far from the coffee shop and a popular restaurant in Manhattan. He watched them through the windows. It looked like Nick was doing all the talking. Did he really not know how to impress a girl like Amy? After about an hour, they left the restaurant. They went back to her apartment, and he followed close behind. Once again, he gave them time to enter first and then went upstairs very quietly so he could hear what they were saying.

"Thanks for that, Nick. I needed it."

"Anytime, Amy."

He shot her a wink and then closed the door. He heard both doors close and he left. He went back to his car and couldn't stop thinking about Amy. He needed a course of action. A plan. She was special, and not like most women he'd come across. A smile crossed his face. He knew exactly what he was going to do. I'm coming for you, Amy. Soon, you will be mine.

Amy sat in her apartment and tried to write her book. Normally, she would write things down on paper or formulate ideas in her mind, but she had no inspiration. Nothing to guide her. As a kid, Amy always loved to write, especially during her teenage years. She would sit on her bed and write for eight hours straight. It was her passion. She loved to read, too. But her childhood wasn't all that perfect. She had lost her parents at the age of five, and went from foster home to foster home. Some she liked, and others, she didn't. When she turned eighteen, she left, and never looked back. She started her new life. That was six years ago.

She refocused, paying attention to her paper again. It wasn't going to work. She decided to take a break and worry about it tomorrow. She looked through her mail, and realized she had something for Nick. She liked him as a friend, but he wasn't her type. Plus, she was at school and worked a part time job. How could she have time for him?

She was going to try one last time. She had never handed in anything late, and now was not a good time to start. She was going to finish her paper.

Three hours later, she was done. It was ten thirty, and she was tired. She was going to her bedroom, but she heard a very faint noise, and then it was gone. Amy could've sworn she heard something. Maybe she was just tired. It was pretty late, and she had been working for three hours. She just brushed it off and decided to go to bed. She had an early class tomorrow, and didn't want to be late.

She opened the door to head out, but then she noticed something on the floor. It was a white rose. Her favorite flower. She had never seen a white rose before. A secret admirer. Who could it be? She bent over and picked it up. Along with the rose was a note in a black envelope sealed with a red heart. Curious, Amy opened the note. Her excitement turned to fear when she opened it. In red ink, it read, "I'll be watching..."

She looked at the rose closer and saw that there was blood on one of its petals. Amy was terrified. She stepped out of her apartment to see who was there. She didn't see anyone. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe someone left these here by mistake. Maybe she was being paranoid. She tried her best to brush it off, but couldn't.

She couldn't sleep, either. She hoped that none of it was real or that maybe she was overthinking things. But she couldn't ignore what she saw. She planned to tell Nick about it, but figured he would just tell her the same thing. That maybe it was a prank or that she was being paranoid. She was going to have to wait until the morning to tell him about it. She was going to have to sleep through the night.

The next day, Amy woke up. She immediately remembered the rose and the note. She was going to tell Nick about it and they would go to the police together. That was, until she found out he was missing. Amy went over to his apartment and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She figured he didn't hear her. She knocked again, and still no answer. "Nick? Are you there?" No answer. Amy began to panic. That was when she spotted the white rose and a new note. She opened the note, and it read, "Amy, have you noticed me yet?"