Condemned: Short Stories

Memoirs Of A Stalker.

Stalking was his life, and obsession was his soul.

His targets were every-day adults you meet in a shop or a grocery store; randomness was key to avoid suspicion. He watched his targets like a hyena patiently watching a lion hunt its prey, to eat the leftovers.

People were like characters in a story. He would immerse himself in that story and watch those characters' every tiny move. Samples of their cloth, saliva, or blood were vital to him for the immersion.

He followed one simple rule, a rule not meant to be broken: "Never interact with your targets."

Sipping a cup of coffee, he was holding a news-paper, while waiting for his target: a twenty-four-year-old high class woman who had a date planned in that cafe.

She entered the cafe with a Louis Vuitton bag. Her curled eyebrows fluttered against her shiny skin, flushed pink with the bystander's gaze resting too long on her rose-red lips.

For a moment, her eyes locked with his. He fidgeted and hid his face under the newspaper.

She walked straight at him. "Hello, I am Samantha. And you must be Robert? The blind-date that my friend set up?"

He wasn't aware the date was a blind one, and neither did he know of any Robert. Had he thought with a cool mind, he would avoid this woman all together, as he was forced to interact with her. But his mind was in a quandary. Her exquisite beauty had captivated his heart.

She scratched her face and narrowed her eyes. With an awkward smile, she said, "Oh, I apologize. Maybe I got the wrong table."

She flipped her hair behind and took her leave. He couldn't give up this chance. Letting her go meant being unable to stalk her anymore, as she saw his face.

He didn't understand his emotions. It wasn't plain obsession; it was something more.

"Wait," he said, "I— " There was a brief pause as he stuttered.

Her forehead wrinkled, and she asked, "Yes?"

He gulped, "I am Robert," he said.

They looked at each other briefly, then their gaze repelled like equal polarity. She smiled and sat in the opposite seat.

Their introduction was awkward, and he was not the best at conversations, but her charms and wits kept them entertained.

She talked of her daily life, stresses, and troubles that her exes gave her, but he was already aware of everything there was to this woman. After all, he was stalking her for over two weeks.

"I enjoyed talking with you," she said. "Has anyone ever told you-you are a superb listener?"

His heart fluttered. No one had ever praised him before. His face blushed and lips curved.

She typed her number on his phone before they made their leave and asked him to call.

In the coming days, he switched his targets as he originally planned, but no matter how many more people he stalked, they didn't make him feel the way she did.

A week passed, and he couldn't forget Samantha. He stared at her number for over eight hours, taping his foot and fidgeting.

"Hello, Samantha? Hey, it's Robert. The guy—umm, you had the blind date with," he said.

His heart raced, and head spun.

"Oh hey, Robert! I was wondering when you would call. I waited the whole week for you," she said.

That phone call was the start. From there, they saw each other every day. In the mornings, he would stalk her, watching her go to work in the central bank.