Heartscape Diaries

¡ OH I AM OBSESSED WITH YOU !

**Warning: This book contains sensitive themes and graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.**

I was an ordinary college girl with an ordinary life, until he showed up. A new transfer student, handsome and mysterious, captured everyone's attention. His name was Tolyo. He was tall, with dark hair and striking hazel brown  eyes. He kept to himself, never bothering with the admirers that flocked around him. I, too, developed a crush on him, but I was different. I wanted to know everything about him.

"Oh ,I am obsessed with you," I chanted it like a mantra .

I began to observe him closely. He was like a perfect specimen: smart, athletic, and seemingly unattainable. I tried talking to him, but every time, my legs shook and I ran away, embarrassed. Despite my failed attempts, my obsession only grew. I started collecting things he left behind: a pen, a used basketball jersey, a water bottle. Each item was a treasure.

My room became a shrine. Photos of him walking, smiling, eating, playing—all adorned my walls. I was happiest in my sanctuary of stolen moments. The final piece of my collection was finding his house. I followed him home one day, learning where he lived.

One morning, I told my parents I was going to college, but I went to his house instead. It was a small house, seemingly empty. His parents were out. I tried the door—locked. I climbed through a window into the hall. The smell hit me immediately: it was my perfume. The exact one I wore every day.

I stood in the dimly lit hallway, my heart pounding. The walls were covered in pictures of me. My name was scrawled everywhere, like a mantra. I took a shaky step forward, my mind racing. This was beyond obsession. It was madness.

In the center of the room, a large table was cluttered with my personal items. My missing hairbrush, my childhood toys, even my school notebooks. Each item was meticulously labeled with dates and descriptions. I felt sick.

On the far wall, a giant collage of my life stretched from floor to ceiling. Baby photos, school pictures, candid shots I didn't even know existed. I saw myself growing up, from a toddler to now, under his twisted gaze. My legs felt weak.

As I moved further into the room, I saw jars lined up on shelves, each containing something personal—my chewed pens, strands of my hair, nail clippings. My heart raced as I read the labels, each one detailing where and when they were collected.

Then, my eyes fell on several boxes, each meticulously labeled with dates. With trembling hands, I opened one. Inside were my used pads and tampons, bloodied and preserved. My stomach churned. Another box contained my baby teeth, each one carefully wrapped. The sheer madness of it all left me paralyzed with fear and disgust.

I stumbled upon a journal, its pages filled with meticulous entries about my daily life. He had been watching me for years. Each entry was a detailed account of my activities, my conversations, my habits. The first entry was dated April 15, 2004—my birth date. The last entry was today, June 16, 2024. My skin crawled as I realized how deeply he had infiltrated my life.

Suddenly, I noticed a small, folded piece of paper on the table. It was from my childhood diary. "If I’m gonna date, I’ll date a guy who is tall, handsome, with dark hair and hazel brown eyes," it read. My own words mocked me. A rotten smell wafted through the room, growing stronger as I neared the sofa.

With trembling hands, I lifted the edge of the sofa. Underneath, I found the decomposing body of the real Tolyo. His lifeless eyes stared back at me, a silent scream frozen on his face. My stomach churned, and I staggered backward, bile rising in my throat.

The front door creaked open. I turned, paralyzed with fear. The imposter stepped inside, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "I knew you’d come," he said, his voice eerily calm. "Now we can be together, forever."

I backed away, my mind racing for an escape. But the room was a prison, filled with the artifacts of my life. The imposter advanced, pulling out a syringe. "You shouldn’t have come here," he whispered, eyes gleaming with madness. "But now that you’re here, we can start the final chapter."

My eyes darted around the room, desperate for a way out. That's when I noticed them—jars, lined up on a shelf. Inside, I saw faces I recognized. Faces of friends who had gone missing, presumed dead in a car crash years ago. He had killed everyone who had been too close to me.

The horror of the realization hit me like a tidal wave. I was trapped, surrounded by the remnants of my life and the lives of those I loved. Tears streamed down my face as I realized the depth of his obsession, the extent of his madness.

As he stepped closer, syringe in hand, I knew there was no escape. I was his prisoner, forever trapped in his twisted love story . he whispered "oh , I am obsessed with you "