I woke up to the harsh blare of my alarm clock, the sound practically begging me to turn it off and drag myself out of bed. "Ugh, fuck," I muttered as I stretched, feeling the familiar crackle of my bones as I pushed myself up.
Still groggy and hungry, I wandered to the kitchen, thinking about what I could grab from the fridge. But just as I was about to open it, something caught my eye—a small object peeking out from under the door. I knelt down to get a closer look and realized it was a letter. My heart raced. How could I be receiving mail when I've only lived here for a week?
I picked up the envelope and tore it open, expecting something mundane. Instead, I stood there, frozen, as a stack of photos fell out. They were pictures of me—photos taken every day since I moved in. There were shots of me eating, hanging out with Sara, visiting the salon, and even dining at a restaurant with Xavier. "What the fuck..." I whispered, flipping through the images. It was then that I realized the photos were all taken from the same angles, ones that pointed directly to the car I had noticed trailing me. My suspicion was correct—someone had been following me, and now they knew where I lived.
Panicked, I bolted to my bedroom to grab my phone. There was an unread message from an unknown number. My stomach dropped as I read it: "Morning Settie." No. Without wasting another second, I dialed Sara, the only person I trusted in this unfamiliar place.
"Sara, can I talk to you? Are you free?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Hey, of course. It's raining, but I'll come over. Send me your location," she replied.
Not long after, I heard a knock on my door. I quickly checked the peephole—it was Sara.
"Hey," I greeted her with a forced smile as I let her in.
"What's going on, M?" she asked, kicking off her shoes.
I didn't hold back. I told her everything and handed her the envelope with the photos. "What the hell?" she exclaimed as she rifled through them. "I found them under my door this morning," I explained, my voice trembling. The realization that this unknown stalker knew my exact location was terrifying, and it didn't help that Sara and I were both vulnerable women in a strange city.
"There's a note here," Sara said, pulling out a small index card from the envelope. "What does it say?" I asked, dread creeping into my voice. She rotated the card and read aloud, "You're mine."
My fears were confirmed—I had a stalker, and the car was the key. Sara looked at me with concern etched on her face. "What do I do?" I asked, sinking onto the sofa, suddenly hyper-aware of my surroundings. What if the stalker was watching me right now?
"How about we get you a security system? It'll help you feel safer," Sara suggested, sitting beside me and trying to calm me down. "I'll stay with you for now. I'm free today—I just resigned from my job, so I've got time," she said with a reassuring smile.
"You resigned? From being a flight attendant?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah, but I didn't just study tourism. My first major was actually medicine. I've just been hired for a position with the same company that owns my airline, but it's a military-slash-government medical job," she explained. It made sense—Sara had always been good at taking care of people, but I never imagined she'd end up in such a field.
"Speaking of majors, what did you study?" she asked, curling up on the sofa.
"I majored in criminology," I replied.
"Why? If you don't mind me asking," she said, scratching her neck awkwardly.
"Well... I'll tell you, but only you," I said, leaning in closer. "When I was about nine, my father killed my mother. He beat her up after finding out she was talking to another man." Sara's excited expression turned cold as she listened, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "My sister and I were separated after being placed in an orphanage. She got adopted, but I didn't. When I turned 18, they kicked me out, and I've been on my own ever since."
Sara immediately pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry you went through that," she said, wiping away the tears that had started to fall from my eyes. "But now, you have me. I'm here for you, okay?" Her sincerity made me smile despite the circumstances. "Thank you, Sara," I whispered.
We spent hours together, trying to lighten the mood until she had to leave to meet her boyfriend. But the fear of having a stalker clung to me like a shadow, no matter how much I tried to distract myself. I scrolled through social media, read a book, cooked, and watched movies, but nothing worked. In fact, the last movie I watched, "Unforgettable," only made things worse.
"Maybe sleeping will help," I muttered to myself as I collapsed onto my bed, but deep down, I knew I was wrong. My mind raced with questions. Why was this happening to me? First, I got cheated on, then almost evicted, and now I have a stalker? "Why me?" I sobbed, the overwhelming sense of helplessness washing over me.
Just as I was about to drift off, the doorbell rang. My heart jumped into my throat. I wasn't expecting anyone—could it be Sara? No, she would've texted. I cautiously approached the door and peeked through the peephole, but there was no one there.
"What the hell?" I muttered, opening the door and looking around. No sign of anyone. Just as I was about to close the door, I noticed a small box on the ground. "Did I order something?" I asked myself, picking it up and bringing it inside. I couldn't remember ordering anything, but I opened the box anyway, only to find a lamp inside. "A lamp?" I whispered. It was elegant, but I knew I hadn't ordered it. The realization that someone knew where I lived sent chills down my spine.
I needed to take action. Living in constant fear wasn't an option. "I'll get a security system," I decided, determined to protect myself. But when I looked up the cost, my jaw dropped. "Four hundred euros?" I gasped. But there was no choice—my safety had to come first. I booked a consultation with the same company that owned my building for the day after tomorrow. They also had a security branch, and at this point, I was desperate.
The fear of the unknown gnawed at me. I didn't know what this stalker wanted or what they were capable of, but I was scared shitless. As a girl with no self-defense skills, I felt utterly hopeless. But I had to do something before it was too late.
