Obsession || h.s [completed]

40 | butcher

*five weeks later*

I have received the same letter in the mail every single day for the past month. The envelope is always crisp white with the exception of a pinkish-red smear on the back.

The first time I received it, I was terrified it might be blood. But my patrol officer, Darren, said it wasn't, though he too didn't know exactly what it could be.

I didn't open them for the first four days. But after five perfectly crisp envelopes and five unidentifiable red smears, I couldn't take it anymore.

I opened them in order, but each one was identical to the first with the exception of being hand written, and each one looking as if it were written by a different person. A month of this, and no two had the same handwriting.

But they all conveyed the same disturbing love note.

My Dearest Mason,

I am sorry I cannot stay away from you anymore. When I do, I get sad and angry and that is when I like to hurt people. You don't know that it is me writing these letters and sending these gifts for sure, but I know deep down that you must hope it is me. I love you, Mason. And I know you love me, too. But that is the tricky part, I guess. Harry would be so furious if you left him for me. I would have to hurt him but I worry that would make you sad because you told him you love him, too.

That day I first heard you say those words I knew you would soon be saying them to me. Even though you loved him I knew I could make you happier than he ever could because he does not love you the way I do. He does not admire you as you sleep the way I do. He does not spend every waking minute thinking of all the things he could do with you like I do. He does not plan out his day to make sure he passes by you as you walk to work like I do. He will never love you like I do but soon we will be together. We will go far, far away where no one can get between us anymore. Where they won't be able to find us.

I promise you this, my love. And I can't wait to show you all I have planned for you. All I have planned for us.

All the love,
HES

I didn't hesitate to let anyone know this time. Harry read them. My dad read them. Multiple police officers and detectives read them.

No one could tell me why someone would send the same letter every day for a month. Other than the simple explanation; whoever is sending them is absolutely insane.

But that wasn't a good enough answer for me. I wanted to know, why me? What is the red stain? Why do the sentences of this letter seem so carefully constructed, so cautiously worded?

The envelopes never had a return address but Darren said he would look into what post office it came through and from there he might be able to get a lineup of a few suspects.

But that was three weeks ago and all they discovered was it apparently came through the old post office that was shut down nearly fifteen years ago.

I'm not allowed to walk by myself to work anymore, either. I get a ride from my patrol officer or sometimes from my dad or Harry.

We had bars installed on all the windows on the first floor. All the doors stay locked, day and night.

And last week my dad had the oak tree outside my window cut down. Light filters more brightly through the window now and it makes my room feel a bit more cheerful, despite everything.

Harry would stay with me most nights. Of course, now he had to use the front door, so he would wake up and leave before sunrise. But, this morning he left a little note on his pillow.