The Sociopath Who Ate My Cereal

"You're about to become the Bonnie to my Clyde."

Chapter 8

I would like to say I was good at handling my feelings. That I was cool as a cucumber. I could even call myself the definition of calm. I wasn't even breaking a sweat. Nothing to worry about. Everything was going to totally be okay.

Like totally fine.

Absolutely nothing was wrong.

Nothing.

Not a thing.

No wrongness here.

Nope.

No.

No way.

No way was I in denial.

No.

No.

Yea.

No way I wasn't lying to myself.

Truth is I was freaking the fuck out.

I was more stressed out than Taylor Swift when Kim released the video of her talking to Kanye.

That stressed out.

Someone had been following me for weeks now. Someone had been taking photos of me. Someone was stalking me.

It wasn't cool. Like the Biebs said "no pictures guys." That's how I felt. Though I definitely wasn't important enough to say that aloud. But it seemed extremely self explanatory.

I could feel my forehead breakout into a sweat as I just stared at the photos.

I knew I was moving, I did. But my body was acting on its own, mostly because it was in straight up self preservation mode.

I picked up my house phone numbly and started to dial.

It rang three times before a deep masculine voice came on the line.

"Yes?"

I swallowed loudly and said "Come over. I need you."

The voice on the other line said nothing for a minute. Then in a very caution tone he said "I'll be right there."

.

.

"What the fuck is this Candice? You need to call the cops. Like now. Someone's been following you. Like Robert John Bardo kind of stalking." Anthony said waving his arms around in a frantic manner.

"Who?" I asked. Kind of taken aback how I had no idea who he was talking about.

"Guy who killed that celebrity he was stalking?" When I still looked confused he rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. We need to call the police, or at the very least tell your mom."

"I can't." I said automatically.

"Why the fuck not?"

"She can't go through this again."

"Again?"

I didn't answer him. I just looked down at my feet not ready to talk about it. "The point is Anthony I'm not telling my mom. I can handle this."