PURITY

𝘽𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚

Joey's pov.

Almost everywhere I go I'm looking over my shoulder for a van. Even something that looks remotely like a fucking van makes my heart beat faster. It's been a few days and everyday that same fucking van is outside my work. I push open the glass doors to the gas station and walk behind the counter, situating myself for the day.

Honestly I'm about to bring those pictures to the cops. Tell them I might have a stalker...

But is it really? Is someone really stalking me? Why...? Like I tell myself a million times, I'm so uninteresting. Just a guy who works at a gas station and plays drums in his free time. I'm nothing special at all. Just another man in billions.

So to have a stalker is almost impossible!

Wait...

I think I read somewhere that one in five people are stalked. Am I the one in five?! Shit Joey!

I could actually be getting stalked right now... At this very moment some random person could be watching me. I still can't understand why. But it's definitely a possibility that someone is watching me... I slowly realize that my stalker could've come in here and I would never know. I start to panic. I play with my hair in attempt to stop what could become a panic attack. I really don't care to be crying on the floor of a fucking gas station.

Maybe I should just go right now... Just go give the pictures to the police and get this over with faster. So I won't have to worry all the time and look over my shoulder. So I don't have to assume anyone is watching me.

I decide to wait until after my shift to go bring the photos in. I sit anxiously at the counter waiting for anyone to come in. The morning rush soon comes and I'm bombarded with typical Iowans getting stuff to start their mornings with. Some farmers, truckers, mechanics, teachers, and lawyers.

Finally it clears out and I'm left with silence once again. Just a few more hours until I can finally leave. It's almost like I'm excited to go to the police? I never feel this way...

The small bell dings signaling me that someone has walked in. I look up from my phone and see a larger man, probably a farmer, walk in.

Wait... Is that the same dude with the black van? I tense as he walks toward me.
He probably doesn't even like me, doesn't know me! He's definitely not stalking me. Just because he has a black van doesn't mean he's a stalker. I shake it off and ring up his items. I hope that he doesn't see how nervous I am.
I hand him a bag full of his stuff and he gives a smile and walks out to a white van. What?! How many vans does this fucker have!

Two hours pass and the guy who takes the next shift walks in. I pack up my stuff in my bag and practically run out the door to my beat up car. I have another battle with the door handle before I get in and throw my bag in the back.
I drive out of the parking lot and down the police station. I take a few deep breaths and get out of my car and look around. I look across the street and practically pass out.

The fucking white van is there.

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Written by j0eYj0rdis0n
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