The One That Was Once MINE

Chapter 8

Stalking is not as bad as people frame it to be.
Nevertheless,
It is considered a crime in several countries.
But, I live to disagree.
In some situations, stalking is a must.
Or how else would you know the real intentions of a stranger?

Stalking is basically the term commonly used to refer to a pattern of behaviors directed towards an individual by another that results in the person, to whom the behavior is directed, fearing for themselves and/or others.
Note that, if you do your stalking real good, they won't fear for themselves, and then it wouldn't be considered a crime.
The behaviors can involve overtly criminal behavior or seemingly non-criminal, innocent behavior or both.
And I'd like to add that mostly women are victims in this criminal act, so why not, as a difference, make it a man's issue.
I'm not making this up, studies show that usually women stalk women, however men usually if not always stalk women.
So let's switch this up shall we?

Plus, not to justify this, but stalkers are actually types.
You have the,
Rejected Stalker, love-obsessed stalker, predator stalker, grudge stalker, and last but not the least erotomaniac stalker.
And let me tell you, you better not have an erotomaniac stalker on your back.

Moreover, have you never stalked someone online?
Stop lying to me and yourself.
We all have searches on facebook of people, that don't know we even exist.

I finish my shift at the pub, I have some stalking work to do myself.
Cancelled lunch with Natasha and Allie to make this happen, hope it doesn't go to waste.
Yesterday night I slept with a hundred thoughts on my mind, but today?
I woke up determined with the perfect plan.
Well... not so perfect... but it's a plan after all.
I walk up the same 5th street I was on yesterday, but feelings of excitement and butterflies are switched by determination and a bit of anxiety to be honest.
What if he catches me?
I stand there, the same place I waited for a cab, and look around....
There are 4 buildings each with at most 3 floors, lets say each floor has a total of 3-4 apartments, how hard could this be?
4 by 3 by 4 = 48 apartments.
Well, maybe it's harder than I thought.
I enter the first building, its a business class, which I assure you that guy could not afford, so I skip it and move on.
Am I really doing this?
Stalking a guy for revenge?
Do I really want revenge?
I enter the next building.
There sits on a wheel chair, with his reading glasses on and a book called The Art of Loving on his lap, a guy old as a fossil.
The wrinkles and folds of skin are so pronounced it was hard to tell what he must have looked like as a young man, maybe a hottie, you could never tell.
Perhaps he was once admired, courted and coiffured.
Now he just looked like a party balloon almost bereft of it's helium, sagged and deflated.
His ankles swelled with gout, and his white hair brushed neatly to the side.

I walk up to him and his faded blue eyes raise to look at me.
"Hey, I'm sorry to interrupt, but a guy this morning dropped his phone coming out of this building and I couldn't follow up, I thought I'd come back later to ask" -he stares at the phone and then my eyes- "but idiotically I dont even know his name!" I slap a hand on my forehead just to make it all the more believable.
"That man... how does he look like my dear?" He says adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Pale white skin, ruthless grown beard, and some reading glasses on, he smells like death and his yellow teeth could be seen miles away.

"He has white skin, he is fairly tall maybe 6'1 or something, hmm" I sigh wanting him to believe my stupidly made-up story.
"He has a beard and he had those medical glasses on, maybe he was in his early thirties, I really couldn't tell." I explain, my hands gesturing all around the air.
"Oh I think you mean Mr. James! he doesn't live here sweety, but his girlfriend does.
If you ask me she is a pain in the arse." he shrugs his shoulders.
Hmm so he has a girlfriend, all the better.
"She is apartment 403, but James works at the bookstore downtown, you could go to him directly if you want. I saw Fiona leaving for work just a few hours ago."
Of course I wouldn't like to see his creepy ass face.
"Thank you, I guess I'll try the apartment first." I smile politely and head up the stairs.

The building is old, it has all those french drawings in the halls.
they look interestingly bizarre, the owner has such good taste.

I walk up to apartment 403, I knock on the door, just to make sure that no one is inside.
Couple of minutes later,
No answer.
I am experienced at key-lock picking.
Back home, I would always stay up late at Allie's, and my mom would always forget to keep the door open for me, so I learned how to open the door myself.
I open the door with the steel pin I got.
The door squeaks open and I enter and close the door.
This has to be fast before anyone comes back.
What am I looking for?
Her apartment is neat as a button!
I look through drawers, closets, book shelves, for anything I could to know where this guy, James, lives.
Maybe an spare key or a picture, a phone number maybe?
But it's useless.
Suddenly I hear the door push open.
Shit shit shit, hide!
I slide under the bed and make sure the bed covers are draped.
"Hello?" A female voice calls, and I shudder,
I am gonna get caught.
Bye bye university and hello jail!
"James?" She calls still standing at the door.
Crap what did I get myself into?

Author's note:
Hey I hope you like this chapter!
I really enjoyed writing it, please vote to encourage me to keep going.