The hardest part is that He made me like Him without talking to me. He made me think He was funny without uttering a word aloud to me. I had an underlying feeling He wasn't trying to put me in danger, or even wanted to hurt me. I had eventually built a trust with Him. I could talk, he would be there to listen. At the beginning of my realization I said very confused, because no matter the time of day I would and could get a response. I asked exasperated, I didn't get it, "How are you listening?!" I was driving and was flipping through the playlist on the mini computer screen on my front dash. That's how it worked. I would randomly pick a recommended playlist, that the app randomly mixed with songs I liked, and played regularly, with songs and artists I hadn't heard of before. eventually a song landed on my screen that said "headphones" .
I stared straight ahead while driving, my brows scrunched and my lips rolled, I was confused. My mouth dropped slightly, "Are you trying to be funny?" I said. I imagined Him working at a flat screen computer, with a chassis under it, his phone leaning up against the computer box with thin white headphones in His ears. I didn't know who I was supposed to think it was, but it wasn't him. It was easier when I thought it was a fat dude, working in IT. Easier to imagine where the perversion comes from. But he cleared that up very quickly, I just didn't understand who the first time round.
On my drives he was using, artists names to lead me. I would get artist names like Harrison Hood, Cam, Cameron, and the name of the old restaurant I worked at, which was beachy and slightly unique. Cameron was the guy that had private messaged me, but it was a common name. I wasn't going to believe a possible hacker, I didn't know His intensions. I was almost convinced he wrote the music I was hearing, it was the way it would be so hard to explain without someone calling me a narcissist. The way a verse in a song explained singular details that matched unique situations, and the song would be title something, slightly condescending as to narrow me down to a two-demensional being as girlnextdoor. It would be written by someone named Cameron, but I never addressed him by His name, It made it too real. too real for no one to believe me.
YOU ARE READING
Stalked psychosis: memories from the same dream
Mystery / Thrillerfollow the main character around in an 'entry style' story of horrifyingly-funny, confusingly-scary memories, Jo Anne recalls, after the fact, as she trying to cope with the fact she might have been stalked for 7 years, and when she tries to tell he...
