I walked into my office with a cup of tea at hand. I didn't sleep at all last night, I kept thinking about what my stalker had put in my mailbox.
I didn't want to check it, I was frightened of what it could be, but I had to get my hands on it before Clint does. Once I get out of work I'll get it.
I wait for the clock to turn nine AM on the dot for my first patient. Scanning through some paperwork, reviewing my patient's profile. I hear the door creak open making me glance up. A man in his late twenties enters my office.
"Good morning, Mr. Scoffield?" I question, unsure if he was my patient.
"Uh yeah, Blake is fine though." He sits on the black cushioned chair in front of my desk.
On his profile, it says he's twenty-seven years old, 6'4 in height. His eyes were sky blue, his hair color was dark brown and his body looked pretty fit, probably a very confident male from the way his posture was set.
"I'm doctor Walten. I'll be your psychologist for the rest of the month." I smile clicking on the end of my black pen.
Blake nods folding his hand on his stomach. "You have nice green eyes and ombré hair, reminds me of a little girl I knew in my childhood." He shows no expression on his face, neither in his body language.
"Tell me more about this little girl." I grab a blank sheet of paper ready to jot down some notes.
"I don't want to." He simply replies with a side smirk.
Great, a difficult patient. Just what I needed.
"Mr. Scoffield-" I'm cut off by his voice.
"Blake, just Blake." He starts to tap his index finger on his thigh.
"Blake, is there anything you would like to share with me then?" I need to get some information out of him to proceed with a treatment plan.
"Well, I like to play football. I used to be the hot jock that got all the sexy cheerleaders." He winks.
"Did this make you uneasy?" I asked, swinging my pen from side to side with my thumb and index finger.
"What did?" He leans closer to the desk.
"You were a jock, a teenager who had all the girls. It must've been difficult keeping up with each one." I watch him chuckle in amusement.
"Yeah, it was hard." He shrugs.
"So, how can I help you today?" I smile, hoping he would open up to me soon.
"I'm here, I'm here. Why am I here?" Blake asks, beginning to fidget.
"Well." I fold my hands together on the desk. "Some people come to me seeking help or advice. I'm sure we can work something out."
"Shut up! There's nothing wrong with me!" He shouts, then stood silently holding onto his head moving back and forth.
"Blake, it's alright. Nobody is judging you. We're just here to talk. We can talk about your day and how you've been feeling." My voice remains calm and steady while he breathes heavily looking up at me.
"Doc, I'm not ill I'm just...Unique. " Blake exhales slowly, relaxing.
"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" He raises an eyebrow.
"That's against policy." I smile at him.
"Well, I gueesss it's against my policy to talk about me too." He grins getting up from his chair. "I'll see you tomorrow doc." He exits my office as I look at the clock. He didn't even finish his one-hour session.
This man suffers from a long-term mental illness. Schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder. He was very good at hiding his body language and facial expressions.
The day went on when the clock hit three PM I was free to go. I rush back home, hoping Clint hadn't checked the mailbox yet.
I stood in front of my mailbox. I feel goosebumps forming on my skin. The hairs on the nape of my neck curl, while I cringe at the disturbing thoughts in my head.
Okay Yurisa, you can do this!
I open the mailbox taking out a red envelope. I frown at it and read the front, which had only my address in bold.
I rush inside my house, wasting no time in opening it. I take out a letter and completely freeze.
Should I read this? Why not just throw it out?!
I place the letter on the marble counter of the kitchen. I sigh heavily, just staring at it for a long while.
Damn it, just read it already!
I open the letter, looking at the handwriting, it was in print.
It's been a while since I've seen you, it's been years and I can still taste the scent of your hair, the scent of strawberry. You've grown up nicely. I've been watching you for so long, I'm coming for you.
My eyes widen, screaming from the top of my lungs. I crumble the paper up and take the envelope. I run out of my house, taking a cab to the police station.
"Somebody help! Please, somebody!" I yell at the police station. The cops only stare at me like I'm crazy.
"What's the situation, miss?" A cop with a beer belly asks.
"I'm being stalked! He left me this in my mailbox!" I shout taking out the envelope and letter from my purse. The cop takes the letter and reads it.
"Please, follow me." He leads me to chair and sits on the edge of his desk. "It seems like this person knows you. By any chance do you know who this is?" He takes a doughnut from a box, beginning to eat it.
"No, I don't." I start to fiddle with my fingers.
"Describe the stalker miss ..." He waits for my response.
"Walten sir. I uh... I can't he stays in the dark he only follows me on my late shifts." The officer raises an eyebrow shaking his head.
"Listen, if we got no description we can't help you but, I'll make an exception for you. I'll run some prints on these two things and I'll call you when the results come in." He munches on his vanilla doughnut.
I nod with a smile. "Thank you so much." I write down my phone number on his sticky note leaving the evidence behind. I take a cab back home and enter my home. Clint hadn't come home yet, so I called. I was feeling lonely and scared, a call won't hurt.
I press on his name to call him on my smartphone. The line kept ringing until it sent me to voicemail. I sigh marching upstairs to the bedroom. I stood in front of the door and frowned.
I never left the bedroom door closed before, neither does Clint. I back away from the door and tiptoe back downstairs to get a knife from the kitchen. I slowly go back upstairs and turn the knob.
I could feel my own hot breath on my hand, pushing the door open to see nobody in the room. I touch my chest in relief, walking in. I spot an envelope on my bed, but this time it was white.
I slowly take baby steps towards the bed, snatching the envelope. It had my address in bold again just like from the previous one.
I could feel my stomach tightening and my legs start to shake uncontrollably. I decide to sit down on the bed and rip it open to find pictures.
No, no, no... This can't be happening!
My eyes start to water. I look through ten pictures of me naked in the shower and sleeping. I begin to wheeze from the lack of air. I'm panicking, I can't breathe. Everything feels so heavy.
This man was in my house and I didn't even know it!
YOU ARE READING
The Neighbor (COMPLETED)
Horror#1 in Horror - 11/17/15 "Shhh, don't make a sound." I feel a grip around my neck feeling his hot breath on my ear. "Or I'll kill you here and now." He whispers as I felt something sharp on the side of my waist that was piercing the surface of my ski...
