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Deirdre Faith

Published on: 29 Nov 2008 by pensivevide

The Stalked

Not wasting the time of day on my now drunk best friend, I stomped out of the bar in rage. It was dark, cold, and dreary outside of the heated building. Not a soul was roaming around on the streets and the irony of my story was already beginning to take place. Shivering, I remembered that I had left my sweater on the bar stool.

My friends had made me the designated driver, but they had lost the keys which lead to me leaving. I lived walking distance from the bar so I could make it home, but all my friends lived more than twenty minutes away.

With each click of my high healed boots hitting the pavement, I became more and more irritated at myself for even letting my friends talk me into to going let alone driving.

As I walked down the street, I noticed a man walking behind me. The cloaked figure moved swiftly, yet quietly about twenty feet away. Trying to be unnoticed, I quickened my pace. The man continued to follow, and all the while I questioning myself why I even left the safety of the bar.

Eyeing my apartment, I made a mad dash for the locked door. Fiddling with the keys I unlocked the door, ran in, slammed it back shut, and then locked it once again.

“How silly was I to think that the man was coming after me!” I thought aloud. After lighting some candles and incense, I plopped myself onto my recliner and rested my eyes. My brain was at ease and I slowly began to mellow out, until I heard a faint knock on my door.

Automatically assuming it was my “stalker”, my heart began beating faster and harder as I tip-toed to the door. I had turned the knob when I started to have second thoughts on answering the strangers knock. The door found its own way to open from there and, ironically, my “stalker’s” face popped up.

“Hello! My name is Blaire. You left your sweater at the bar, and I guess I thought, maybe, I should, uh, return it to you,” The man said nervously.

Of course, I was dumbfounded with a handsome blue-eyed man right in front of me. Blaire shoved the black sweater into my hand and grinned. Seeing the sweet smile on his face trying so hard to impress me, I thought I should invite him in.

“Uh, thank you. Would you like to come in? I am sure it’s pretty cold out there,” I replied in a dull fashion.

“Sure, but I didn’t bring any wine. I figured since we just came from a bar, we have had enough to drink,” He stated giving a chuckle.

All the fear in me was now gone. I had nothing to worry about. Blaire just came to return my sweater.

Blaire moseyed on towards the couch, sat down, and patted the seat next to him. Gladly, I took the seat and crossed my legs lady-like.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, I shifted my position on the couch. The candles were still flickering and the incense was still burning.

“I like your smile,” Blaire said randomly.

I could feel my face turn a bright red as I messed with my hair.

“I know I like my smile too!” I said beaming.

“The way your eyes sparkle is just stunning…” Blair said, going on and on about me and how pretty he thought I was.

Laughing inside at his horrible pick-up lines, I decided to give him a break and let him keep going. Blair continued on with a straight yet insane smile.

“…and I am looking at you right now and thinking ‘Wow, this is going to be really hard to kill you…”

My heart stopped as I saw what his left hand witheld, a small blood stained dagger. Not being able to comprehend what I was seeing and hearing, I swallowed hard and held my breath.

“…if you stand still and stay silent, my love, I promise that it won’t hurt,” said Blair proudly, cupping my chin with his hand.

Blair grinned madly and raised the dagger while I sat there helplessly. With one simple stroke of the sharp blade, my vision turned blurry and my hearing went as well. All the way until the end I heard only Blair’s insane and sickening laughter. Even though Blair was a crazy murderer, he was right about one thing; I didn’t feel any pain at all, just fear.



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