By Chef Madelyn
December 11th, 2011
Do you ever get that feeling that you’re being watched? Well, I do all the time. I guess I’ve sort of always liked the edge of paranoia it gives me. That feeling has been getting worse and worse lately, though, and upon further investigation, I realized that the same white van circled around my neighborhood multiple times a day. I don’t know anyone in my neighborhood that owns a car like that, and so it’s a bit troubling. I’m worried for my son, especially being a young single mother. If anything ever happened to my baby, I’d ruthlessly hunt down and kill the person that did it. Galen’s only four years old; he has a life to live.
December 15th, 2011
Okay, so maybe I don’t like that feeling anymore. The van seems to be circling around the block at least a dozen times a day now, and it sort of slows down as it goes by my house. It’s really disconcerting. Should I call someone? Am I just being really paranoid, or is this something to be worried about? I just don’t know anymore. I don’t want anyone to think I’m just some paranoid freak.
December 21st, 2011
He parks his van outside the house every day now, for at least fifteen minutes. I know it’s a he because he got out of that van today and looked through our mail as I watched through the window. He knows my name, now. Angela Evans. What can he do with my name, anyways? It’s just a name, and after all, what’s in a name?
December 25th, 2011
Doesn’t this guy have a damn family? He’s been outside of our house most of this Christmas Day. Seriously, we’re not that interesting of people. The guy needs to leave, and I’m going to call the cops if he’s there when I wake up tomorrow. I’m not dealing with this.
December 26th, 2011
I called the police today. They said they’d dispatch someone over right away, but it’s been four hours, and the only cars I see are my own and that damn van. I’m getting pushed over the edge here. Is it a stalker or someone like that? Is he obsessed with me?
January 1st, 2012
Today he pulled up a lawn chair and started watching us from the curb. He was wearing shades, but I could still see that potbelly of his and the handlebar mustache crouched upon his face. I sulked away from the door, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my face.
January 15th, 2012
I was restless last night, and got out of bed in my nightgown and walked around our small house, my bony arms crossed. I ran my sweaty hand through my hair, pacing through the kitchen and out into the sunroom. I looked out the dark window, squinting to see the woods outside.
The man stood there, still as a plank, wide grin plastered across his face. His thick eyebrows and horn rimmed glasses stared back at me with malicious intent. I screamed, body frozen in fear. Minutes passed as we stared at each other. Finally, I broke the spell and ran away, curling up next to my son in his room.
January 31st, 2012
We went grocery shopping today, my son and I. The white van was not parked outside, so we decided to go. Less than two minutes into the drive, I slammed on the brakes, realizing that I had somehow forgotten to lock the door. I raced back into the house, grabbing my son and locking the door behind us. I checked everywhere, searching the house from top to bottom as I made sure that the stalker wasn’t inside. He wasn’t. My heart continued beating quickly, but we left again, making sure to lock the door behind me.
February 1st, 2012
I did*’t check the crawlspace. I did*’t check the crawlspace when I searched the house. I jumped out of bed at 2am this morning and ran down the flight of stairs that leads to the basement and opened up the insulated compartment that led to the musty crawlspace. I hesitated for a moment before slithering in.
I was greeted warmly by the crunching of rat skulls below my feet. I flashed the small flashlight I had brought with me and looked around. I sighed with relief as I realized no one was there. I crawled out, going straight back to my room and falling asleep.
February 12nd, 2012
I was taking a shower today when I heard the door open slightly to the bathroom. I turned off the shower quickly, grabbing a towel and searching the house. No one could be seen. I chastised myself for being so paranoid, walking back into the bathroom. I turned the shower back on and took my towel off. As I was just about to step back into the shower, I noticed a handprint high on the mirror. It was too high for my son to reach, and it was much too big to be my hand. I let out a small whimper from my lungs and trudged back into the shower, soap dripping from my hair. I tried to put the thought out of my mind, blaming it on my paranoia. It could’ve been my own handprint, just smudged to look better, right?
But I know that isn’t the truth.
February 20th, 2012
I stared into the reflecting black glass door, eyeing up my figure. I have insecurity problems, all right? I put my hands on my stomach and pulled up my shirt, staring at my slender belly. I looked down, giggling as I stuck my finger into my shallow belly button. I looked up back into the reflecting glass and my smile disappeared.
He was standing behind me. He was standing behind me. He was standing behind me and he was smiling.
I froze in terror, turning slightly towards the stalker. But when my head reached the spot where his body was, he had vanished.
February 21st, 2012
The doorbell rang today. I checked up on my son, and upon seeing the familiar bundle under the blankets, I went to go see who it was. It was a little girl selling Girl Scout Cookies. I smiled at her as I opened my front door.
She gave me her pitch, telling me all about the sorts of cookies she sold. I kindly refused her offers, though, as I was still worried about my weight. She looked at me and asked,
“Well, would your husband want some?”
“I don’t have a husband,” I responded to her kindly.
Her brow furrowed. She lifted a finger up, pointing to a certain white van down on the street.
“Then who is that getting into the van with your son?”