Am I fucking crazy she thought as she sat alone in her house wondering? I keep hearing this guy. I keep feeling a presence watching me and I just can't quite put my finger on it but I know he's there. I must be crazy she thought for the one millionth time. This feeling had been coming over her frequently since she met him. Him was all she called him since she was terrified to even speak the name anymore. A lot of weird shit had happened since she had met him. She started hearing voices and seeing things and even smelling shit out of thin air. And yes, I do mean shit. But the worse of the symptoms or side effects of him was the paranoid uneasy feeling she felt all the time. No privacy was all she could think or make of it since it was always just a feeling. There was never any proof or evidence of any cameras found but she knew they were there especially since meeting him unlocked a lot of her spiritual powers she didn't even know she had. Before him she knew she wasn't like most and thought a little different but would never have labeled herself special in anyway. Now that there was him, she knew she was special. Something about meeting him unlocked her chakras and now where there was silence there was never any peace anymore. The spirit world constantly called to her. The angels and ancestors constantly making themselves known to her and wanting to let her know they were with her or what task she should carry out today. Most of the gifts were welcomed like having a superpower only she knew about. But it still made her uneasy to know that somewhere in the world this mad man that she had trusted stole her shadow to speak and was now controlling her life from the shadows. When she walked into her house now she felt a million eyes knowing he watched her dress and undress each day. He's such a perve she even thought about him watching her in the bathroom. Who watches someone poop other then a killer she thought but who could she tell. How can I go to the police and ask them to stop a mad man that I have no idea who he is or what his real name even is. So after a while anger turned to frustration and frustration turned into welcomed comfort and somehow welcomed comfort turned into love. Who falls in love with their stalker she thought? Only her a crazy deranged psychopath. At times she felt hurt because its hard feeling trapped in a great big world. Wondering about another's judgments and feeling them so strongly as if he was next to you whispering the heartfelt comments in her ears. Whispered disappointments when mistakes were made felt like fatherly comforts or even times when she felt so grateful to know that somewhere in the shadows, he helped her. The most recent psycho theory she had was that he had recently bought her apartments. There was no proof but little things always let her know. Like how she would call to pay and no one had any record of her living there even after 2 years. He had become something like God in her life. Always there and present but never making himself known. She knew why he hid and pitied the thoughts and judgements she felt over it. He could hide nothing from her too. It was like a telepathy they both shared since the day they laid eyes on each other. Her constantly feeling pestered but loved and him constantly feeling hungry and lonely without her and the constant regret and self-pity made her stomach churn most days. It was like feeling a dog kick itself and lick its wounds all day. She didn't know what he did but somehow, she just knew whatever it was afforded him enough power and silence to drift in the shadows unnoticed and apparently afforded him a lot of money as she often felt him call her broke. She didn't mind though as she had her own unfavorable opinions of him at times also. She used to try tracking him down or reaching out to the last known aliases she knew him as. As time passed, she was more and more sure he didn't actually share his real name though and kicked herself for not getting more answers about this strange connection when she had the chance. Answers was what she wanted most now but answers was what she was most sure she would never get. How could such a powerful man be so cowardly she thought to herself knowing he would hear her. How could someone hold so much desire as she felt the same hunger pains, he felt for her in her own body he wanted her so bad. The desire was evident as she used it to pleasure herself better on many occasions. The heightened sexuality was very real. Yet the judgements stood in the way every time as he longingly judged her every action every day as his way of holding back the desire. She just loathed the feeling which made not looking for him even easier, but the love and curiosity was always looming in the air unspoken as they were likely worlds apart but together. Psychic and mystic journeys about twin flames and separated souls was the closest she had ever gotten to explaining the strange reactions they had both experienced after meeting eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul is a statement she had always heard since a child, and she believed it even more now after meeting him. Our eyes are the same was the very first thought she had after seeing his beautiful face for the first time. He definitely was a looker from what she could remember but that was so long ago the actual face could never be recalled just the eyes. He had the most beautiful Egyptian eyes she had ever seen second to her own of course. And no one had ever made her question that fact but if she could go back and take back a look she definitely would now after having her life destroyed and torn apart by madness. Shortly after meeting him she began to hear things that weren't there. She would start to answer questions before people spoke them out loud or accuse someone of jealousy or dislike for her without knowing specifically why she felt they hated her so strongly. She became a human lie detector which did not afford her many friends in this cruel world. Life became better alone and that was when she noticed the feelings. The eyes always watching and at first she searched for the cameras and after watching a few scary hostile and hotel murderer films she was sure she would never find them. So, after hiding for weeks in her home from the unknown force she gave in and accepted it as a way of life. Cowardly I know right but what's worse being a coward or a mad woman in the police station accusing a guy whose real name she did not know of some hidden crime she did not see corroborated by the voice in her head that they can not hear. Yes, I will take the private paranoia for 500 Pat. At least she could suffer in silence like the strong woman she is she thought. Never let em see you sweat. She often took comfort in the knowing she wasn't the crazed obsessed stalker in the situation and since he wasn't coming to kill her, she figured she would live to fight another day. Most days it actually worked to her advantage. Her packages always showed up on time and things she privately mentioned she needed were placed directly in her path so at least he was a handy stalker right. But what she wanted mot was a conversation. Just to know what happened to her, why his eyes set her soul on fire and to be taken serious for once. All she wanted was an explanation and if he couldn't give her that then at least someone to say she wasn't crazy, and he felt it too. And although she had given up hope little did she know that day would come sooner then she knew.
Another day another dollar she thought as she rolled out of bed and into work just several feet away. This worked for her she thought. No people, no drama, no spirits she thought just plain old work on a plain old day. If she had to keep making money it might as well be from home, she thought. She couldn't shake the nagging feelings that he even saw her at work or could somehow influence her job. He was everywhere to her kind of like a goldfish in a fishbowl silently swimming not even noticing the giant creep face watching beyond the glass. She had such distaste for the lose of privacy as she herself could not spy on him in his private hours or watch him take off his clothes and undress in private moments that only people and God should share. But sometimes she wondered what it would truly be like without him now. What would it be like to not have him in her head? For a directionless soul like herself it was often quit comforting not to be alone but not bothered or burdened by the other issues and problems that accompany company. She felt like she would always be safe. Well even if his actions were not for love she was fine with grief or pity so long as it didn't stop her show. She often wondered if overtime the obsession turned into a sense of duty or regret that he couldn't unburden. No matter the cause she appreciated the sentiment. After all it had afforded her creature comforts like her job and living space. Often when others had inspections or general management concerns, she had none. How lucky am I she thought to be unbothered as she wasn't really a fan of people, and it would be just her luck she ran into one of the most concerning humans of all. He wasn't responsible for her whole life per say. She still had to be good at her job or at least show up as she wasn't quite sure she was really any good at it, but she liked the people. She liked being able to help at an arm's length for security. People never really made her feel safe. They always said one thing and did another but that was life or at least that's how she had begun to look at it. Take people for face value as they usually had nothing more, but it wasn't truly the world that scared her, just the people in it. The grass and the trees, ants and bees were great she thought if we didn't have the horrible humans to burn them down or steal what isn't truly ours but that's for another day as most people hated hearing about all of their faults and those around them. So being stalked by a relatively decent not killer bound stalker seemed pretty okay in her book. Hell, most people got worse. I could be on first 48 right now in a body bag with Fred the local garbage man in room 13 being interrogated by over worked under paid cops who would love to solve the simple yet gruesome murder of yet another lovely girl as they would call me. Of course, that title would be given by Theresa from accounting who just happened to be walking by the desk and seeing my unfortunate situation sprawled out like dinner menus on a table for two. So, in the scheme of things a quiet stalker was appreciated for a woman in this day and age and mine even came equipped with perks.