I'm slightly disappointed that my stalker is obviously off duty this evening. It is not lost on me that this is not the healthiest of thoughts. I smile anyway.
I take a shower, standing under the spray longer than I know I should. Hot water doesn't come for free. But I allow myself this little luxury today as I shed the tears I knew would come for Willow. "Rest in peace, princess," I whisper as the warm spray washes over me, mixing with my tears. After not too long, I get out and towel off.
I pull on a pair of black yoga pants, a purple tank top and a big dark gray sweatshirt that falls off my shoulders and trudge into the kitchen to make myself some dinner. I heat up some of the homemade vegetable soup I made a couple days ago, and toast some bread. There is enough soup left to put in a small tupperware container so I ladle it in and then walk down the hall to Mrs. Jenner's apartment, knocking lightly. When she answers, I smile and say, "Have you eaten yet? I have some homemade veggie soup if you haven't."
She smiles big and says, "Oh dear, you're always so sweet. Thank you so much."
I smile back, saying, "You're welcome. Night, Mrs. Jenner."
Back in my kitchen, I put my own dinner on a tray and take it back into the only other small room. I sit on the floor and lean against my loveseat as I eat. A studio apartment doesn't allow for a lot of furniture, but that's okay because it's not like I entertain. I put The Shawshank Redemption, one of my favorite movies, into the dvd player and push play. I don't spend the extra money on cable, so I rely on the dvd's I've picked up at garage sales, but I'd usually rather read anyway, so it's fine by me.
After I clean up my dishes, I end up falling asleep in front of the movie and when I finally drag myself into bed, it's after midnight.
My alarm goes off at seven a.m. and I pull myself out of bed and put on my running gear. It's a chilly morning and so I pull on ear muffs and a fleece jacket. I take a minute or two to stretch outside my apartment, my breath coming out in white puffs in front of me as I take off down the street. I tighten my fist around the door key I have in my pocket, like the self-defense instructor taught us to do in the course I took at the community college. It gives me comfort. I hold onto it until I jog into the semi populated running track of the park and then I zip my pocket closed with the key inside and take out my ear buds and push play on my iPod. I run my usual three miles and return home, feeling strong and energized.
I take a quick shower, drying my long, dark hair and putting it up into a ponytail and pulling on a pair of worn jeans and an oversized gray sweater. It's my day off and I'm going to do nothing more than putter around, make a trip to the library and spend the rest of the day on my balcony under a blanket, with a good book and a cup of tea. I briefly wonder if this plan might qualify me for early social security benefits. While other 22 year olds are sleeping in so they're well rested for the club later tonight, I'm taking stock of my tea collection. Yup.
Thirty minutes later, after making my bed and doing a quick pick up of my studio, I'm just beginning the walk down the street to the local neighborhood library, when I spot a dark silver BMW parked about a block up the street from my apartment. I don't know anything about cars, but I note the model on the back, M6. I smile slightly to myself. On duty today, I see.
I make it to the library and spend about an hour there, picking out a new stack of books for the upcoming week. I have four novels, a budget friendly cookbook, and a book about The Second World War. I may not have the money right now to go to college, but knowledge is only a library card away and I pick up a new subject each week.
As I make my way back to my apartment, I clock tall, dark-ish and handsome about a block behind me, walking leisurely and pretending to talk on his cell phone.
I make a decision. I pass my own apartment and I pick up my pace a little and as I turn the corner, I break into a run and turn into the small alley in the middle of the block. I run down the alley, hoping to double around and come up behind him.
I'm out of breath as I turn the corner on my own street again and walk very swiftly to the end of the block and peek around the corner. Sure enough, he's standing in the middle of the block, clearly confused and not knowing where I disappeared to. I walk quietly up behind him and say loudly, "It's impolite to stalk strangers!"
He whirls around and jumps back slightly, as he sucks a loud breath in through his slightly parted mouth. His eyes are wide. "Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!"
"I scared you?" I say incredulously, glaring at him, "You're the one following me like a creeper." I cock my head to the side. "By the way, pointer, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious about it. For instance, standing in the middle of the street gawking at your victim tends to be a giveaway." I narrow my eyes.
He remains silent, staring at me intently, his lips slightly parted. His lips! They're really nice lips! Don't be distracted, Evie! He could still be a serial killer! At the very least, a serious weirdo.
I put my hands on my hips. "Don't despair though. I'm sure with some study, you could get better. There might be an instructional video or something you could pick up… maybe a book on the subject, Creepy Stalker for Dummies?" I raise one eyebrow.