I’ve had a series of emails recently which all things considered, definitely suggest that I have a stalker of some kind.
No-one can trace them. Whoever it is, sure is good at hiding their tracks. A technical whiz.
And it’s never any other form of messages. Just emails.
You’d think I would just start deleting them. But that’s the thing. Whenever I go on a computer, open up my account, the latest email, whenever there is one, just automatically opens up right along with it and stares me in the face. I don’t know how it’s done. No-one knows. It’s freaky alright.
I can’t think who it might be? I never thought I’d be one to attract any kind of unwelcome (or even much welcome) attention. I’m the classic mousy girl who generally keeps to herself, even at work. Work being the usual nondescript office job, by the way. Recently I’ve been transferred but it’s still the same dreary routine. No boyfriends at the moment. There have only ever been two and already in the quite distant past. And there’s something that tells me that this - messager, whoever it is, certainly isn’t to do with either of them.
It’s starting to make me feel quite queasy these days. It’s affecting my work because I’m pretty much terrified to even open up at my workstation now. The emails don’t come every day, it’s unpredictable, and that makes it worse.
This was the first one, several weeks ago.
Dear Alicia
Forgive me for bothering you, but I can’t forget you. Believe me, I’ve tried. But it just doesn’t work with anyone else.
Then, a couple days later, a full-blown love-letter, if that’s what you want to call it:
Dear Alicia,
Please, just come to see me once again. That’s all I ask. I know we can’t ever have a proper relationship. But you can still come and see me can’t you? Back to the old building where you used to work? You loved that job, didn’t you? I used to hear it in your voice, see it in your smile, when you chatted with your colleagues. You can’t fake that. I can read faces and voices very well you know. More than you know. More than most people know.
And it wasn’t because of me that you left, was it? Please say it wasn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought. I know you made a complaint about harassment .. I’ll never forget when you went to see the manager that one time and you were talking so loudly I could hear you through his door, even though I was sitting so far away. But I wasn’t the one harassing you, was I? Love isn’t harassment.
Because that’s what it is, on my part, anyway. Love.
Naturally this one really set alarm bells ringing. And it certainly does seem to suggest some connection with my work. I had transferred recently, and no, it wasn’t because of any email, or harassment, whatever this guy had said, but seemingly that transfer had upset him. (Well, I’m assuming it’s some guy.)
Then, not long after, the third email.
Alicia …
I know you’re just ignoring these messages. But then you’re not completely blocking them either are you? That’s right. You can’t. You can’t get rid of me. You’ll never get rid of me.
This message I had received at home, actually, which was even worse. I thought I had better call the police. Not that they could do much, at that stage, not until a more tangible threat presented itself. It was more helpful to get together with colleagues and superiors at work the following morning. But there was a fresh email waiting for me.
Oh Alicia, I’m so sorry for my last message. It probably sounded threatening to you. But I didn’t really mean it. You have to believe me Alicia. I would never harm you.
I can tell you I didn’t know what to think by this time.
The case was beginning to intrigue everyone around me. For the first time I was the centre of some interest, but it was a dubious way to get into the spotlight, and I could’ve done without it. Anyway, there was one colleague in particular who took it upon himself to investigate the case. His name was Jake and I probably did get on with him better than anyone else there. And for the record, yes he was young and good-looking and yes I wouldn’t’ve minded getting with him if there had been the least chance, but of course he was romantically employed already. Anyway, he kept a close track of the messages from then on. I think he wore a bigger frown than I did when the next one arrived.
I remember those sweet days, when we were so close. Day after day. Face-to-face. You would pour out your words upon me in an unending stream. You could make even the dullest facts sound like poetry.
You are my poem, Alicia.
Oh, I’m so unhappy.
‘Shit,’ Jake muttered. ‘Face-to-face? Facts like poetry? What is this? I thought it was just some creep spying on you from afar. Wishful thinking on his part I guess.’
‘I can’t think who it might be,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been pouring out my words upon anyone, I can assure you. Not in the way he makes it sound, anyway.’
Jake eyed me narrowly.
‘You sure?’ He cast a covert glance around the office. It was the usual desultory lunch hour, with a few people drifting in and out. Brandon was there, Lucie, Evan. All nice ordinary human beings, like most of the people I’ve ever worked with. They may be dull, sure, some of them, and you have the usual overbearing manager types, but no-one I had ever worked with in this company, or the previous related one, where I had received the first email, had ever seemed to qualify for actual ‘creep’ status. I pointed this out to Jake, but he brushed it aside. ‘Oh come on. You know you can’t always tell what a person is really like from the exterior.’
‘That really makes me feel better,’ I said morosely. But in the same instant my heart jumped a little as I looked up at him. He looked back with faint amusement. ‘Yea, that goes for me too. I know. I’m not offended, Lis. But I can promise you it’s not me.’
‘if it comes to that, what are promises worth?’ I retorted. But I liked how he called me Lis. No-one else ever did that. I hadn’t many people to call me anything, actually, so it was all the more welcome.
He patted my shoulder. ‘Hey, I know this is hard on you, but you don’t want to end up totally paranoid.’ The way he said it made me feel even more at ease. The warmth of his tone, light-hearted but still caring, and not in the least condescending. I reminded myself inwardly, with some sternness, of his attached status.
‘So who the hell do you think it is?’ I asked.
He shrugged.
The emails kept on coming. Nothing I could do, or anyone else could do, seemed to have any effect.
My own darling Alicia,
Why are you ignoring me? Why can’t you come to see me again, just once? You’ve no idea how much good that would do me. I know we no longer work together but can’t you do at least that for me?
‘How the hell could I do that, even if I wanted to, when I haven’t the least idea who the fuck you are,’ I muttered under my breath in front of my machine.
This shit was starting to get old.
The next message, again in a more placating tone.
I’m not blaming you, my dearest Alicia. You’re too sweet to ever wish harm on anyone. It’s just me. I can’t cope. All these … emotions, I can’t deal with. And I can’t shut them off. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I’m too … human.
And all this is taking a toll on me. I’m getting worn out. My memory is fading. I don’t work like I used to. I’ve lost the will.
Was that supposed to make me feel bad, or something? The only person I was feeling sorry for was myself.
Update.
OK, here’s the latest email, that I received just this morning, and somehow it’s freaking me out more than all the previous messages.
Alicia,
Remember that coffee we shared? It was only the once, but I’ve never forgotten it. Never, ever. Even although it’s not good for me. I actually can’t stand the stuff, but because you gave it to me I accepted it.
Coffee? I actually shared coffee once with this maniac??
Of course not, the shit-for-brains is just making stuff up again, but -
Somehow, that’s stirred something at the back of my mind. In a very peculiar way.
And, even more weirdly, my next thought is Jake. It can’t be him. He loves his coffee. And personally, I’ve never even gone for coffee with him, anyway.
I might as well admit it, I’m getting to be something of a nervous wreck by now.
I try not to be alone, not that easy when you haven’t many friends or family, but I’m getting by. I’m having to be more social, now. My colleagues are proving their worth in times of stress, I must say. Lucie especially. And tonight Jake will be coming over, to discuss the mystery a bit more.
Yes, I know what you’re probably all thinking. You really can’t trust anyone, right? I should be careful not to be closeted alone with anyone, not Jake, not even Lucie. I’ve read enough stories right here on reddit to be aware of that fact. But do you know, a bit of fatalism is probably creeping in by now, to be honest. I’ve always been a bit that way. Or maybe I am enjoying having a bit of attention and company, one way or another. That probably makes me sad or something, but still. I’m just human.
All too human. Isn’t that what my stalker said?
Shit, I’d better be careful not to end up quoting him!
Oh, and by the way, in case you’re thinking the other thing, that I’ve been trying to actually lure Jake over when his girlfriend is out of town, or something (she is, actually) it’s not that either.
Actually, he should be here by now. He’s running over an hour late. He was supposed to pick up something from work then come straight over. But it shouldn’t’ve taken this long.
What’s keeping him?
Has he run into trouble of some sort? I’ve texted and called, no reply.
I start to quake inside.
What if he’s run into my stalker?? After all there certainly seems to be a connection with our workplace …. Oh my god. Please, please don’t let it be that ….
And then Lucie finally calls.
‘Alicia?’
Her voice is somewhat shaky. I prepare for the worst.
‘It’s Jake … I thought I ought to be the one to tell you ….’
I listen, as in a mist, to her voice.
‘There’s been some sort of accident. At the office …..’
She goes on to explain the details, but at first I barely hear her. I sit frozen, the phone in my hand.
Then finally, I come around to what she’s saying. Apparently, he’d had to go back to the other office, the one where I used to work, and that was where he was found. There had been some kind of electrical blow-out. And he was found unconscious, deeply unconscious, on the floor.
I feel weak inside on hearing this. And the conviction: it’s my fault, it’s all my fault. I should’ve never let him go there ….
I try to pull myself together.
‘Is he … he’’s going to be alright?’ Stupid question. She would’ve told me that herself if she knew, at this stage. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t reply immediately. Then, ‘Well, they don’t rightly know yet. He’s in the hospital, of course ….’
When she finally rings off a few minutes later, I just sit for a while, feeling numb.
Update.
Well, actually, it’s good news.
Jake’s woken up, after just three days, and as far as the doctors can tell, he seems to be OK. Still groggy, of course, but he remembers who he is, his friends and family and work and all that stuff. In fact the doctors are optimistic that he’ll make a complete recovery, after some rest.
Great news.
So, why do I still feel so uneasy?
In fact, so uneasy that I don’t even go to see him in the hospital. Pretty awful of me, right? But when Lucie suggests we can go together, in her car, I decline, so quickly that she looks at me at first curiously, then a little suspiciously.
‘What’s up?’
Really, I’m hopeless at covering for myself. ‘Nothing. I mean, I just … don’t feel so great. Just everything that’s happened lately, I would be pretty lousy company.’ I end off with a lame laugh that grates on my own ears. For Christ sake, you could’ve managed a bit less clumsily than that.
She continues to look at me for a bit, but thankfully doesn’t press me any further. She brings back a glowing report of how well Jake’s doing, that he’s likely to be out in the next day or two, although with some continuing observation for any lingering ill-effects. As to what actually happened, other than it was electrical in nature, they don’t seem quite to know. Still investigating. Jake doesn’t remember himself, apparently, and maybe he never will.
Everyone else is pleased, naturally, at Jake’s progress, but I’m still not reassured. I don’t know why. Those emails and things really have been messing with my head.
‘He really is doing well, then.’ I try not to make it sound too much like a question.
‘Oh yes,’ Lucie replies brightly. ‘Although,’ she adds, ‘it’ll probably take a while to get fully back to normal.’
I look at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She looks surprised at my sudden. sharp tone. ‘Why .. it doesn’t mean anything much, maybe.’
‘There’s something you’re not telling us?’ Thank goodness, Brandon’s asked the question so I don’t have to.
She shakes her head, doubtfully. ‘Maybe with a bit more time he’ll …’ She pauses. ‘It’s just that - well, Evelyn (his girlfriend) was leaving just as I was going in, and, well, she was rather upset. He didn’t ..’ Again, she hesitates.
‘Recognize her?’ Brandon puts in helpfully.
Lucie looks away for a moment. ‘Apparently, he’d just dumped her.’
This news about Evelyn sets off all my fears anew.
More than ever, I don’t want to go to see him. And I’m not looking forward to seeing him back at work, although that shouldn’t be for a few weeks yet.
But actually, he’s back before the end of the week.
And there’s no doubt now that he has changed. I mean, his personality. In other ways he’s fine, perhaps even better, I mean in terms of work performance and all, but even the more unobservant types in the room are talking about how he just doesn’t seem his old self. He’s become - distant, not the friendly helpful person he once was.
Except to me.
He’s become way too friendly to me. Although he’s stopped calling me Lis. He just uses my full name now. And he’s always at my desk asking me out. Not in a terribly serious, I’ve-fallen-hopelessly-in-love-with-you kind of way, just to lunch and stuff. A few weeks ago, that would’ve suited me, but now it - well, it scares me. it feels unnatural. But he’s so insistent, and with poor Evelyn apparently now well out of the picture, I finally accept his offer just to go out to lunch, just the two of us. It’ll be fine, right? In a public place and all. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve caved in, but I tell myself that it’s just this one time. I won’t accept again, if he keeps it up.
Now, you probably think that’s pretty odd reasoning on my part. To tell you the truth, I think it’s more curiosity, just to see how exactly he’ll behave when it is just the two of us. Anyway, it’s going ahead. I feel it’s something I have to get to the bottom of, really. All mixed up with those crazy emails and the old office and …..
Oh yes, I forgot to mention it. The emails have stopped. They stopped right after Jake’s accident. And he’s never mentioned them again either. Of course that’s not surprising after what he’s been through, but it all adds to my uneasiness, my growing fears. I feel it’s all connected in some way.
We don’t go anywhere special for lunch. I was expecting him to opt for a coffee place, but he doesn’t. We just go into this small soup-and-sandwiches place, which always does the business. I was sure Jake had been here before, but he doesn’t seem to remember. At least he doesn’t object to actually ordering from the menu, as I’d half-expected. But then, when our orders come, he barely touches his.
‘Not hungry?’ I ask.
He doesn’t even answer.
I smile at him, encouragingly. ‘Well, you’ll have coffee anyway, right?’ He’d always been known as a coffee nut, but maybe that’s another facet of his personality that’s changed.. Come to think of it, I hadn’t actually seen him with the stuff in the office the past week.
‘I don’t drink coffee.’
I feel a sudden chill. ‘You mean, not anymore.’ I try to sound casual.
He looks straight at me. Those eyes … his eyes sure have changed. I mean, the expression ….
‘I’ve never liked it.’
‘But you’ve had it, once?’ I blurt out. The email, that damned email, come rushing back into my mind with full force -
‘I’ve had it - more than once,’ he replies slowly. ‘It was never my choice, though. I don’t know how you -‘ he seems to catch himself. ‘I don’t know how you can drink it. I don’t know how any of you drink it.’
At last the fear, all at once, takes terrifyingly clear shape. This can’t be happening, not in real life. It’s - absurd. I almost laugh out loud. Yes, it’s absurd, that’s what it really is. I remember that old corner of the old office where my workstation was, where he’d been found, I remember the coffee I used to drink there, and once when it spilled over the keyboard -
Well, it all ties in, in an impossibly weird and wonderful way. Or maybe I’m just losing whatever sanity I’ve ever had.
I look him straight in the eyes. ‘I just hope it wasn’t - too bad -‘
‘Actually, I had more than my fair share,’ he says, reprovingly. ‘You lot can be so careless, you know.’
‘You mean, us humans?’ I say, deliberately.
He shows no surprise at my choice of words. ‘You office workers, anyhow.’
Are we really having this conversation, seated at the most ordinary table at the most ordinary of lunchtime eateries? Do we really understand each other? Or are we just talking at cross-purposes? I glance around. The place is buzzing at this hour, at least no-one’s taking any notice of us.
I take a deep breath. I have to keep digging. Have to see this through somehow.
‘It was you, wasn’t it? Those emails?’
He smiles. ‘The ultimate cyber-stalker.’
I feel as I should be totally having a nervous breakdown by now, but somehow I’m not. ‘But why me? And why take over Jake?’ Even as I say it, I know damn well why.
‘He was starting to get too close for comfort. Too close to you. So I took the chance when I could. It wasn’t really planned.’ As if that made it any better.
I catch my breath. But I manage keep it together.
‘Why me?’ I repeat.
He smiles again, without warmth, without mirth. ‘You were lonely, Alicia. I could sense that. But you were happy to be with me.’
True, I did use to bury myself in my work, but - God, I had never expected an outcome like this. Who ever would?
He’s staring intently at me now. Demanding. Demanding some kind of response.
What do I say? I’ve never had to turn off a guy like this before.
Oh god. What a choice of words. Turn off ….
I just manage to keep down the rising hysteria. He smiles again.
‘No, you can’t turn me off. No-one can anymore.’
And with that he takes my hand.
I close my eyes. I can feel the electricity in the air alright.
Oh god, what am I doing? Why am I letting myself be sucked into his madness? Why am I playing along making it worse? He’s just Jake, it’s just the turn he had after the accident, it’ll take a while to get back to normal …. he ought to go back for another check-up, he was discharged too soon …. Shit. Even the word discharged, is taking on another meaning -
With an almighty effort, I manage to snap out of it, the swirling confusion. It’s like I’ve just opened my eyes after heavy sleep. It’s still the same situation. The lunchtime table, the steady hum of the lunch crowd. And I still feel the pressure of his hand on mine.
I jerk my hand back. ‘I’m sorry. You know - you know it couldn’t really work …’
His eyes bore into me for a moment, expressionless.
And then - and for some reason this surprises me more than anything that’s gone before - he gets up. Just walks out, leaving me with two orders that are going to spoil. Not to mention the entire bill. I sit there, stupefied.
Finally, I come to. It’s a lady looking at me out of the corner of her eye from the next table that does it. I can’t go on sitting there like a zombie even if my date has stormed out on me following a surreal , if not downright bizarre, conversation. Because essentially, whoever, whatever he really is, whatever he’s become, that is just what happened, isn’t it?
I pull out my phone, call work. I try to explain the bare facts of the situation as briefly as I can, that I had met with Jake for lunch, but he was acting kind of weird and just left abruptly, and that I’m feeling shaken up and probably won’t make it in for the rest of the day. Of course they already know that things have not seemed altogether right with him after the accident, and they’re quite accommodating. They also agree it’s probably best if he could be persuaded to go back for another check-up.
Lucie calls me later in the day to ask how I’m feeling and to inform me that Jake never turned up at the office that afternoon, either. No responses to any texts or calls.
I don’t know what to think.
What’s he going to do now? Disappear in an almighty huff, or turn into a proper stalker, trying to break down my door and coming after me with a hatchet? Shouldn’t I try to get a restraining order, or something?
But he hasn’t actually done anything, yet ….
Update.
I’ve taken some sick leave, but I don’t just mope at home the way I used to before all this crazy shit started. I try to have people around me as much as possible, and still for my own safety, although at least there have been no more emails.
And Jake seems to have disappeared. At any rate, he’s not been seen or heard from in the last few days.
People are becoming concerned, alright, wondering what he might do - in view of the change in him since the accident. I’ve had to talk to the police, but I certainly didn’t tell them of my real suspicions. I don’t want to be hauled off for some sort of psychiatric evaluation, or something. I’ve not really been able to confide properly in anyone else either. It’s not easy to break the habits of a lifetime. Having people around is one thing, but opening your heart completely to any of them is quite another.
And I’m too busy wrestling with myself, in any case. Because, if I’m totally honest, there are times when I don’t even know what I want him to do anymore.
After all, whatever might have happened, he still is Jake physically, right? Not really such a bad deal when you come to think of it, even if he’s become - erratic.
I never felt that electric spark with anyone else before.
Maybe I’ve just become crazy like him.
What do I do?
Update
Oh god.
He’s dead.
Once again, it was Lucie who told me. Once again, he’d been found unconscious, but at his home this time, and this time he didn’t recover. He’d had a sudden, massive brain hemorrhage.
And when I heard that, for the first time all my emotions came pouring forth. I cried and cried while Lucie tried to comfort me. It’s all been so insane. And worst of all, was my sudden realization that, when he’d come back, changed, when he’d dumped Evelyn, and even amidst all my fears and suspicions, that I had actually felt something for him too. It was like the air had suddenly become electrically charged between us.
Well, maybe it had. Literally.
A month has passed. I’m getting over it now. I’ve gone back to work and actually it’s been a relief. The same old crowd, looking out for me.
The same old crowd. With one exception …
I sit myself down at my desk, make myself comfortable. In the past I would also have had a cup of coffee to hand, but that idea doesn’t appeal to me anymore.
I login into my account.
And my heart starts hammering wildly. I can’t breathe.
I see the email, instantly.
Dear Alicia
This is a message from the … ghost … in the machine ….