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.
Anyway, I thought I might put them on here, see what other people think?
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 morosely. ‘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.
OK, this is an update on the latest email, which 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.