I work at a very large supermarket and deal with quite literally, hundreds of customers a day. I first met Dave six years ago, he came into the store and asked for some help finding something. We had some small talk, he thanked me for my help and he left. He came in quite regularly after that and always made a beeline for me in the store. He’d strike up a short conversation and then leave, nothing I wouldn’t expect of any other regulars.
He stopped coming into the store about three years ago and honestly, I didn’t realise it until I saw him again a few months back. I was walking home when he pulled over in his car and shouted me.
“Eileen! I thought that was you!”
I walked over to the car and cringed when I realised I had forgotten his name. “Oh hi! It’s been a while since you’ve been in the shop, how are you?”
“I’m good thanks, I’ve been away for a few years but I’m back for good now. Do you need a lift anywhere?”
“I’m ok, thanks though. I only live up the road.” Shouldn’t have said that. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too, see you soon.”
He drove away and his name finally popped into my head. I laughed to myself, thinking it was typical to remember it the second I no longer needed to. I went home and didn’t give the interaction a second thought.
He first came back into the store about three days after I saw him, he came over and again made some small talk and left. He was coming in at least once a week from then on. Nothing weird at this point, everyone does a weekly shop right? But then I started bumping into him quite a lot outside of work. We live in the same area, so I didn’t think anything of it at first but it started to become a bit too regular.
It started off with bumping into him a couple of times when I was walking home, it was always on the road I spoke to him on a few months ago.
About eight weeks ago, I went into the city centre to go shopping with my daughter and granddaughters. We see him in a store and he comes over, says hello and introduces himself to the girls.
A week after that, I was going to the post office to pay my bills. I saw him waiting in the queue through the window, I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so I ducked into the shop next door and went in once he had left.
Five weeks ago, I bumped into him at a pub when I was out with friends. He spotted me from the bar, waved and then came over. He said, “I’m starting to think you’re stalking me”, and laughed. I was seeing him at least twice a week at this point. I was getting tired of having to have the same small talk every time. Of course though, I forced a smile and remained polite. He bought my friends and I a round of drinks and then went back to sit at the bar, within my eyeline. I got my friends to leave to another pub shortly after, his presence made me feel like I couldn’t relax.
Two days after the pub, I saw him in the park when I was out for a walk. He said he was just out for some fresh air and asked if he could join me on my walk. I said yes because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no. We chatted about nothing as we walked. I asked him if he’d been anywhere nice while he was away and he deflected the conversation, which I thought was weird. He pointed out that I was looking tired lately, which I thought was rude. I explained that with the lighter mornings coming in, the birds around my house were waking up a lot earlier and in turn waking me up with their constant tweeting. There was a flash of annoyance on his face, which disappeared as quickly as it came on him. He muttered that I needed to do something about that as I needed my sleep. I laughed and said it happens every year, it just takes me a couple of weeks to get used to it. We parted ways shortly after and I went home.
A few days later he came into the store while I was working. This was the turning point of when it started to get uncomfortable.
“Thanks so much for letting me walk with you the other day, Eileen.”
“You’re welcome, Dave.”
“No, really. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
“Oh…”
“It’s rare to meet someone like you, someone so genuinely nice. Who would have thought when we met all those years ago, we’d become such good friends.”
“Right…”
“I’ve been thinking about writing a story about it, our story. I’d call it ‘My Friend Dave’.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything then! I’ll let you read it once it’s finished. Could you help me find some vinegar while I’m here though?”
I nodded and led him towards where the vinegar is kept. I turned my back to him to grab it and I could have sworn he leaned forward and smelled my hair.
Four weeks ago, I opened my door to find a gift wrapped box on the step. I looked around but couldn’t see anyone. Inside was camomile tea, lavender pillow drops, a sleep mask and a note that said “to help you sleep”. I called my daughter and a couple of friends to see if they had left it, all of them said no. I assumed it had to be from someone close to me, they’d just forgot to leave their name.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of my alarm rather than the birds. I chuckled to myself thinking those gifts really did the trick. I went downstairs and made myself a cup of tea. I opened the curtains and what I saw through the window made me drop my cup out of shock, smashing it on the floor. There were about ten to fifteen birds lying dead all over my garden. I went out to have a closer look but there was nothing to suggest what had killed them. It really freaked me out, it looked like something out of a horror film. I went back inside to get supplies to dispose of them and noticed a note had been posted through my letter box. It said “you’re welcome”.
I reported the dead birds and the note to the police, but they didn’t know what to make of it. They told me to just keep an eye out and let them know if anything else weird happens. I mentioned it to Dave next time I saw him to see how he’d react, he sympathised with me and didn’t give any indication that he had anything to do with it. I tried to shake my suspicion of him. I thought to myself, he doesn’t know where I live so how could it be him? But that conversation in the park stuck in my head.
Last week things took a darker turn. A USB stick was posted through my letterbox, the note with it read “I’m glad to see you’re sleeping better.” With shaky hands I plugged it into my laptop and pressed play. At first it was just a black screen with some heavy breathing. I watched carefully and after a few seconds the screen seemed to adjust to the darkness. It looked like someone filming through slats of some sort. Through those slats was me, fast asleep in my bed. Someone had filmed me sleeping from my closet. The blood drained from my face. My fight or flight kicked in and before I knew it, my legs had carried me out into the street.
I first called the police and then my daughter. The police came and thoroughly searched my house but found nothing. They recommended I stay somewhere else for now while they investigate. I told them about Dave and they said they’d bring him in for questioning, though they told me a couple of days ago that they are struggling to find him as all I know is his first name. I’ve been staying at my daughter’s house since and I’ve called out of work. I thought I was safe here, up until yesterday.
A notebook was posted through my daughter’s door, scribbled on the front was “My friend, Dave. Or so he thought”. The contents are extremely disturbing. He is very angry that I called the police, he constantly repeats throughout it that it “wasn’t nice to do that”. He says he thought we were friends and he was just looking out for me, like good friends do. There are pictures of me going about my daily routine, he says he just wanted to understand me better. There are pictures of the gifts I received and the dead birds, he says he just wanted to make sure I was well rested so I remain “genuinely nice”, as that’s his favourite thing about me. What disturbed me most though, were the pictures of my family. There were pictures of my daughter and grandchildren, at their home, at work, at school. He knows every inch of my life. He says that I need to meet him tomorrow.
“Don’t involve the police, I’ll know. You need to be nice and prove how good of a friend you are. If you don’t, I will be forced to do something that will ruin our friendship forever. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”.
I can’t help but feel that this is a threat against my family, as the images of them were attached to this particular page.
I don’t know what to do, and I’m running out of time.