Despite the warmth of the summer sun, her blood ran cold when she spotted the long, crisp envelop in her mailbox. She pulled it out with her fingertips and turned it over. Only her name on the back, typed. She glanced around frantically, walking briskly back into her house.

Bolting the lock, she slid to the ground, sitting with her back to the heavy, wooden front door. She stared at the envelope, eyes wide. Another one. Shoving her thumb under the flap, she ripped it open. Hesitating only briefly, she pulled out the trifolded paper.

It read: Dearest, You’ve always been beautiful to me. And seeing you during your bedtime and morning routines the last couple days made me realize exactly how perfect you are. You are flawless. I am anxious to see more of you, to get to know more of you. Your One and Only ❤︎

A shiver ran up her back. She shook it off, dropping the letter to the floor, and brought her knees to her chest, holding them tightly. Who in the world was sending her these messages?

***

Standing in front of her bathroom sink, she felt like she was just going through the motions of brushing her hair, arms stiff. The creepy letter she received that day was from someone who had been watching her during these very moments. She froze with her brush midair. Were they watching her right now?

She glanced to her right at the frosted window. The most someone would see through that glass might be her shadow. Without moving, she scanned the walls and ceiling. Could there be a hidden camera? When would that have been installed? The letter only said the last couple days. A small branch snapped outside.

She dropped her brush in the sink and pounced toward the window, unlatching the lock and yanking it up. A shadow jerked out of the bush and ran toward the street. She leaned out, screaming, “Freak! What do you want?” The runner glanced back just as he passed under the streetlight, and she caught sight of his face despite the hoodie. She sucked in a quick breath.

Shakily stepping back, she lowered the window and locked it back up. There. In the lower corner the frost was scratched away, enough for a person to peer inside if their face was against the glass. She needed to reach out to the police.

***

After startling the man outside her bathroom window the previous night, she had placed a piece of duct tape over the scratched out corner of the frosted window where he had peered in. She shared the multiple messages she had received with police, and after describing the man, they seemed to take her seriously.

At the moment, an unidentified car was parked just down the street in the shadows between streetlights. She felt just a little bit safer and like progress was finally being made. Walking into her bathroom and switching on the light, she froze. The duct tape. It had been removed.

When had that happened? She shivered. He had to have been in her house. Was he still there? She pulled out her phone and dialed. As she shakily walked toward the front door, she could hear the officer on duty getting out of the unmarked car. They were going to search her house. She had never been so on edge in her life.

***

She sat on her couch, in the dim light of a table lamp, listening to the patter of light rain. The officer had cleared her house almost an hour ago, confirming the creep wasn’t hiding in there somewhere. They told her to act as if nothing had happened and continue her night routine.

Taking a deep breath, she clutched her hands together and stood. Despite the reassurances, she still felt incredibly insecure. But the officer seemed confident. She strode back into her bathroom and stood at the sink, avoiding looking at the scratched out corner of the frosted window.

After completing her routine, she switched the light off and walked toward bed. Officers shouted. She ran back to the bathroom window, her adrenaline racing, and yanked it open. Two officers struggled with a hooded figure in the street.

***

The mug fell from her hand, shattering on the corner of her coffee table and flinging hot tea everywhere. But she didn’t notice. Instead, her eyes remained glued to the face on the tv. It was him. The man police had taken down outside her house.

According to the reporter, this was the man who had been taking women once a month, doing what he wished with them, and leaving their wounded dead bodies for others to find. He eluded the police for over a year. Finally he was being brought to justice.

A commercial came on and she shut the tv off, staring at the now blank screen, her ears buzzing. The man who had been stalking her was the serial killer? One of the statements the officer made, after the creep had been secured in the back of a police car, took on added weight. “You helped eliminate a threat.”

***

This post was inspired by the hope*writers writing prompts for May 2022.

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