Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Stalker Story


I just found this story on my external hard drive. Wrote it a while ago... a while ago!
just thought I'd post it for fun. It's full of all sorts of errors and such, so never mind all that.

He had never seen this woman before. It was strange for him to see someone for the first time like this and still feel so strongly that he should know her, that she should be a prominent part of his life, like she could be the mother of his unborn children and the happiness of his retirement years. How do you cope with feelings of that sort when they involve a complete stranger who could so easily slip out of your life and never enter it again. What could he possible do in this situation.
Without much thought he sat down by the window. That way he could watch people walk by while he examined his options and all the while still see her from the corner of his eye. He only realized this once he was already in his seat. It made him think there was some higher being watching out for him, someone who had already designed his life and put him right there, right then, in that seat, close to that woman.
At that moment she stood up and left.
For a split second his whole life seemed to tumble and crash at his feet. Would he ever feel this way about a complete stranger again. Would he ever see her again. The odds were in his favor. Living in a country of only 300.000 people could be a good thing at times like these. Perhaps one day she would come back into the café, order her strawberry kiwi tea and smile at him, where he still sat waiting for her to return. He could picture it, set in another time, 1943 and her red lipstick and pencil skirt. She was probably German, escaping the motherland and its terrors for a more peaceful life by the ocean.
At that moment he realized that what some movies preach, is true; fate only takes you so far.
He stood up from his seat, left 1943 behind him and stepped out of the café and into 2009.
The air was cold, like the air in January should be, but not cold enough to stop him. Rather it gave him that kick he needed to walk at a faster pace and catch up with the goddess of his dreams. He could smell her cent on the wind and got the strange feeling she wore more perfume today on purpose, because she too knew she would meet someone special and wanted him to follow her, to track her down. The thought made him smile, the kind of smile that let everyone know he was on a mission, a mission that would change his whole universe. If his hunt proved successful nothing would ever be the same again, if not, he might as well stop getting out of bed every morning.
She was walking faster than most people would when the sidewalks are icy like they were this day, almost too fast, like a ghost sent to torment him, but with his long legs and healthy lungs he kept up with her, just. Then she entered the library. Why would she pick the library, didn’t she want to talk to him. How were they supposed to have a meaningful first conversation in a place where old women with large glasses sssshush anyone who so much as breathes.
With only one entrance she would have to come back out eventually, so he waited.
Why go in there and risk getting too close, being tempted to humm a love song to her, kiss her when the smell of old books got too overwhelming, kneel to ask her to be his for the rest of his life. No, it would be too much.
So he waited, and he waited, and waited. Did she work in there? she couldn’t possibly be reading for that long could she. Wouldn’t she just borrow the books and read them in the comfort of her own home. She didn’t even seem like the kind of woman who would read books, maybe magazines, and short love stories, but not books.
Finally he broke down, gave in, started moving his feet again and as he did, his heart too started beating faster.
He searched every floor of the library, all the while making sure he kept one eye on the exit to see that she would not escape.
He found her, finally, sitting by a table in the German section of the library. He had known it, he had known she was German and just like that he was back in 1943. She had the pencil skirt on again. It looked like it had been designed just for her, and he enjoyed the design very much. He didn’t realize he was staring at her until she was staring back.
She didn’t smile, which threw him off a bit. Why didn’t she smile? Was she not happy that he had found her?

Hello...what are you staring at?

umm...you...I think, yeah I am pretty sure I am staring at you.

why?

Why lie, when it was obvious he couldn’t possibly make more of an ass of himself than he already had.

Because you are gorgeous. is that ok? can I say that...I think you are gorgeous.

She didn’t look mad, she didn’t look happy either, but not mad. That was a good sign.
He could feel himself being pulled back to reality. Sometimes his imagination got the best of him, sometimes his emotions did too. He usually didn’t feel in control of either one, and if he did feel in control of one, then he definitely didn’t feel in control of the other, never in control of both at once.
She started smiling, but he couldn’t read her smile. Was she mocking him?

Who are you?!

He didn’t feel the need to answer, not yet. The old lady glaring at them from the desk was already forming a shush with her old wrinkled lips.

The silence was obviously too much for her, she gave up on waiting for an answer. Either that, or it was just a rhetorical question and she turned back to her German book. She was reading, it was a real book, no liebe story, no magazine. It was a real book, in German, and thick too. Probably somewhere between 500-600 pages.
Why was she reading that thing?
He sat down facing her. If ever there was a time to be bold, it was now.

What do you want?

She didn’t even look up from her book.

I don’t know, maybe I just want to sit here, is that a crime?

Well, it depends...are you stalking me? I saw you at the café, I saw you through the window, standing out there like a lost puppy, and now you are here.

So, I like to read.

You don’t even have a book.

Well you have enough pages in yours for the both of us! what are you reading anyways?

ohh come on, like you even care!

I care! why wouldn’t I care?!

I don’t know if that is supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy my friend, but if it is, then I am sorry to have to tell you its not working.

ok.

What more could he say. She seemed intent on not liking him. So why try anymore. Now he was free to go back home, get into bed, and never leave it again.
But then his brain, working on overdrive, found something she had said earlier very interesting.

Wait, you said you saw me, you said you saw me at the café, in the street and now here... were you watching me? are you stalking me?!

ohh don’t turn this around on me. I have had plenty of stalkers and I know what to look for when one comes along.

So you were looking for me.

This he said with a smug smile on his face.

wow, do you have any idea how creepy that sounds!

He laughed a little at that, but his laugh was instantly met by a harsh shush from the old lady.




She didn’t think she was particularly good looking, just average. She had gotten used to people telling her she was beautiful, but she never paid their comments much attention. Something in her said they were full of crap. It was all just false flattery and empty words.
For some reason she still attracted guys, not the sort she would like to attract though. She liked them tall dark and handsome, but for some reason, short men seemed attracted to her, short crazy men. By the age of 21 she knew how to spot a stalker on sight. Now, two years later, she was an expert.
This morning at the café when a tall dark and handsome man walked in and her stalker alert went off she had been surprised. This had never happened before, a tall dark and handsome stalker...should she run or embrace this change. It was definitely a step up from the usual stalkers that found their way into her life.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he took a seat by the window, and made note of the fact that he was watching her too.
He was a crazy alright. But maybe in a good way.
Heaven knows she’d been ready for a real relationship for ages, and who wants a boring boyfriend anyways, maybe tall dark handsome and crazy was just what she needed.
One thing was for sure, she was not going to make the first move. Only someone suicidal would make the first move when dealing with a stalker.
So she got up and walked out. It seemed a stupid move to make, who walks out on someone they could potentially end up making out with.
That is where she told herself to stop. It is not healthy to imagine making out with total strangers, especially ones that set her stalker alarm off. Sure, it was fun to imagine, but not smart, not good.
She knew he was following her, she could hear his feet hit the ground as he tried to keep up, and as his pace quickened so did hers.
The library was an easy escape, a great place to hide, and if he dared come in, he wouldn’t be able to start up a conversation with her since the place was overcrowded with old women who love their silence, and were not afraid to enforce it on others.
She walked up to the section with all the short love stories and magazine but there was a large window there, where he would be able to see her. This she knew because she could see him. He stood there on the sidewalk in front of the library, deep in thought, like a lost puppy.
What was he thinking? If he decided to stay there until she had to leave...which she would eventually have to do, then she would never give him a chance. For some reason, a man standing outside a library for six hours waiting to talk to a total stranger was more of a turn off than said man entering the library within a reasonable amount of time and making a move. Either way, he was still crazy, but if he came in and found her, and talked to her, then at least he was crazy in an acceptable way. Was she crazy for thinking like that, like there were degrees of craziness and he would redeem himself if he approached her within six hours, but if he stood outside all day and followed her in silence then he was unacceptably crazy? did that make any sense at all? muh...who cares. He was tall, dark and handsome. Those were some good things to focus on to help her get over the fact that he seemed a tad bit insane.
She walked up to the German section, simply because it was the only place in the library she knew of with no windows. She picked the biggest book out of the shelves and opened it up somewhere in the middle. Who even reads books like these? it must be at least 700 pages, and in German too.
She stared blankly at the open book and tried to understand some of the words on the pages. It was useless, whatever German she still remembered from the two years of German she had taken a couple of years ago was no help here. This was far too advanced for her, but it made no difference, she hadn’t really picked the book because of its fascinating theories and teachings. It was just the biggest book she could find. She didn’t even like to read that much, the occasional short love story and magazines maybe.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his feet hitting the floor, he was coming up the stairs and would find her within the next two minutes. Her heart beat faster, and her palms got clammy.
His footsteps brought him up to the door, where he stopped. She tried her best to keep a straight face even though she could feel a smile was trying to surface, waiting there to welcome this stranger, but she kept it at bay, staring into her book for a while, until she had to look up and see if he was even there or if it had simply been her imagination.

Her imagination rarely took over her sense of reality, which was possibly why she was an expert at picking out stalkers from a crowd, it could also have been the reason she rarely believed the compliments given to her by friends and family members and the occasional crazy stalkers. She liked to be in control, in control of her imagination and of her emotions.
But with tall dark and handsome watching her, she could feel herself lose control, both of her emotions and her imagination.
She imagined him becoming overwhelmed by the smell of old books and for some reason it seemed reasonable that he would as a result grab her and kiss her.
She stopped there, looked up and stared back at him.

Hello...what are you staring at?

It seemed a reasonable question since he had been the one to follow her here and then just stood there and stared.

umm...you...I think, yeah I am pretty sure I am staring at you.

why?

Because you are gorgeous. is that ok? can I say that...I think you are gorgeous.

She had been called pretty, cute, beautiful and although she had never bought it when people told her she was one of those things she couldn’t resist smiling to this handsome crazyman calling her gorgeous, and almost believing he meant it.
But then again, who says that, what kind of a thing is that to say to a total stranger.

Who are you?!

She could see he wasn’t going to answer the question, which was just fine, since it was a rethorical question, or even a comment, rather than a question that required an answer.
He didn’t get scared off easily, just sat down right in front of her and kept staring, as if waiting for a reply to an unanswered question. An old lady was glaring at them both, just about to explode from irritation at the chit chatting in her silent zone.

What do you want?

She didn’t even look up from her book. Afraid she might smile again.

I don’t know, maybe I just want to sit here, is that a crime?

Well, it depends...are you stalking me? I saw you at the café, I saw you through the window, standing out there like a lost puppy, and now you are here.

So, I like to read.

You don’t even have a book.

Well you have enough pages in yours for the both of us! what are you reading anyways?

Who knew, some German book, she didn’t really want to have to explain the whole thing about the book or why she was pretending to read it. That would just make her seem crazy.

ohh come on, like you even care!

I care! why wouldn’t I care?!

He cared! why did that make her feel all warm and fuzzy?....if ever there was a time to ignore your feelings and lie, it was now.

I don’t know if that is supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy my friend, but if it is, then I am sorry to have to tell you its not working.

ok.

He seemed just about to give up and leave, which she hoped desperately he wouldn’t do, because then she would have to turn into the stalker and chase him around. Just as she was starting to think of a plan to keep him there his face lit up, like he had just made some gigantic discovery.

Wait, you said you saw me

This didn’t sound so good....

you said you saw me at the café, in the street and now here... were you watching me? are you stalking me?!

How did he do that? Sure she wanted him to stay, she wanted to get to know him better, but she never wanted to be turned into the stalker in this relationship. She was now certain that if he would not manage to turn her into the stalker, at least she would be pulled down to his level and they would be equally crazy.

ohh don’t turn this around on me. I have had plenty of stalkers and I know what to look for when one comes along.

So you were looking for me.

This he said with a smug smile on his face and she could feel an infestation of butterflies flying around in her stomach.
Denial would be the only escape.

wow, do you have any idea how creepy that sounds!

He laughed a little at that, but his laugh was instantly met by a harsh shush from the old lady. His short lived laughter was enough to seal the deal, she didn’t mind being the crazy anymore.
Crazies attract crazies and then they all just hang out together, so if she was a crazy and he was a crazy and they attracted each other, she was fine with it.

2 comments:

MiriamR said...

Thanks for the fun story Unnur! :)

MoBo said...

hahaha that was an hilarious ol time! I thought it was going to be really creepy one sided stalking, but you gave it the twist of making them both loopy! hahaha Loved it. High FivE!