Day 156
When she wakes up, there are 17 voicemails from a stranger. Yesterday, there were 14. The day before, there were 23. She plays them, one by one. In some, she hears strange, unsettling noises, or a song playing. In others, there is a distorted voice, telling her all sorts of horrifying things. Some of the voicemails are just silence. Besides the voicemails, there are new messages as well, from another new number, different from the one she blocked yesterday, and different from the one she blocked the day before. These messages are graphic, violent, shocking, similar to the ones she always gets, and to the things the distorted voice tells her in the voicemails. Her mind has become numb and her spirit defeated. These messages have installed a fear in her that never goes away, time and time again reminding her that there is someone out there who puts time and energy into making sure she knows how much they long to hurt her. She shudders as she clicks the block button, again. The floor feels cold on her feet and the hunger painful in her stomach. She opens a window, to let in some fresh air, starts getting dressed, and closes her window again. She makes her breakfast and drinks her coffee. This curtains of the large window in the living room are still closed. She opens the front door, looks left and right, before bending over the balcony to examine the street. She sees two of her neighbours chatting in the car park: Jeff and Laura. She knows both them. She takes a deep breath and gets her bag and keys.
When she walks out of the building, she finally sees what her neighbours are chatting about. They are standing next to her car with concerned faces. Jeff crosses his arms. “Good morning, Clara.” He says with serious tone.
“What’s wrong?” Clara speeds up her pace.
“Looks like you’ve got a flat tire.”
“What? No! I have to get to work!”
How could this have happened? Clara kneels down by the side of her car, then gets up and turns to her neighbours, who make haste walk away. “Uh, I have to walk my dog…”
“Yes, I have to go to work.”
“You work from home, Jeff.” Clara mutters to herself.
After being forced to take the bus to work, Clara ignores the complaints about her lateness from her boss, replying with an automated “I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again.” The text and the numbers on the screen of her computer quickly turn blurry as Clara sits down. She is startled by a notification sound on her phone. This time, the message is from someone she knows: her new girlfriend, Christi. “How’s work? Wanna come over tonight?” Clara merely swipes the message away.
She hasn’t told Christi yet, about the stranger leaving her voicemails. They have only been official for about a month, but Clara has been in love with her for much longer than that. Christi’s strawberry-blonde hair, clear green eyes, her sweet, bubbly nature… Though Christi is everything Clara is not, she feels like she’s finally met the right person for her. When she told her best friend Jason this, he responded with “Wow, in love? You’ve never said that about anyone.” Clara had this outer shell, that was hard for anyone to crack. Jason had succeeded when they were in school together, and now Christi has too. Well, for the most part. Except from that one thing that she hasn’t told her yet, that one thing that she has briefly told her dad over the phone, but that only Jason knows everything about.
During her break, Clara goes outside to the smokers area, even though she stopped smoking over two years ago, but she feels a strong need to talk to her friend. “Hey, it’s me.”
“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jason asks.
“Um. I had a flat tire this morning.” If this was anyone else, she would feel so stupid right now.
“Oh, that sucks…”
Clara rubs her eyebrows. “Yeah… I – I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing – “
“Wait, you think someone might have done it on purpose?” Jason asks with a concerned voice.
“Well, I… I don’t know… But if they did – if this was – they know where I live….”
She hears a deep breath on the other side of the line, a deep breath that sounds like it’s inviting her to take a deep breath as well. “Hey, why don’t you come over after work? Then we can talk about it and I’ll drive you home and take a look at your tire.”
“Oh, that would be great, thanks…”
Clara met Jason when they were put in the same class at age 12. They bonded quickly over their shared interests in books and music. A little while later, Jason confessed to Clara that he had a crush on her, but it is safe to say that Jason isn’t exactly… Clara’s type. He was the first person Clara told about her sexuality, and she begged him to remain her friend. She still remembers him telling her that it’s just a silly crush, and that he will get over it. Now, they laugh about it together when they recall childhood memories. “I cannot believe I had a crush on you!” Jason would yell out, with a look of disgust. Clara would then burst out laughing and say: “Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” They would laugh until their stomachs hurt. Both of them had their separate friend groups during their time at school, but these would always fluctuate. The only thing that remained steady, and that has remained steady still, is their friendship with each other.
“Ugh… thanks for inviting me over, I really need this.” Clara says as Jason pours her a glass of red wine. “Is your mom not home?”
“No, she had to work late.”
Jason still lives at home with his mother. She knows a thing or two about Clara’s situation as well, as she gave Jason permission to tell her. After Clara’s own mother passed away a few years ago, she had started to see Jason’s mother Hetty as kind of a second mom, anyways. Clara moves through the living room, and – as she has done many times before – chuckles openly about Jason’s baby pictures on the shelf by the fireplace. Little Jason at the zoo, little Jason with his mother at home… Though he is absent from the photos, the majority of them were taken by Jason’s dad. From what Clara knows, he was a violent man, that Jason hasn’t talked to since he was 10, when his mother had built up the courage to leave him. Jason is an open book about a lot of things, except about his dad, which he has only ever told Clara about. Jason grabs himself a glass of sprite and gestures Clara to sit down on the couch. As she watches the red substance swishing around in her glass, she realises that her hand is shaking. She moves her glass from one hand into the other, while it becomes stickier from her sweaty palms. “Do you… want to talk about it?” Jason asks.
“I mean… I don’t know… Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I guess it just scared me a little bit. That if this is… them… They apparently know where I live, and they have, you know, maybe moved from just messages to… to something more… physical?”
Jason nods. “Hm… yeah, I understand. That… yeah… But, you don’t know it was them. Maybe a teen in the neighbourhood did it as a prank, or you ran over something sharp…” He tilts his head in an attempt to look past the curtain of dark hair that has fall in Clara’s face. Clara nods, he is probably right, she decides.
“Okay.” Jason pats his hands together and wipes his hair out of his face. “Good as new.” He shifts his glance proudly from the changed tire to Clara, who laughs in relief.
“God… Thank you so much.”
Jason’s face turns more serious as he asks: “Will you be okay tonight? I can stay with you, if you’d like?”
Clara frowns in contemplation. “Uh, no, no… It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”
She hates that her sense of safety has been ruined, because she actually prefers being alone. No matter how much she loves Jason, after spending the entire afternoon and evening with him, she longs for a night alone.
“Okay then… Make sure to lock your doors. Oh, and you can always call or text me if you need me.” Jason assures her.
Clara smiles and nods. “I know. I know. Thank you, Jason.”
As he hugs her goodbye Clara smells sweat and rubber. “You need to shower.”
He gently shoves her and laughs.
Before going to bed that night, Clara checks all the locks three times. Then, after she she has already slipped under the sheets, she feels that nagging in her stomach again, to check just one final time.
Day 157
Everyone has their own morning routine, a different answer to the question: What is the first thing you do when you wake up? Some people have breakfast straight away, others just have glass of water and start getting changed. Some brush their teeth first, and some reflect on their dreams in a journal. For Clara, the first part of her morning routine is going through all the texts, walls, and voicemails she received during the night. She detests having to hear and read the same threats and insults over and over again, but she has to make track of them. She takes screenshots, saves audio recordings, all in preparation for the fifth police report. Maybe if it gets bad enough, they will finally do something. But what counts as bad enough?
On her way to work, her phone suddenly starts buzzing. Clara looks at her screen, relieved when she sees it is only her dad. “Hey, Clara, I was just calling to check on you.”
Clara’s mind is preoccupied with other things right now, but she tries to get it together. “Hey, dad. I’m fine, on my way to work.”
“Okay. Okay. I won’t bother you too much then…”
“I’ll call you back, dad.”
She hangs up the phone.
Clara goes to work with her phone on mute. The stalker is less active during the day, but that doesn’t mean that they disappear. Her seat is vacantly occupied until five o’clock, and it is time to go back home again, while constantly looking over her shoulder.
She tries to open the front door, but it seems to be hindered by something. She pushes harder until she is able to step inside, only to see a pile of folded up envelopes lying on the mat. That’s strange, she never gets this much mail… She crouches down and picks up the pile and walks into the living room. Her name and address are written on the envelopes in cursive. She doesn’t know anyone who writes in cursive. As she rips open one of them and pulls out the card, she instantly drops everything to the floor and quickly has to grab onto the table to prevent herself from falling. Inside of the envelope is a printed photo of a knife stuck inside what looks to be an organ of sort. Clara shakes as she gathers herself and picks up the pile. For a moment, she can only sit there, on a chair by the dining table, the pile of envelopes on the table in front of her, with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes closed. She then shoves the photo back into its envelop with half-closed eyes. Instinctively, she picks up her phone and starts rambling. “Hey, Jason, they know where I live, they sent me a bunch of letters…” she Clara can barely contain herself and is interrupted by Jason trying to help her calm down.
“Okay, okay, Clara… I’m so sorry that happened, you must be so scared right now.”
Clara clasps onto her necklace. Jason continues. “Do you want me to come over? Or should I pick you up and we can hang out at mine?”
Clara breathes out, suddenly realising that she had different plans tonight. “Oh, I’m actually seeing Christi, I’m staying at hers, so…”
“Ah, I see.” Jason responds. “Well, are you sure you’re up for that? You can always tell her that something came up?”
Clara shakes her head, forgetting that Jason can’t see that. “Oh, no… No I do really want to see her…Jason, do you think maybe I should… tell her? I have been putting it off, cause I don’t want to worry her or scare her off, but it’s been harder and harder to pretend that everything is fine…” It is quiet for a few seconds on the other line.
“Oh, I mean, you could… But you haven’t been together for that long… It’s your choice, though…”
Clara finishes up her conversation with Jason, packs her bag for overnight, touches up her make up, and heads towards Christi’s apartment.
“What do you wanna watch, babe?” Christi asks as she mindlessly scrolls through Netflix.
Clara shrugs “Oh, anything’s fine…”
Christi softly turns to her, and Clara desperately tries to smile genuinely, but she feels that her eyes are not cooperating.
She can hardly look into Christi’s eyes as she asks her: “Is everything okay, love?”
“Yeah! I’m fine, everything’s fine.” She enlarges her smile once more, but realises that she is probably over-doing it by the creeped-out frown on Christi’s face.
“Are you sure?” Christi asks.
“Yeah, yeah… Sorry, I’m just a bit tired, from work and everything.”
Christi nods “Oh, okay…”
But Clara can tell that she doesn't believe her. There is a building force behind her eyes of tears fighting to come out, but she refuses to let them. How could she even tell Christi this? This relationship is the most real one she’s ever been in. What if telling Christi the truth will ruin that? What is she is not ready to handle it yet? Like Jason said, they haven’t been together for that long.
They knew other well before they started dating, though. Christi’s older brother, Jonah, is one of Clara’s colleagues. Clara didn’t think they were that close, until he invited her to his wedding two and half years ago. That is where Clara first met Christi. They strung up a conversation and hit it off instantly. They were both in relationships at the time, and therefore remained friends. A year later, Christi had ended things with her boyfriend, and Clara had been single and dating around for a few months as well. Christi playfully asked Clara to go out with her, to a date on the beach. Clara was reluctant at first. She liked Christi, but… the beach? All that reminded her off was yelling kids, sand itching everywhere and feeling vulnerable in her bathing suit. Then, Christi specified the time and place, and they had dinner and took an evening walk on a quiet part of the beach, while watching the sunset. Everything felt so normal that evening. As if it should always have been that way. The glistening moonlight on the waves reflected in Christi’s eyes before she leaned in to kiss her. It felt right, but something in Clara was terrified of this new, intense love. She felt more vulnerable than she ever did while dating other people. The fear of her shell breaking down left her feeling naked and uncomfortable. Christi tried to patient with her, but when she got an opportunity for a six month internship abroad, she took it, leaving Clara behind. They texted and called occasionally, but their relationship wasn’t able to move forward quite yet. It was around that time, Clara started receiving a few occasional nasty messages from anonymous Instagram accounts. “Who is this?” She would naively text back, as if they would just reveal their identity to her… Each time she blocked an account, it would be quiet for a week or two, until another one popped up. After about three months of this, she deleted her Instagram account. The messages then continued on Facebook, and then eventually on WhatsApp and over text messages. By the time Christi got back, Clara had started receiving random calls. When she would pick up the phone, it would be completely quiet. When finally met with Christi again, she told her: Clara, I like you. I like you a lot. I think we have something good. But I need to know you are serious with me. So if you want for us to keep seeing each other, I want us to start dating more seriously. If you can’t commit yet, I understand, but then I don’t know if I can keep seeing you. I care about you and I don’t want to rush you, but I also want to protect my own feelings, instead of getting my hopes up and ending up disappointed.”
It was as if Christi clicked the lights switch on in Clara.
Christi followed it up with “You don’t have to say something now, but –“
“Okay, Christi. I am serious with you.” Christi had to laugh at the serious manner in which Clara said this. From that point on, Clara decided she was going to be someone Christi could depend on. She deserved that. That meant, putting off telling her about the stalking until it would eventually stop, or so she thought at the time. But after she started dating Christi officially, the stalking only got tremendously worse.
Day 158
Clara buttons up her white blouse in the morning, slightly wrinkled up from not being folded properly before she put it in her bag yesterday. Outside, it looks wet and misty, making it hard to see the shapes of the houses on the other side of the street, which puts her on edge. Normally, she would stay at Christi’s for a bit longer, but Christi has already promised her bother that she would babysit his son. Clara has met Christi’s nephew before, but doesn’t dare to ask why she can’t just come with her today. Clara kisses Christi goodbye at the door, the smell of her shampoo making her oddly nostalgic. It reminds her of something, until she realises that it reminds her of the previous time she hugged Christi.
Clara holds her breath as she opens the door, but luckily is swings open without anything blocking it. She turns around, and looks outside again. She hates this weather, the mist would make it so much easier to for them to hide… She rapidly slams the door and locks it completely. Without taking off her coat and gloves, she walks to the living room, to the pile that awaits her in the same way she left it. She jumps up slightly when her phone rings. It’s Jason. “Hey, I was just calling to check on you.”
Clara exhales. “Oh, thanks, yeah, I uh… I just got home.” She flips through the unopened envelopes. One of them feels unusually heavy and there seems to be something inside.
“Was everything okay at Christi’s?”
Clara feels at the envelope with her fingers. “Yeah, it was nice…” She sighs. “… but this thing is really starting to get in the way of us, me and Christi. I – I don’t know if I should tell her…” She tries to make out the shape of the little object in her hands.
“Hm… But what if that will get in the way even more?” Jason suggests.
“Yeah… I don’t know.” The shape feels cylindrical, with one sight more pointy than the other. Suddenly her blood runs cold. She swallows and instantly, though carefully, puts down the envelope. “Uh, Jason, on another note. I… about those letters… I have a bad feeling about it and I think one of them has got a bullet in it. I think I should take these to the police.” She rambles.
“Oh shit, yeah okay. Did you touch them? Did you open them?” Jason asks.
“Uh, no, no I – I, well, I only opened two… And I touched them yesterday but I’ve got gloves on now…” She presses between her eyebrows.
“Okay… Yeah, let me pick you up and drive you to the police station.” Jason offers.
“Oh, thank you, but, you really don’t have to do that.” She says, knowing she would probably feel safer if he was there.
“Clara, it’s fine. I don’t have any other plans today. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Sit tight okay?”
In search of distraction, Clara texts Christi. “Hey, babe, just got home! Goodluck today!”
The blue, old carpet on the floor of the police office has been trotted by Clara many times before. The white walls have started to become slightly yellow, yet still feel awfully clinical. She has been here many times before, usually standing with her chest pressed against the front desk and explaining the urgency of her situation with rapid, stern voice. But this time, she is standing about half a meter behind Jason, zoned out, gazing at the point where the floor meets the wall. Jason noticed how worn out she was when he came to pick her up. She was frustrated, angry, and extremely tense, but he urged her to sit down, have a glass of water, and calm down first. “You seem tired, Clara. I can do the talking.” He said, while they were in the car. She thought that perhaps that was better in this instance. She would probably start stumbling over her words if she were to have to explain her case again. She follows the officer and Jason into another room, one with gravelly grey, concrete walls. The temperature immediately drops by a few degrees. “Sit down.” The officer dryly points towards the two chairs on one side of the table with an open hand, holding a folder under his arm. Clara takes a seat besides Jason. She doesn’t always get this far. Usually, she is dismissed immediately at the front desk. She hears the officer ask to retell what happened, she feels Jasons eyes turn towards her and she hears her own voice going over the events of today and yesterday. The officer nods slowly and writes along on his writing pad. He asks to see the letters. Jason grabs them out of his backpack. He has put them in a plastic bag, just in case. The officers thanks him and drags the plastic bag towards himself. “Okay.” He says and sighs, wiping a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “We will, uh… take this to evidence. Thank you for talking to us today… We will make sure to keep you updated on the investigation if there are any updates, but uh, we, we will certainly look into it.” His voice sounds hoarse and monotone and he barely even looks at Clara.
She sits up in her chair. “Will you really?” She says, biting on the inside of her cheek. Jason instinctively places a hand on the back rest of her chair.
The officer already has started to get up. “I assure you.” He says quickly.
Jason clears his voice, and says softly: “I’m sorry, but, this is very serious to us – to Clara.” He glances over at her. “It has been going on for a while, so she would like it to be solved.” Clara stares at the officer, who nods slowly a few times.
“Of course. Of course. I understand. It’s just that we will need definite proof in order to take any actual action.”
Clara scratches between her fingers. “So find the evidence.”
Jason slowly moves closer to her chair, visibly uncomfortable. The officer nods again. Jason softly touches Clara’s elbow, and starts whispering to her. “It’s okay, Clar. I’m sure they will look into it, and if not, we will come back later. You’re tired, let’s just go home.” Her head does feel numb and heavy. She slowly reclines back in her seat and nods. Jason softly smiles. “Okay, okay, let’s go.”
The car ride is dark and quiet. The moonlight is obstructed by a myriad of clouds and the radio softly plays The Smith’s. Clara looks into the car mirrors, seeing her bloodshot eyes surrounded by a frame of darkness. “Hey, I was thinking…” Jason’s voice breaks through the thick silence. “…Maybe you should stay over at mine. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you alone tonight.” He looks at her with worry in his eyes.
She squeezes her lips to the side. “Hm, yeah… I mean… I’d also like to be in my own bed tonight.” She shifts in her seat.
“Then at least let me stay over at yours. Just in case.” Fine. The rain slowly starts trickling down the car window, blurring the street lights into a bright liquid that looks like the city melting in on itself.
At home, Clara throws a spare pillow on her couch and calmly hands Jason an old, brown blanket. He grabs it, after which he just stands there looking at her for a few seconds. “Thanks.” His voice sounds low and monotone, but Clara’s mind is way too busy with other things to wonder if she did something to upset him. Jason sits down on the couch and massages his eyebrows. “Hey, if you want to… I don’t know maybe talk about it? Share that bottle of wine in your cupboard?” He tilts his head to look up at her.
“Um…” Clara looks to the side, spotting the blood-red bottle in her kitchen.
“Or if you don’t feel like talking, that’s fine too.” She looks back at Jason to see that familiar smile on his face. It is that same gummy smile that she has seen many times before, that has made her laugh again and again since they were young teenagers. Only his tired, droopy eyes make it look different today. The small light besides the couch only lights half of his face. “Maybe just one glass…” She says.
“To wind down.” Jason finishes her thought. She nods and starts to move toward the kitchen, until Jason abruptly gets up. “I got it.” He pats her shoulder on his way past her, and gently nudges her towards the couch.
“Christi hasn’t been texting me back. Just leaving me on read.” Clara sits down and examines the frilled edge of her rug.
“Oh, well, maybe she’s busy?”
“Yeah, well she said she’d text me… Ugh, I’m also supposed to call my dad back…” she mumbles. Jason’s hand disrupts her gaze and places down a glass of the red wine on the coffee table. “Oh, yeah?”
“I honestly still don’t really feel like talking to him…”
Jason sits down next to her, turning towards her. “He is trying, though, it seems.”
“Well, he should have tried a long time ago.” Clara takes her first sip.
Day 159
The next morning, Clara doesn’t how she got into her bed, and when she looks at the small wall-clock, she realises it is not morning at all, but ten past one pm. Wow, she must have had a long night sleep. As she slowly sits up right, a sharp sting attacks her temples. A hangover? She can’t remember how much she had to drink yesterday. In any case, she managed to loose most of her clothes before she went to bed last night, as she sees her blouse and her pants spread out over the floor. She feels awfully cold as she removes the blanket from her body, and immediately closes the window and puts on a black tracksuit, after which she still doesn’t feel warm and protected enough, so she covers herself once more in her blue fuzzy bathrobe, and heads downstairs, where she is immediately met with the smell of scrambled eggs and Jason’s cheery, hoarse voice telling her good morning. “Did you sleep well?” he asks. “Yeah… I have a bit of a headache, though.” Clara responds, massaging her neck. “Did I drink much? I don’t really remember.”
Jason looks over his shoulder towards the empty bottle on the counter. “That was mostly you.” He laughs. “I made you eggs on toast.” He proudly presents her a plate.
“Oh… thank you… Thank you… I just, I don’t know- I’m not really that hungry.”
He places it on the table with a fork. “Oh, come on, just at least have some, it’ll be good for you.” Clara sits down at the table and stares at her plate. Jason heads back into the kitchen, before placing a knife right in front of her. “Sorry, forgot the knife.” Clara smiles up at him. “Thanks.” After breakfast, Jason helps Clara do the dishes.
“I feel gross, Jason. I don’t know why I feel so gross.”
He turns to her. “You’ve been through a lot. Plus, you had a bit too much to drink yesterday.” He laughs.
“I think I’m going to go have a shower.” She says, scratching her arm.
Jason nods, “okay, yeah… do you need me to head home, then?”
“No, no, you can stay.” Clara never feels safe while showering. She never really feels safe at all, but the shower makes her feel especially vulnerable, and she can’t really explain why. Perhaps she will feel a little bit safer with Jason in the house.
Clara closes her eyes as she steps under the stream of hot water, which immediately massages her tired scalp and her strained muscles. As she moves her hands over every crevice of her body, she suddenly feels herself tense up and her skin start to crawl. Her breath gets heavier. She grasps her chest. She feels a hand that is not hers reach up her throat, and squeezing down tightly. This happened before. Suddenly, a dream comes back that she had that night. A dream where a person dressed in black stood beside her body, watching over it, while Clara felt a burning sensation as his eyes glided over every inch of her, though she was unable to move or to scream. His fingers felt hot on her cold, bare skin. Then, aggressive, rough, hands, yet still careful, as if trying not to awaken the beast. Whenever a hand had touched her, that place on her body became void, like it was no longer there, no longer hers. In a panic, Clara screams and grabs the hot, wet shower handle. She hears her own shallow, squeaky breath as if from a distance, yet from so close. Her cheeks are warm and wet and her hands shake as she tries to dry herself off. She throws on a bathrobe and rushes to her room, where she sits down on the edge of her bed, burying her head in her hands and her hair leaving drops of water on the floor. She hears rapid footsteps on the stairs, and her only slightly calmed down heart beat start to pick up again, until she hears Jason’s voice. “Clara? Is everything okay?”
She pulls her bathrobe a little tighter. “Yeah…” Her voice breaks.
He peaks his head through the half-opened door. “Hey… what’s wrong?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Sorry, sorry.” Clara grabs on to her upper arms. “I am okay, I just… I think a bad… dream I had last night just… suddenly… came back to me.”
His eyebrows turn into a frown. “Oh?” He says, shifting his weight to his other foot. “What was it about?”
Clara shakes her head vigorously. “I – I don’t want to talk about it.” Jason takes a few steps closer.
“Hey…” he whispers, and sits down on the bed next to her. Clara bursts out in tears.
“I – I, I was just lying in bed and he… touched me… And – and … it hurt. It felt, it felt, felt so real.” Her hiccups disrupt her speech. Jason’s arms feel warm as he embraces her, yet also suffocating. “Please…” she whispers, as she gently pushes his arms away.
“Oh… oh sorry. Hey, Clara… it was just a dream, okay? You’re perfectly safe… You’re safe with me.”
For a moment, they just sit quietly, their shoulders slightly touching one another, Jason continuously glancing over at Clara’s cheeks, to see if they’ve dried already, and Clara staring straight ahead. Her phone is lying on her desk. Last time she checked it, Christi still hadn’t responded to her texts. To change the subject, Clara tells Jason:
“Christi still talking to me…”
He shifts in his place. “Oh? Are you sure nothing happened?”
Clara bites her nails. What did happen? “I’m honestly not sure… I haven’t told her anything about… you know… the stalking… yet. But it’s it – it’s taking over my life to the point where I can’t really be a good partner. So, I don’t thinks she’s been getting anything from me lately…”
Jason slowly nods and only produces a “Hm…” sound.
Clara takes another deep breath. “Look, I know you’ve told me before that I shouldn’t tell her, but don’t you think maybe… at this point… it would be better if I did?”
Jason stays quiet. He nods, slowly, again, without looking Clara in the eye.
“Jason? Do you think I should tell her?” She stares at him.
Jason swallows. “I already did.”
“… What?”
Jason stares at the floor. “Sorry, Clara, I just – I just thought she had to know.”
Clara stands up and raises her voice. “Well, yeah, so did I! You always told me not to tell her!” She feels her flesh heating up. “
I never told you not tell her!” Jason responds. “I always just told you to be careful about it.” He shakes his head.
“What?” Clara looks at him in confusion.
“You’re not always… very…. Tactful…”
Clara stares at her friend, sitting on the edge of the bed. His face bright red and he suddenly looks very small.
“I want you to go, Jason.” She turns her back to him.
“Clara… I’m really sorry… But I just don’t think you should be alone right now. I didn’t mean to – ”
“Well, I don’t care, because I have a relationship to save, okay?”
Jason suddenly stares up at her intensely. His eyes remain angry while his mouth turns into a smirk. “Good luck.”
The house is empty again, and Clara sits on the couch by herself. She quickly put on some clothes and put her hair in a bun. Her phone is blowing up with the same old threatening messages, they are really planning to kill her this time. She blocks yet another number. Tries to call Christi, while her brain is strangling itself up in knots. If Christi knows about the stalker, why is she ignoring her? If Clara found out someone she cared about was being stalked, wouldn’t she be worried? Wouldn’t she check on them? Wouldn’t she want to make sure they were safe? She starts to feel anger bubbling up in her stomach. After the call goes to voicemail, Clara grabs her coat and her car keys.
“Where are you going?” reads another text from a stranger that pops up on Clara’s phone when she gets into the car. She checks all of her mirrors, but sees no movement. For a split second, she considers calling Jason, until she remembers that they’ve just had an argument. But what if – no. She can do this herself.
As she approaches Christi’s building, Clara realises that she might not open the door if she calls downstairs. She needs to get inside the building first. She looks around, and slows down slightly to let the elderly woman ahead of her into the building first, and then quickly goes in after her. As the woman waits for the elevator, Clara casts her a quick smile before taking the stairs. She pushes Christi’s doorbell, instead of knocking on the kitchen window like she normally does. While Clara’s heart beats in her chest, she looks around and below her, examining every angle. The door swings open. “Christi!” Clara exclaims, surprised at the tears that spring into her eyes. Christi sighs. She’s her green, knitted sweater, and the area around her eyes is red. She stands there, looking defeated, not saying anything. Clara lowers her voice this time. “Christi… can I please come in? Can we please just talk?” She still nervously examines her surroundings.
Christi sighs deeply. “I don’t know, Clara… I kind of don’t feel like talking to you right now.”
“I’m so sorry, Christi, I should have told you myself, and – and I was going to…”
“Really? You were going to?”
“Yes!”
“That’s not what Jason said…”
“Listen, I don’t know what he said exactly, but I promise I was going to tell you. I just – I – I didn’t know how and I didn’t want to lose you…”
“You lied to me! From the beginning!” Christi’s voice breaks.
“From the – I … I mean I didn’t… lie… I just didn’t tell you the truth. And – and I should have! But… Christi I don’t understand why you’re ignoring me now, like I get that you’re upset, but I’d think you’d –“
“You really can’t understand why I don’t want to talk to you? And you didn’t just omit the truth, you straight up lied to me. You told me nothing was going on…” Christi now just looks disappointed. Clara falls quiet for a few seconds.
“Okay, well, yeah… I just wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me? What do you even mean? You said you guys were just friends and that you were only into women.”
“Yes, protect y – What?” Clara feels the blood rising to her face and sees the tears come into her girlfriend’s eyes.
“Don’t act stupid, Clara, you did tell me that.”
Clara shakes her head. “What do mean? What are you talking about?”
Christi’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?”
“What did Jason tell you?”
“T – Uh…” Christi exclaims sounds of confusion.
“Christi, what did he tell you?” Clara urged her.
“He told me everything! About you and him! He said he felt guilty towards me, but that you wanted it to remain a secret!”
Clara freezes in her spot. “Christi, that’s not true. There is nothing between us. I never lied about that.” She is trying to grasp what is going on.
“What, so you’re suddenly just outright denying it?” Christi yells.
“Yes! Yes, because I didn’t think that was what he told you, because it is not true!”
Christi sighs. “I can’t believe you…” She slams the door in Clara’s face. Clara’s sight has become blurred when she rushes back down towards her car. Jason doesn’t live that far from here and Clara needs to speak with him. She is desperately hoping it is all one big misunderstanding.
When Clara rings the doorbell of Jason’s house, it is his mother who answers. “Oh, hey Clara! Is everything okay?” Her brown hair is curled beautifully and her cheeks have a rose tint to them.
Clara wipes cheeks and says: “Hi… yeah, yeah, I, uh… I just wanted to talk to Jason.”
“Oh,” Hetty replies, “He actually hasn’t gotten home yet. I thought he’d still be at yours… But perhaps he went to the shops or something… Um, I have to leave in few minutes, I’ve got dinner plans, but you can wait for him inside, if you want? He probably won’t be long.”
“Uh, yeah, okay.” Hetty lets Clara through the door.
“Do you fancy of cup of tea while you wait?” Hetty asks kindly.
“Ah, yes, thank you.” Clara says, though she doesn’t really feel like drinking tea.
“You’re welcome, honey.” Hetty puts the kettle on. When it starts beeping, she pouts Clara a cup of nice, hot tea. “I’d love to sit and chat with you, but I’m kind of in a hurry…”
“Oh, yeah, no, don’t worry.” Clara forcibly chuckles.
“I’ll see you later, then, honey.” Hetty smiles.
“Yeah, thanks for the tea!” Clara says.
With her teacup in hand, Clara heads up into Jason’s room. The window’s are closed, the floor is messy and there is a poignant smell. “God, do you ever clean your room?” Clara mutters as she steps over some clothes to sit down on his gaming chair. Her eyes fall on an old notebook that is laid in the centre of his desk. It looks familiar to her. When they were younger, they would write together in this little notebook during classes, when they weren’t able to talk. Filled with nostalgia, she opens the notebook, flipping through the short conversations. “I’m bored”, “Mr Hendricks looks tired today”, “I can’t wait for this class to be over”. She smiles at the memories, until she is suddenly struck by a change in handwriting. One of the last pages is filled with her own name, and address, written over and over again, in cursive. In confusion, she closes the notebook. She scoots back in the chair a bit, her face stuck in a frown and a sickening feeling building up in her stomach. As she slightly moves her chair back towards the left, the poignant smell gets stronger. She follows the smell towards the garbage bin the in the corner. With the tips of her fingers, she moves some plastic around, until she sees a rotten, bloody mess in the shape of an organ of sort. Clara starts to become dizzy as she tries to get up out of the chair. She has to get out of here. Behind her, the door suddenly busts open. She gasps as Jason says. “I’m home. Mom texted me saying you wanted to talk to me.” Clara stands with her back turned towards the desk, desperately hoping Jason didn’t just see her looking into his garbage bin.
“Jason…” She blinks a few times, trying to enforce a normal expression.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Jason shuts the door behind himself.
“Oh, I, um… It’s… nothing really, I just… I went to see Christi… I just… wanted to clear something up….”
“Hm,” Jason says, “what’s that?”
Clara doesn’t know what to do. It cannot be true, can it? That all along…? “Oh, uh, yeah she… she said something… about… you and I? I don’t know exactly what you told her. It might’ve been a misunderstanding, but she seemed to think that you told her there was something going on between us.” God, why does she always ramble when she’s scared.
Jason frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought you just told her about the stalking, but –“
As she speaks, Clara sees Jason’s hands reaching behind him towards the key in the lock of the door.
“What are you doing?” She says, but Jason stays quiet. He turns the key and pulls it out, locking the door. The key, he stores in the pocket.
“Jason?” He walks closely past her, forcing her to turn around and make space for him. He goes to sit on the chair at his desk, biting his lip, staring at the carpet. He looks behind him, and seems to realise that his notebook has been moved. He frowns, and looks back at Clara, squinting his eyes. Clara gulps.
“Do you remember?” Jason asks, holding up the notebook. “Us, back in school?”
Clara nods.
“Yeah… me too.” He puts the notebook down again.
“Jason?” Clara asks, calmly, even though she’s feeling everything but calm. She doesn’t even have the capability to ask him the question outright.
“You read ahead, didn’t you?” He asks, leaning forward in his chair.
Clara doesn’t respond. Her chest starts heaving up and down. She can only shake her head, and then manages to whisper: “Tell me it isn’t true…”
Jason sighs sharply. “Sorry to disappoint.” He says cynically.
Clara head now really starts to toil. She grabs onto her chest, as if trying to grasp the air that is hardly able to enter her body. “Oh God… Oh God, oh God.” She takes a few steps back, holding onto a shelf as not to collapse. She needs to get away, but is stopped when her back hits the locked door.
“I only did it, Clara… because I love you.” Jason says and smiles. He gets up from his chair, triggering Clara to push herself even harder against the door. But he walks past her towards the window, shaking his head. “I’m sorry…”
Clara sputters. “W- Well I, I love you too, Jason, you’re my best friend.”
Jason chuckles and turns towards her again. “That’s not what I mean. You know that is not what I mean…” He sighs as he stares at her. “Ever since that first day I met you… I knew that you were the one. You’re everything I ever wanted. Beautiful, quiet yet strong-willed. You always liked being by yourself, it was my deepest desire to be that one person who you wanted to have around.” He smiles painstakingly.
“Y-you kind of are…” Clara shrugs softly.
“But I’m not, am I? Cause now you’ve got Christi?” His smile turns angry, and Clara tries to make herself small. He then turns away from her and to the window again. “I mean, I was bitter the first time you rejected me, of course… I had already decided that you were mine, but you just… didn’t see that? But I thought, you know, I would still be your friend, until someday you would get over your little lesbian phase and realise that you are supposed to be with me.” He leant against the window frame, while Clara remains frozen in her spot against the door. “I waited… and I waited, while you dated other people. Every time I was there for you to be a listening ear for all your stories of sleeping with other people, while – while the jealousy grew and grew with every single partner.” His dark eyes fill rage as he recalls it. “But I still thought: you know, none of this is serious. You were just dating – sleeping around with all these girls. I knew that at some point you’d realise that you just hadn’t been with the right man yet…” He smiles, then turns around and gazes outside the window. “… and that someday, you would agree to sleep with me. I mean, you slept with all these people…”
Clara feels like she’s about to be sick. “Women.” She corrects him.
Jason chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, your standards weren’t that high…” Clara bites her tongue as Jason continues. “But then… then you met Christi… and suddenly you weren’t talking to me about all these different, exciting adventures with all these different people…” he says mockingly, “you were talking about… about… love.” The small part of his face Clara can see reveals a look of deep disgust. “That was… that was just too much. You had gone too far. I hated having to listen to you talk about… supposedly… being in love…. With someone else.”
Clara shakes the brooding feelings of guilt out of her head. “So you… So you started stalking me?” She asks softly.
Jason now completely turns his back on Clara. “I – I just – I just had all this… this built up anger towards you, that… that I couldn’t let out. I had to put it somewhere, and I mean, I’m sorry for scaring you, but I – I’d never actually hurt you.”
Then why had he locked the door? As Clara forced herself to start thinking a bit more clearly, she remembers putting some bobby pins in her hair earlier, to keep her bun in place. She slowly moves her hand up from her chest to her shoulder, towards her head.
Jason continues talking. “I just thought… That if you saw those messages… You’d maybe feel even a fraction of the pain I have felt all these past years…”
There, she’s got a hold of one. She folds her hand over it and slowly brings it down. “And the letters…”
Jason briefly looks towards her, his posture and expression going from emotional to cold. “Yeah, sorry that scared you…” As he looks back out the window, Clara slowly moves her hand with the bobby pin up towards the lock. Jason continues. “I just thought I might use the situation to… I – I thought it could help us bring us closer together.” Clara tries to move the bobby pin around in the lock. Does this actually work? She has only seen this in movies. She wiggles it a bit, until Jason suddenly turns back around. Clara drops her hand down, leaving the bobby pin in the lock. Her heart feels like it’s about to jump out of her chest. Jason starts walking through his room. “You know, I thought that if you saw that I – that I was there for you, maybe…maybe you’d finally see who has been there for you all these years...” He stops at his desk, and chuckles while looking at the notebook. Quickly, Clara starts twisting the bobby pin again. “The bullet was real, if you were wondering.” Clara’s breath quickens and her eyes tingle. She keeps twisting, and tweaking, and twisting, until she finally feels a click. She only has a split second to decide. If she runs now, Jason will come after her, and he might be faster. In the corner of her eye, she spots a large, thick book with a hard cover. She grabs it off of the shelf, having no time to feel how heavy it is. Then, without hesitation – because there is no time for hesitation – she whacks Jason over the head with the heavy object. She doesn’t have time to watch him collapse, and so opens the door and rushes downstairs. She hears stumbling behind her, uncertain whether it is Jason falling of Jason getting up. She doesn’t have the time to look back. The tears are rushing down her cheeks as she runs. She can only run. She doesn’t stop running when her lungs start feeling like they’re on fire. She can never stop running.
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