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Look over your shoulder.
You, the reader. Look over your shoulder now.
Doesn't it ever occur to you that there may be someone there, watching your every move? Stalking you? Someone who is willing to intrude into your private property to follow you, to gain insights into your personal life? It is somebody you know, who is close to you. Who has become obsessed. Who has become willing to intrude into your personal space, secretly. Who wants to have you, to own you. Who will do anything to get you. Anything. And who is spying on you hungrily right now.
Don't be afraid. Fear is living for the future. You must live for the present. Take advantage of each second as if it were your last, until it is your last. Save your fear until your stalker has captured your body and starts wanting your soul. You will be afraid when your stalker is trying to break your spirit, torturing you, taking pleasure in your screams of agony as he punctures your skin, laughing as he breaks your bones and slices you so your precious insides can leak out.
But then, of course, the opposite may be true. Maybe nobody cares. It could be that you are completely alone - you will never find love or trust, because everyone is fighting their own battles. No-one wants to know about you. It could be that sometimes you wish you did have your own stalker, noting down your every move, desiring you absolutely. You wish that someone would notice you. You know that whatever you do, it will all be forgotten a generation after you die - so that you are completely insignificant. You spend your whole wasted life craving for someone to need you.
Have you ever felt like killing yourself? Have you ever realised the futility of life to the point where you want to end all the useless suffering? You could make it look like an accident. Roll a tennis ball underneath the brake pedal of your car, then everyone will assume it was a tragic mishap that prevented you from being able to stop for the wall. You will hit the wall and your vision will go white with pain as you feel your blood ebbing away; and you will doubt. You will wonder if you made the right decision. You will panic, trying desperately to hold on to life, but you will know that it is too late. That your precious insides will leak out. You will get a sense of finality, a terminal eternity. And you will die weeping with self-pity.
Of course, it may be your stalker who rolls the tennis ball under your brake pedal, or puts the worms in your apple, or leaves the spiders in your bed. Your stalker might decide to disembowel your children or your pets, or your neighbour, and leave the remnants on your porch to give you nightmares for as long as you live. There are so many ways to upset the fragile balance of your life, to pop the bubble of comfort that you have built for yourself which allows you to forget that elsewhere in the world people are starving while you are eating the food that they grew.
Unless you are the stalker. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine choosing a target and then following that person's every move? Watching every detail of their day to day existence until you had an unobstructed picture of their life? Then you will realise that your target is essentially the same as you. The same hopes, fears, insecurities, private eccentricities... It will disappoint you. You will want to dig deeper. You will want to capture that person, so they are always available for questioning, for exploring, for experimenting.
It would be fun. Admit it. It would give you a purpose in life. It would make that person feel special. They would never feel alone again. And you would finally be able to break free from your restrictive bubble of comfort; you would be able to experience the power of being in full control of your life. And in full control of somebody else's. The ultimate satisfaction.
Then again, maybe I'm the stalker. Trying to corrupt you, to depress you and then fill your head with dark, tempting images. Trying to control you. I'm not asking you to suspend your disbelief - you don't need to. You know that this is all true. You understand my message, and you accept it. You know the way to fulfilment, but you cannot break free from your self-inflicted bubble, which only allows you to see within yourself and your own surroundings. You know that I am watching your every move. Can you hear me?
I will be your victim.
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