Chapter 2

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"I am...your stalker." Jennie jumps up from her bed, breathing hard. She pictures the doe eyes shining in the dark, the voice of the figure as vulnerable as it can get. Was it all a dream?

She looks at her bedside table, a lone page sticking out of her diary. Jennie remembers how her legs were aching while she had ripped that paper out while trying to note down the exact time of her findings yesterday. It wasn't a dream. Jennie has a stalker.

She's not sure what to do with that piece of information. She wasn't sure yesterday either, given she had stormed out of the alley wordlessly after her stalker had confessed of her identity to her. Even so, she realizes, she didn't get her stalker's name. Somehow this thought of hers had lingered, snuck its way into her dream and now, as she stirs her coffee way too much in thoughtfulness, it's still on her mind.

Jennie doesn't understand. For one, she doesn't know why she has a stalker in the first place. It's not like she's excessively pretty or something. But then is that what her stalker wants? What do stalkers want in general? Jennie's mind races with questions she'd ask the stalker if she were here in front of her. But that would be very weird. She shakes off the matter with an uneasy shiver when she realizes her stalker has been watching her every move since the last month. Then she wonders if she'll continue doing so, but then shuts her brain down completely, not wanting to work herself up anymore. She has a busy day ahead.






Jennie does a double-take. There's no way her stalker is here again. But she clearly is as the cashier hands Jennie her groceries, muttering something along the lines of, "have a good night" and Jennie bolts outside, almost forgetting to say her thanks.

Her stalker's mask has changed and the cap on her head is lowered to shadow her eyes today. Jennie scoffs, approaching her.

"You really think changing your stupid mask is going to fool me? Do you take me for an idiot?" Jennie bites out, watching the other's eyes widen and dart nervously around.

"Sorry." The latter squeaks out, her gaze lowering to the ground.

"You know that I could totally call the police right now." Jennie says hotly, her stalker's head snapping up.

"Don't-" the masked girl groans. "Please don't do that."

Jennie frowns deeper. Why the hell is this stalker so... sweet?

"Why the hell aren't you a narcissistic psycho?" Jennie asks before she can stop herself. Great, she's talking to her stalker. Actually initiating conversation. So much for not being a fucking idiot.

Her stalker is caught off-guard.

"Because...I'm not. Did you think I'd be? Oh, yeah. Right. Stalkers in general are like that, yeah." She sputters and Jennie has to try hard to suppress her amusement.

"Listen..." Jennie clears her throat to make her voice firmer. Why the fuck did that come out so soft? "Stop following me around and you'll save yourself some jail-time."

"Maybe then I'll be able to stop following you." Her stalker says quietly, her eyes dimming and falling to the floor.

"What?" Jennie asks in utter confusion.

"I won't be able to see you if I'm locked up in jail. In all other cases..." The girl sighs heavily, "I can't stop myself. I want to see you, I resist, but then I give in. It's...compelling. The weekends are hell."

Jennie's eyes widen in disbelief.

"The audacity." She breathes out, her intense gaze locking with her stalker's timid eyes and she suddenly feels guilty. Guilty? She has nothing to be guilty about.

"I'm not proud of it. I hate it, actually." She feels sorry now. Great. Just great.

"Well you shouldn't be. You should." Jennie says with mock apathy.

"Hmm...we agree on something, at least." Her stalker says seriously although the statement could easily pass as a joke. A bad joke, Jennie thinks angrily.

"You need help." She grits her teeth in irritation, watching her stalker's eyes fall to her jaw. The hazel orbs darken for a second before lowering to the ground. It takes Jennie's breath away. "But that's not my problem." She says, angry at how breathless she feels.

And just like yesterday, she bolts. Doesn't look back although she feels eyes behind her back. Hates it when they don't feel creepy. They're soft. Jennie knows to brush it off.

Your Stalker // jenlisaWhere stories live. Discover now