Stockholm || h.s

2

"Brooke I'm telling you the truth!" I shout into my phone, "He stalked me home and like a creep, breathed on my door!"

I heard her stop laughing.

"What do you mean he breathed on your door?" She questioned with some fright in her voice.

I placed the phone on the other side and let it rest on my shoulder while I fix my self breakfast.

"Like, I woke up and saw fog on the glass and someone drew a heart on it..." I said with confusion.

She asked if he did anything else, "Before that he just ran after me and just stood in the middle of the road."

I took a brown wooden spoon out of a drawer and finished scrambling the yellow eggs.

Brooke cleared her throat as if something caught her tongue. "That sounds too similar to a story I've read about a month ago. I'm gonna send you the link now."

She always wanted to be a reporter or a columnist for a newspaper. So, she constantly reads articles, listens to the radio or watches the news. Trying to gain skill and knowledge from other writers.

I put my phone on speaker and laid it on the countertop. Opening the link from iMessage, it takes me to an online news article,

"A police report has been released stating that they can now confirm that the recent reported stalkings in New Jersey are linked together, indicating a single person is responsible.

When Officer Tindol was asked about the case, he stated, "We can't release [any further information] right now, but we do have a few suspects."

Some believe it to be the work of a serial stalker known to the public as the Broken Hearts Stalker -because he often drew hearts with a slash through them in different areas of the victims houses - however, the case seems to have gone cold, as no other sightings have been reported for a month. The exact identity of Broken Hearts Stalker is still unknown, as is his connection to these victims."

I wore a puzzled expression as I closed the app. Could my situation be related to this one? That stalker does broken hearts, but the heart on my window wasn't broken. I told Brooke what I was thinking.

"I don't know Brooke..." I trailed off, "they do sound similar but the heart wasn't broken on mine."

I nervously fiddled with my fingers, carelessly nibbling on the nails.

"Well maybe your his special one!" She bursts out laughing like this is a joke. I try my best to laugh along with her, "Let's hope not."

We briefly caught up with each other while I finished my breakfast. As we said our goodbyes, I looked at the time as realized I was almost running late to work.

I quickly put the dirty dishes in the sink, not caring if I would wash them later. Thank God I was already dressed. I went to the livin room and grabbed my purse off the couch. Swinging the strap over my head, I stood still trying to see if I was forgetting anything.

"Aha!" I said with a grin.

I went back to my kitchen and opened the cabinets looking for the pepper spray. Once I found the small black bottle, I stuffed it in my purse and pulled out my house keys. I was weary as soon as I stepped off my porch. Still reminiscing the events from last night. Looking from left to right, I crossed the street to head towards my job. Maybe I should take another route.

And so I did.

---

The bakeries air immediately fills you up with the sickly sweet smell of cooking cupcakes, crisping croissants, and the distinct aroma of globby breakfast paste turning into a delicious tray of hot oatmeal cookies.