"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.
It's warm inside. It also smells like yeast, cinnamon, frying fat, and coffee. The early morning light slants through the windows. I know some of the custumers that come here regularly. I greet and escort them to their usual table. I go to the back of the cashier area, waiting for the next person to come in. I lean against the table and look at the glass cases in front of me. There are bagels in shiny layered rows, topped with seeds and onions. In the glass case, sugar sparkles like snow on the cinnamon twists, jelly donuts gleam in their translucent icing. Brown bread, in big round loaves, puts forth it's aroma of wholesome goodness. The barrel in the corner holds the slim baguettes, each with it's crinkly, brown paper coat. I sometimes sneak and eat a couple croissants during my shift.
I started to doodle on my notepad, getting bored. My drawings overlapped my previous writings of orders. The writings becoming incomprehensible. A door chime rang and I snapped my head up. A man came in wearing a black thick coat, black pants, shoes, and a black raybans. He seems to overly like black.
I came around the counter and started to walk towards the customer. He leaned his head forward and back almost as if he was looking for someone.
"Are you waiting for someone, sir?" I questioned with a smile on my face.
His head quickly looked towards me and slowly shook his head. He licked his bottom lip before speaking, "No, not anymore."
"Okay well, where would you like to sit this morning?" I asked trying not to seem awkward.
He motioned his head to the far window. I asked him to follow me and I walked him over to his seat. He sat down and took off his coat, placing it behind his chair.
"Could I start you with anything?" I removed the pen from the top of my ear and placed it in the corner of my lips. He looked down at the menu, "A black coffee." He said bluntly.
I wrote it down in my small notepad and drew a line under the words. I briefly looked up and I was immediately met with his gaze. His head was tilted down, so he could see me from above his sunglasses.
His eyes were green. The kind of green that pushed its way through the piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring was coming. The kind of green that budded on the prisoners of winter, bringing life back to their branches. That churning, passionate green that the ocean turns during a storm. That colour of the forest after it rains. The colour of the tadpoles making ripples in the pond. That green colour that also brings darkness and mystery. And looking into those eyes, I could see it. And he knew that I could.
So, he quickly pushed his glasses back up.
I cleared my throat and put my notepad in my apron pocket. I mumbled a 'sorry' and stepped away from him. I went back to the cashier and told her the new order. She nodded and walked over to the coffee machine, pressing a few buttons and soon after the black liquid spilled out the nozzle.
I leaned on the counter to rest, taking in the smell of the donuts again. I heard a soft thump infront me. The cashier put the coffee down, "You know that guy is staring a hole through your head right now."
I furrowed my brows and looked at his direction. He was looking out the window instead. The cashier shrugged her shoulders. I grabbed the warm cup and placed the white plastic lid on top of it. I walked to his table and placed it in the center of the table.
"Thank you, doll."
I nervously blushed at his words.
"Your welc-" He cut me off, " Could I actually get your number?"
I raised my eyebrows in shock. I unconsciously put my pen back in my mouth trying to make a decision. He was pretty cute.
"Fuck it, sure." I said suddenly confident.
He crossed his legs and licked his lips. Almost as if he liked me cursing? I ignore it and rip out a empty page from my notepad. I scribbled down my number.
"Ivy! I need you to deliver this a couple doors down!" The cashier shouted at my direction. I quickly look up and yelled back, telling her I'll go. I slid the stranger the paper and pushed my pen in my apron before taking it off and putting it on the counter.
-
(THIRD PERSON)
As soon as he heard the door chime close shut, he folded the paper and stuffed it in his pants pocket. He smiled rethinking her name, Ivy. It was finally nice to know her name. She was so beautiful to him.
Her blonde hair framed her face. Each strand like a separate, shining ray of the sun. It glistened and danced in the breeze everytime the bakery door would open. Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate edged with a deep forest-green. Sometimes the two colors seemed to swirl together like moss creeping over rich soil. And when she smiled both colors ignited with a glow dazzling him with the warmth of the deep brown and the seductive green dancing around its edge.
She curved in an hour glass figure, and was tall and slim. Her smile was like no other, and had soft plump pink lips. Her voice like a beautiful song, that you never wanted to end. It rung through his ears, making the hairs on his neck stand up. She was like a goddess of true and natural beauty. She was kind and calm. Soft spoken and gentle. Oh how he wanted to ruin that. It was like an urge.
When no one was looking, he stood up from his chair and walked quietly to the counter. The cashier went to the back, seeing how no one was ordering.
This was his chance.
He pulled out the blue pen from Ivy's apron and slightly brushed his fingertip on the top of the pen. His skin instantly felt the wet liquid that was left by Ivy just moments before.
Looking around once again, he turned his back from the other few customers and dipped the pen into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the top of the pen, wanting to suck off Ivy's remnants. He moaned at the memory of her lips on the pen.
The man removed the item from his mouth and put it along with the note paper. He thought of how easy it was to get things from her. He smiled devishly and put his coat back on.
He walked out the bakery, and saw Ivy walking and waiting for the light to turn green.
Before he could be seen, he ducked behind a tree and watched her cross the street. She wore a smile on her face as she gracefully walked past him, not seeing him.
He sighed out thankfully, "I'll see you soon, my love."
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