AURELIA
My walk home felt unbelievably long. I saw his silhouette in every dark alley, a phantom that confirmed that I must be crazily hallucinating. And his last words still lingering in my mind.
Like what the hell does that mean?! I am not letting him have power over me!
The sun dipped below the horizon. It's orange light flickering as it spreads across the sky, casting an ethereal glow. The thought of that scary man with amber eyes, who is looking like he stepped right out of my book, forgotten for a while. I've always been a nature lover and watching the sunset is always one of my favorite.
My phone rang and I jolted back to reality, my heart hammering against my chest. The thoughts of that man, resurfacing in my brain.
Calm down, calm down. I checked the caller ID. Freya, my best friend.
It's just Freya, it's just Freya. I tried calming my racing heart.
"Hello?" my voice was shakier than intended and I blamed that man for scaring the life out of me.
"Book girlie!!!" I heard her scream. I had to move the phone away from my ear before she busy my ear drum.
"Freya!! How're you doing?!" I reciprocated but my eyes were warily darting here and there. A girl can never be too careful. He might suddenly appear before me and scare me again.
"I'm good, just wanna check up on ya! How's the book?" She asked, her words rushed. I smiled tiredly.
"Stuck in chapter 35"
"You need a break to clear off your mind. Remember you said you'll publish it before your next birthday which is..."
"In two months" I took the words out of her mouth.
"Freyaaaa!!!" I heard a distant voice calling her.
"Coming!!" She yelled and then back to me. "I gotta go, Relia"
She ended the call before I could reply. I sighed and shove the phone bag to my tote bag. The neighborhood is quiet, save for the old man watering his plant three houses away. I shuffled through my bag and got hold of my key.
"Home sweet home!" I exclaimed as I walked in, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender, coffee, books and something else- Me.
I moved to the Crossville neighborhood alone three years ago to pursue my writing career. It was just an excuse to run away from home. But after I published my debut novel, my career hit off and I fell in love with this city.
My neighborhood? Perfect!
It's quiet, clean and a remote- perfect for someone who loves nature.
I actually spent five months trying to secure a house in this neighborhood but it's worth it.
Luckily for me, the owner's girlfriend happened to be my fan. She was there at my book signing and we became friends. She'd pestered her boyfriend to gift the house to me. Yes, gift.
Since the house is officially mine, I set it up to my taste.
Purple couches dotted in the living room, a kitchen, bathroom, study room, bedroom and a yard. Epic for a singleton!
My home, my sanctuary, my safety. Behind these four walls, I'm secluded from the outside world. No one could get me, I am protected. At least, that's the lie I always tell myself.
I dumped my bag on the kitchen counter and took a bottle of water from the fridge when my phone vibrated and pinged, indicating a notification.
Walking back to the counter, I picked up the phone. It was an email. The sender is a bunch of numbers and weird symbols. No subject, just a single document attached. A picture.
What could it be? A fan? A newsletter? My fingers hovered over the screen waiting for the picture to fully download.
A character inspiration? I thought as I noticed the blurry details of curly black hair and brown skin. My heart stuttered for an entirely different reason.
I waited, one beat, then two. Until the picture fully loaded.
Oh no.. it can't be...no...way
I let out a shaky breath as I stared at the picture, wide-eyed.
It was a picture of me. Me
A view from the window of the bookstore. The golden sun slanted through the glass and illuminated the side of my face, giving me an indescribable beautiful golden gloss. My head was bent reading Haunting Adeline with full focus. An unconscious smile was planted on my lips. I looked relaxed. Unaware.
The picture was taken with professionalism that is both breathtaking and terrifying at the same time and right now, I am terrified.
I have a stalker. A stalker. A real one. Not fictional. Not the ones in my book.
Real.
Alive.
Watchingme.
I was still dazed by the mail when another message from an unknown number popped up on the screen.
I froze. No, my soul left my body for a moment. Two sentences and my blood ran dry. This can't be happening.
"Your books are intriguing, Little Writer. It makes me want to edit your manuscript "
I haven't recovered from the shock and another message pinged, yet again from same unknown number.
"Like my masterpiece? The things I'm interested in look the most gorgeous in pictures"