More Than Coffee

TRIGGER WARNING this story contains the following: stalking, violence, life or death situations. PLEASE BE ADVISED

An eerie silence settles upon my apartment in a feeble attempt to conceal a grisly scene and an even uglier truth. My arm—heavy with the weight of still being alive when I shouldn't be—slowly makes its way to my abdomen before falling limply at my side. A warmth is creeping across my chest and dripping onto the floor. The warm liquid has to be blood. This is the second time he has ruined my shirt.

The first one was a t-shirt from high school. It had a hole towards the bottom of it and one could say it was a little rough around the edges, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it out. That was until I met him. He had been wearing a dark jacket and jeans. He quite literally ran into me and spilled his coffee all over the front of my shirt. He apologized profusely and wanted to make it up to me, but I declined. After all, it was only coffee.

The warmth is beginning to fade away. He left the window open when he made his way down the fire escape. The cool New York air is swirling into my room and settling into my bones. My teeth start to chatter and I shiver slightly. I'm not sure if it’s from the shock or the cold. His gaze had been so cold. Too cold for someone who is as angry as he is.

A few weeks after the coffee incident, I felt like someone was watching me on my way to work. A man in a dark jacket followed me for several blocks before abruptly veering down a side street. He was a grim reaper waiting in the shadows and I was the unsuspecting target. I thought it had just been a little bit of coffee. 

The paranoia really started to consume my every thought when bouquets of flowers and love letters started showing up on my doorstep. I knew that he had followed me home. One of his letters included the following: "My dearest Veronica, I so love the way you look for me always. It is quite touching to say the least. The fearful look in your eyes entices me in a way like nothing I have ever known. I do hope that we can be in touch soon. Maybe we can grab some coffee. By the way, you look tired." 

It was at this point that I went to the police. In a shaky voice I told an officer everything and I dumped all of the letters on his desk. He did not even bother to look at them. He pushed them away from his keyboard and seemed indifferent.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do!? This man is going to hurt me! Can't you see?" I explained as tears welled up in my eyes. I pushed the letters closer to him in a desperate attempt to convince him to help me. He glanced at them before looking back at me.

"Has this man harmed you?"

"No, b—"

"Then a crime hasn't been committed. Besides, you said the man that followed you stopped and all of these love letters are probably from an ex-boyfriend who hasn't gotten over you. I'm sure it is just a coincidence." The officer started shuffling all of the letters into a pile and handed them back to me.

My breathing is becoming shallow and slow. I move my arms around my body trying to find my phone, but to no avail. I don’t even know where it is. I’m always losing it.

“You don’t understand he was wearing the same jacket! It is not a coincidence. The letters are not from an ex-boyfriend. Please, listen to me. I—”

“Ma’am, you need to calm down. It was just a jacket. There isn’t any solid evidence to prove that he is stalking you. You don’t even know his name.”

I can hear footsteps in the hallway. They sound like they are coming towards my door. My heart is pounding in my ears. 

I knew that it wasn’t just a jacket and I knew that I had to leave. I didn’t know what he was capable of and the police were not going to help me. I moved three towns over and tried to start fresh. I was always looking over my shoulder and the fear that had settled in the pit of my stomach never quite found its way to the light, even when there wasn’t any sign of him for weeks. Deep down, I think a part of me knew that he wouldn’t leave me alone, but I never expected things to get worse.  

I can hear someone talking outside my door. My eyes are threatening to close.  

I came home to my new apartment to find a decapitated teddy bear with a note from him that read: “My dearest little angel, why have you done this to us? Remember, you left me no choice.”

I glance towards the door and I see a shadow moving through the thin blanket of light shining under it.

I went straight to the police station with the teddy bear in hand. I handed it to an officer named Clark and told him everything that had happened. I held a little hope in my heart that they would help me. This was a different town with a different officer and it was obvious that my stalker had followed me here. That had to be some sort of crime. 

“Listen, if we could find out the identity of this man, then we could file a restraining order. I know it isn’t much, but it’s something and it’s the best that I can do right now.” 

It wasn’t what I had been looking for, but it was something. I flashed Clark a grateful smile. “So, how do we find out who this man is?”

“You leave that to me.” The corner of his lips raised up in a small smile that had been weathered down by all of the atrocities he had seen during his career. 

Later on, Clark told me that he had seen cases like this a bunch of times. He said that one had to get into the stalker’s head to find him. I got the feeling that Clark wasn’t exactly a by-the-book type of guy.

My strength continues to wane. I try to yell, but my voice is strangled and quiet. My mouth is dry. I hear a familiar sound, or I think I hear it, anyway. I start hitting the floor with my hands, trying to bring attention to myself.

Clark discovered that it was a man named Alan. He had a domestic violence rap sheet longer than my employment record, which was quite a long list. With Clark’s help, I was able to get a restraining order against Alan and that kept him away from me for a while. 

However, I think Alan took the restraining order as a sign of rejection. It opened a door to a world of violence. His infatuation with me morphed into an anger as loud and powerful as a hurricane. Alan started leaving photos of me on my doorstep. He always scribbled out my face. I wished that I would’ve taken a different way home and never ran into him. It wasn’t just a little bit of coffee. I wish it had been.

I can hear Yoshi’s tail hitting my door and my neighbor, Emily, desperately trying to get him to listen. She is home early.

I had taken the photos to Officer Clark. It was obvious that Alan had violated the restraining order. Clark said he would bring Alan in and handle it. However, Officer Clark couldn’t find Alan. It appeared as if he had skipped town. I knew that wasn’t true. I knew that he wouldn’t give up that easily. 

I keep hitting the floor with my hands, hoping that Emily will hear it. My door isn’t even closed all of the way. Alan had broken in and I don’t think it will shut anymore. I can’t shut my eyes. I can’t let him win.

Alan had memorized everything about my life and he knew when I would be alone. He wanted it that way. 

I hear the unmistakable creak from the front door and Yoshi runs over to me. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. 

I had been sitting on the couch when Alan started pounding on my door. My breathing quickened and I couldn’t stop staring at the door handle. He was jiggling it relentlessly. I was a statue that was doomed to face this storm. 

I tried to call 911, but I didn’t get the chance. I dropped my phone when the door started to give out.

Emily is by my side now. She is frantically trying to help me.

“My p—phone is by t—the couch.”

“Shhh…... don’t talk. I’m here and help is on the way.”

I shift my gaze to Emily. The lights are casting a soft glow on her face. She looks almost angelic. Her red hair resembles fire. It reminds me of summers with my grandparents in Ohio. 

Yoshi is licking my hands and whining. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really like him before today. It feels like I have been here for hours, but I know it has only been a few minutes. My eyes close.

The door splintered and Alan rushed into the room. I tried to run, but he was faster. He grabbed my hair and pulled me into his chest. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth. He was holding me too tightly. 

My chest feels tight and my blood continues to spill onto the floor. 

I bit his hand and that made him even angrier. He shoved me to the ground. 

I can’t see anything, but I can hear people around me and I can feel them trying to stop the bleeding. 

I screamed and kicked him in the knee. He fell to the floor. I tried to get up, but he grabbed my ankle and dragged me back to him. I desperately clawed at the floor, trying to get away. 

I’m not in my apartment anymore. There is a bright light above me and an annoying beeping sound. 

“We are en route with a twenty-four year old female with multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen…”

“Her pressure is dropping. Markus, step on it!”

Markus was a seasoned paramedic. He knew it was bad. She didn’t have a good chance at survival. He also knew that Harris wouldn’t give up. She looked too much like his daughter. She was a few years older, but it didn’t matter. 

“I can’t find a pulse. Dammit! I’m starting CPR.” 

I couldn’t get away. He was stronger than I was. He held my hands above my head and slapped me. 

“You made me do this. It is all your fault! Stop trying to get away from me!”

I didn’t say anything. Tears sprang to my eyes and I cried silently. 

“Stop crying!”

I didn’t. I don’t think I could have even if I tried to.

“You leave me no choice.”

His expression changed. The coldness of his gaze melted away and was replaced by an uncontrollable fury. I’m not sure where he got the knife from. Fear consumed my body at the sight of it. He raised it in the air.

“I have a pulse.”

Harris didn’t know why he cared so much. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to get his emotions involved, but he couldn’t help it. He reached down and grabbed her hand. 

The fear was gone.

~

I slowly open my eyes. I don’t know where I am. I blink and try to shield my eyes with my hand. It’s too bright and it smells sterile. There is a tube attached to my hand and I see movement out of the corner of my eye. 

Officer Clark walks over to me and offers me a small smile.

“We arrested Alan a few moments ago. The security cameras caught him entering the building at the time of the attack. We haven’t found the knife, but we are looking. We might need you to testify at the trial. Do you think you will be able to do that?”

I swallow before slowly nodding. 

“Your parents will be here in a few hours. We called them for you.”

Clark turns to walk away, but I grab his hand. “Thank you for…...everything.”

He bows his head slightly before leaving the room.

~

They never found the knife. I had to testify at the trial and it was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I was proud of myself for getting through it. I tried to avoid looking at him for the duration of the trial. I only looked at him once. He was running his pointer finger around the edge of a coffee cup and he had a smug look on his face. 

Alan was sentenced to life in prison with the possibility of parole after serving twenty-five years. I hope he never gets out.

The details of the incident were fuzzy for a period of time, but most of it came back to me. I wish some of it would’ve stayed buried.

I moved to Ohio shortly after the trial was over. I had a lot of healing to do and I wanted to do it around my family. My first instinct had been to shut everyone out because that’s what I have always done. However, there is something about almost dying that changes things. He ruined more than just my t-shirt this time.