Couldn't Be a Stalker If I Tried

You know that feeling right before you sneeze, when your whole-body courses with tingles and you can’t really breath for a second. The airways in your lungs come to an abrupt halt, if it lasted any longer, you’d think you were dying. If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to travel through a wall, that’s the best way I could describe it. That’s the feeling shooting up my… not so body at this exact moment. The only part of me that doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode is my face, just enough to allow me to see what Cassie Baker is doing in her living room. Before you make assumptions, I’m not a stalker, I couldn’t be. I couldn’t be seen even if I wanted to, therefor, not a stalker.

             Before we jump into why I’m watching Cassie Baker binge watch Netflix, let me tell you more about myself. So far, I hope you’ve picked up on the fact that I’m not… alive. I’m stuck here. I guess there’s some sort of unfinished business keeping my soul trapped and I’m not interested in figuring it out. I don’t mind being a spirit, I actually love it. I can be whatever I want, whenever I want. The opportunities are endless. Personally, I like to imagine myself as having a body still, with a head, two arms, and two legs. Just like any other human, I just happen to be invisible.

             Now back to Cassie, the love of my life. Okay, she doesn’t know it yet, but we are meant to be. John Parks has no idea that he did me a favor the day he shot a bullet through my skull. This plan I’ve conjured up would never work if she could see me. It was clear that in the real world a girl like Cassie Baker would never give a guy like me a chance. Noah Melber was no one to her. I was just the weird kid who ate my lunch in the bathroom and used a scooter for transportation. As I stand inside the front wall of her two-bedroom apartment, I can’t stop thinking about what it will be like when we can finally be together. This plan has to work. If it doesn’t, the last five months of my afterlife were a total waste.

             As Cassie gets up off her couch she takes a full scan of the room, almost like she knows someone is watching her. I watch her do her nightly routine, the one I’ve memorized by now. First, she brushes her teeth, then she washes her face, and lastly, she fills up a glass with water. She always fills it up the same amount, a little over half. This is because every-night she wakes up at approximately 2:22 AM and finishes the water in its entirety before returning to bed. Wow, maybe I am a stalker.

             Watching her routine reminds me of when I was alive. It reminds me of when I used to observe her in the hallways at school, in the classroom, and on the sidewalk while she waltzed home in the evening. I would take the long route home just so I could walk behind her for longer. I knew what it felt like to be invisible long before I died. I could’ve thrown myself right in front of that girl, but she still wouldn’t have seen me. She was perfect and I was me. This is why I’m better off dead. The afterlife was made for me. Maybe John Parks knew that and that’s why he killed me. Maybe he was doing me a favor, or maybe he just hated me that much. Who would’ve thought stealing three dollars would cost you your life. Well, for the price of three dollars I now get a chance with the most perfect girl to ever exist.

             At this point I’ve moved my way to the rocking chair in the corner of Cassie’s bedroom. I like watching her sleep. That sounded really creepy, I’m not creepy. She’s just so peaceful and I want to appreciate that. It’s almost time to start the long-awaited plan but disturbing this precious moment feels like a crime. As the clock strikes 2:00AM, I know it’s almost time. Twenty-two more minutes until this peace turns into chaos.

             2:10…2:15…2:20…Cassie sits up, rubs her left eye and then reaches for her glass of water. In a timely manner she finishes her water and just as she reaches to place it back on the sparkly coaster I begin to move. I start to rock back and forth, back and forth, trying to make this oddly modern rocking chair make that creepy croak that it does in all the classic horror movies. How do they manage to make it sound so creepy? This just sounds pathetic. Stupid modern rocking chair. Nonetheless, I guess the creepy sound isn’t needed, because Cassie is looking at me, or where I would be, with the most frightened look I’ve ever seen painted across her face. She looks cute when she’s scared.

             As she clenches the empty glass in her shaky hands, she begins to get out of bed to examine the rocking chair. This is my moment; I’ve got to do it. One step, two, three, she’s right in front of me… go time. I whip the rocking chair around and hit the glass perfectly out of her hand. It flies through the air and lands on the ground behind her. Broken glass everywhere. She falls over in a panic, just like I knew she would. She gets clumsy when she’s scared. As she lays on the ground shaking, I rethink what I’m about to do. Is this a good idea? I’m not a bad spirit. I’m doing this because I love her. She’ll understand… won’t she? Before I let my thoughts get the best of me, I reach for the largest shard of glass. She must see this because she starts to back away. She could never run away from me, I am everywhere.

             I give her a minute to understand what’s about to happen. To grapple with the fact her life will be taken away in the next ten seconds. Just like I did. John held the gun up to my face before pulling the trigger, he held it there. He had to make the moment linger just to screw up my head that much more. Now I’ll have someone who can relate, now we’ll have something in common. As I hold the piece of glass above her chest something comes over me. I don’t even feel like myself. How could I do this? No, no, these thoughts need to stop, this is what’s meant to be. I bring the shard down and lodge it in between her lungs. She lets out a soft cry, before going limp. Is that all it takes? One slice? I bring the shard up and down a few more times to make sure the deed is done before returning to the all too modern rocking chair to wait.

             As I stare at her body, covered in that red substance that signifies death, I don’t know how to feel. I feel accomplished, but also like a void has appeared. I’ve spent so much time observing this perfect human and now… she’s dead. She’s dead because of me. But I did it for her, she’s going to be happier. I was happier.

             Just as the thoughts almost become too much, I see it. I see a clear iridescent blob come out of the limp body that is curled up on the ground. I watch as it slowly transforms into the shape of a body, into her body. She’s just like me, a ghost that still wants to portray a human. As the eyes form on her face, they are instantly locked onto mine. She’s looking at me. She’s actually looking at me. Cassie Baker, for the first time in her life, can see me.

“Cassie” I say softly.

“Did you just…k- “is all she can manage to get out.

“No, no, of course not. I could sense this tragedy was happening and wanted to be here for the victim when they realized what has happened” I lied.

“Oh. Ok. How did you know my name” she asked.

“When you’re like me you just know things” I say.

“I see, who even are you” she wondered.

“I’m Noah, nice to meet you. Want to learn how to travel through a wall?”