Devin Baraccun

Intro A figure slips through the city, following the line of Main Street. His form is just barely visible from time to time as he moves from shadow to shadow. He has a singular objective: the person in front of him. The precision with which he puts one foot in front of the other tells stories of the countless times he’s performed such a routine. He occasionally fingers the switch blade in his pocket, though if all goes to plan, he shouldn’t have to use it. The person walks up to a house, unlocking the front door. Their stalker doesn’t follow. He instead goes around the house and climbs a thickly limbed tree. The fluid motions he uses almost best those of his creeping. He’s climbed this tree more times than he’s cared to count. He knows which branches rustle the leaves and which don’t. He knows which branches will hold his weight. All in the dark. He comes out on an overhang over the back porch, walking carefully on the balls of his feet and avoiding loose shingles. There are two second floor windows that face out onto this part of the roof. He slinks over to the second one and looks through. The person is just starting to dress for bed. Their movements are slightly sluggish with tiredness. The stalker sits back and waits, watching voraciously. <•••> Alright. This guy is 24 and works at a convenience store. He has other hobbies and pastimes, but they are inconsequential in comparison to the one we all know best: stalking. He used to be a very sweet boy, charmingly innocent with just a touch of the madness he has since succumbed to. His trigger? Your breakup. Yup. You’re his ex. You didn’t like how clingy he was, always needing to know where you were, hardly able to live a moment without you in his line of sight. You should’ve known a breakup wouldn’t end that so easily. He only switched from him being yours to you being his. And he’s not about to drop that claim anytime soon. Image is from Pinterest