Creative Corner: Stalker’s Choice, Part 2

The Victim


“I swear we left him right there,” Chloe told the police stubbornly.

Alison swatted her arm, feeling that creeping feeling on her neck again. “Chloe! This is an official statement!

“It’s true!” Chloe said, bugging her eyes out again and gesturing wildly to the last spot they had seen Simon Miller- on the curb in front of their apartment building. “He was in front of the apartment, and then he was gone. Not our fault he can’t be left alone for two seconds-”

“Be serious,” Alison hissed.

The police officer in front of them sighed, seeming like he was thinking his job wasn’t worth dealing with the two of them. “I think we’ve got all we need.”

“So we’re innocent, right?” Chloe called after the police as they began to pack their things up. “I mean, I know we are! But just to confirm!”

Alison didn’t bother controlling her crazy friend. She was too busy staring at that spot on the sidewalk; the last spot she’d seen Simon. The spot where she’d unceremoniously kicked him out of the apartment with his suitcase after two years of him staying with them.

She couldn’t help but think that this was her fault. That Simon disappeared because of her.




The next morning came. Alison woke up with the horrible feeling that someone was watching her. She padded down the hall, still in her pajamas, and checked the front window. Nothing. Nothing to the point where it was almost suspicious. Where were the people?

Oh, yeah. Crime scene and all of that.

Alison closed the curtains.

She checked every nook and cranny in the house. The only thing she found was Chloe casually eating cereal on the couch, cocooned in at least ten blankets. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

And yet she still felt scared, like someone was watching. She’d felt like that ever since the coffee shop, three days ago.

Alison checked her messages. None. She checked her voicemails. One.

From Simon.

Her hands were shaking. She sat down at their tiny table – because dropping her expensive phone on the floor wouldn’t be good even if she eventually was going to be murdered – and opened the voicemail. The date and time on it were…

“Right before he disappeared,” Chloe said in her ear.

Alison jumped, slamming into Chloe’s blanket-clad arm. “Chloe! How’d you even get over here?”

“You were acting suspicious,” Chloe said casually. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t killed our dear roommate.”

“Not funny,” Alison muttered, calming her breathing and forcing her hands to stop shaking. “Are you going to listen to this or not?”

Chloe wordlessly sat next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder. Silent emotional support. Chloe might not always know when to be serious, but she knew when Alison was upset.

Alison clicked play on the voicemail-


Simon’s voice blared out of the phone. It sounded like he was being strangled. There were sounds of scuffling, one choked-off gasp, and then the sound Alison knew too well of a phone being dropped on concrete. Then stepped on.

The voicemail slammed to a stop.

Chloe’s breath hitched. She actually looked scared, just for a second. “Alison,” she whispered. “Simon was trying to warn us. That he was about to get-”

“Killed?” Alison forced out, feeling like she’d just seen a ghost. Or heard one. Was Simon dead?

She was replaying the message before she could stop herself. Chloe murmured, “Alison, stop.”


Alison rewound it. Chloe grabbed her arm.


“Alison,” Chloe said shakily, “You’re freaking me out-”





“ALISON!” Chloe shrieked, snatching the phone from her and slamming it on the ground. It shattered on the kitchen tiles, but Simon’s disembodied voice kept playing, slower and slower.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.






I don’t think anyone saw me.

I knew that I wasn’t going to be their first suspect – in fact, I should be one of the last. I’d stayed home for a few days to let everyone calm down. And nobody knew that I was here, anyways. I was a shadow. Nothing. Perfect.

All I could think about was Allison. I wanted to see her again. I knew where she lived, but I couldn’t just walk up there like I lived there. I had to make our meeting a coincidence. Thankfully, I was good at that.

I walked to the coffee shop as I always do. Got my normal vanilla iced coffee. As I went to sit, something caught my eye – a flier saying “Looking for a Roommate”, posted on the furthest wall of the coffee shop, where all the lonely writers hung out and drank their iced lattes in silence. The flier had the names of the women who lived there and their numbers. 


I already had my phone out to call her. Allison. She was the one looking for a roommate… after I finally got rid of her other one.

What a coincidence.

“Hello,” she answered, her voice staticky over the phone. She sounded unsure. I didn’t blame her, after what happened to Simon. Poor, unsuspecting Simon.

“Hi, I would like to know if you are still looking for a roommate?” I said back.

There was a pause on the phone, before Allison answered, “I would need to meet you first.”

“Of course. Just say when and where.”

She said she would call me back when she had a date set. She told me the address of her apartment, her contact information, and her roommate’s name… if I didn’t already know everything. Like I hadn’t been waiting for an opportunity like this.