Creative Writing: The Stalker

"Skylar, give me your phone now," Mom says, her voice taking on more of an agitated tone.

Come on you stupid phone, I think, trying to delete the messages. I've memorized the phone's controls well enough that I should be able to erase everything quickly, but then again…I haven't done something like this before.

"Skylar," she says, ripping the phone from my grasp. I swear under my breath when I notice the messages are still there; I had been milliseconds away from deleting them.

She's quiet for a few moments as she scrolls through the conversations between Xavier and me. The whole time, I can't even look at her. I know what she's going to say, and she's right. I should be more cautious, but I just can’t believe Xavier could ever be my

Turning back to her room, I push open the bedroom door, trying to keep quiet. I have to see if I can find the paper she brought in while coming back from her walk. For some reason, I feel that it may be from my stalker, or someone who knows who my stalker is, and what he wants from me. I think the note would be more of an answer than my mother would ever give me.

Right now, I don't know who my stalker could be. There are so many suspects that I can't count them on my fingers; I feel I cannot trust anyone anymore, even my own mother. It's like everyone is in on this thick plot except for me.

Taking a deep breath, I close the door quietly and begin to rip apart her room. Where would she hide a note that would be important to her? Where would she stash something in hopes that I’ll never locate it?

First, I go through her garbage, just in case she had decided to throw it out. Only, I don't find anything except for some granola bar wrappers, which seems to be her main source of food to consume right now, besides the somewhat-elaborate dinners she prepares for the two of us. She's never been much of a healthy eater, especially in stressful