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"The Stalker (Story)"

Foreword: I've been trying to capture the perspective of someone who is insane or demeted and this is what I came up with. Feedback, positive or negative, welcomed.

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I wait in the cold darkness beside her house, gently throwing small stones at her bedroom window to get her attention. I feel warm deep inside despite being hopelessly nervous, tonight is the night I will declare my love to her and ask her to come away with me. Forever. I shiver in the cold night air and I see my misty breath in front of me.

The yellow light fills the window above and the silhouette of a woman appears. I hold my breath and wait for her sweet angelic voice to summon me. “What do you want?” she queries sleepily. “I’ve come for you my princess” I replied, the line I had rehearsed so many times in my head. “Who..” She began, “Oh, its you.” She paused. “What do you want?”

I am astounded, either she was joking with me or my true love is shunning my romantic gesture. “What do you mean?” I questioned in an alarmed voice. “I’ve come to take you away, we’re going to live in the country dear!” She looked back at me briefly and snapped, “Look I don’t know why you’re following me but I’m sick of it. I’m going to call the police.”

I stand here in the icy-cold air and feeling neglect, woe and fear all at once. Does my love not know my true feelings for her? I now knew I had to prove my love to her with an act of selflessness. She kept a key under her doormat, I know because I had watched her so often. I take the liberty of letting myself in and closing the door behind me.

It’s warm inside her hallway and the entire downstairs of the house is unlit and eerily quiet. I begin up the stairs and the soft rubber soles of my boots leaves large muddy imprints on the stairs. I will clean the mess later, when I am forgiven. I continue up the stairs and pad across the landing to the door from which a dim yellow light escapes from the crack underneath it. It was the promised land; her bedroom.

I take a deep breath outside her door before gripping the cold metal handle and gently pushing the door open. The hinges squeak as the door opens and I peer in to see her terrified face glaring back at me. “What the hell do you want from me?” she shouted, a spark of terror danced about in her pretty eyes as she cowered in the corner, clutching a sturdy looking paperweight.

I advance towards her feeling a mix of worry and tenderness. “It’s ok my princess” I say reassuringly, “Everything is going to be just fine.” I hear the sound of sirens growing louder in the background and I know I have very little time left. “Come with me, trust me” I exclaim to her, but she doesn’t seem to want to know. “Leave me alone” she began weeping. The sirens were deafening now and the room flashed blue and black from the police lights outside.

“If that’s how it must be princess, then we will be together in death.” I remove the large silver revolver from my jacket pocket, plan B as I playfully called it, and aimed it shakily at her head. I close my eyes, I can’t bear the look in my princess’s eyes, I squeeze the trigger and a loud pop echoes throughout the room, temporarily deafening me. With my eyes still closed I draw the gun to my head and press the hot barrel to my forehead, the hot metal burns my skin but that doesn’t matter. I grasp the trigger with my index finger and I ignore the sound of officers in boots running up the stairs as I pull the trigger, with nothing but the vision of my princess in my mind.

It 'SO' Wasn't :-)

What a sneaky pop that was.

Thanks for feedback everyone :-D

If it's the same as the Brazilian beach, it's Copa Cabana.
I think.
It's not Coca anyway.
I think.

I wrote something ages ago about that same song, maybe I'm obsessed.

I wish I could have a bouffant, but seeing as how I’m common, I have a quaff.

Coca Cabbana - Barry Mannilow - "His name was Nice, he has a diamond" -

*ponders English_Bloke's reference to the crooner with the bouffant*

Nah, as I said, it is a good thing. Just so long as you don't become mean for no reason, that would just make you a bully.

He sings Co-ca-cabana...if that's how it's spelt.

A story about a singing dog - sounds promising.

And yes, I have decided to be more critical... but in a nice and constructive way, of course.

Ooh, Blacky, the power of Notable has gone to your head. Criticism? Not like you to hand out too much of that. Tis a good thing though. Soon enough you will get to do the same for me about my singing dog story.

The 'then we will be together in death' bit was kind of predictible and a little cliche.
I don't think this delusional man would be the kind to carry a revolver.
If the ending had an unusual twist like, maybe there is someone else in the room or something (?), then that would make it better.
It needs an unexpected ending.