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Watching Over Brook

Andrew watched out for Brook. He always had, for the first few years she didn’t even know he existed. Until he started leaving her presents a few months ago. She didn’t understand, he was just watching out for her. Just helping. She filed a restraining order. Andrew still watched, still helped from a distance.

Today, he got a box delivered from her address. Finally, she understands that I’m trying to help he thought. He peeled off the tape excited to see what she gave him. Scenario, after scenario popped into his mind of what it could be, but inside was a letter.

Dearest Andrew,

     After months of watching you fumble after her. I’ve decided to intervene. Stop watching her. Stop following her. Push her from your mind or I will do it for you.

Your secret admirer


I love that shirt. The Rolling Stones rock.

He looked down at his t-shirt and back at the letter. “What the hell?” His fist drew, crumpling the letter into a ball. He knew he couldn’t go to the police because they wouldn’t understand why he’d been watching out for Brook still.

Someone was watching him, probably still was. They threatened Brook. He was going to have to redouble his efforts and be extra careful.

Weeks went by and his surveillance intensified. Sleeping only a few hours a day, terrified someone would hurt his Brook.

It was a Tuesday. The doorbell rang waking him up. He glanced at the clock, 2:37 pm. He’d only been asleep thirty minutes. He opened the door to find a box, with Brooks return address and terror flooded him. His eyes opened and he scanned the area. He picked up the box and walked back to his kitchen table. He sat down across from the box watching it. Listening for signs of a ticking time bomb or anything that would indicate what’s inside. His stomach was in knots as he slowly peeled off the tape. Each strip twisted the knots tighter and tighter until it was hard for him to breath. He took a deep breath and a strange scent hit him. It was coppery and made something primal in the back of his mind want to bolt. He looked inside the box and found his worst nightmare. Brook’s severed head was inside. He scrambled back nearly falling over his chair. Gagging, barely making it to the trashcan to retch. He started sobbing between dry heaves. When he’d calmed himself down, he looked in the box again. He’d never see her smile, never see the flecks of gold in her eyes when she was mad and threatening to call the cops. He noticed there was another note.
Dearest Andrew,

Look what you made me do. You didn’t take my warning seriously and she paid the price. So, now that you know I’m serious, you will not go to the police. Hell, even if you do its just another city I can’t go to. I really miss Central Park. You will not find a new girl. I’m your only girl. I’ll know. I’m always watching. Leave her head on the patio and I’ll take care of everything for you.

Love always,

Your most secret admirer

“She can’t go to New York. That’s where I’m headed. I’ll be back to avenge you my sweet, sweet Brook.” He put the head on the patio, ran back into the house and threw his stuff into a bag. He hopped into his van and drove as fast as he could.

A woman stepped out of the bushes picked up the box and looked at the head inside. It was a perfect match to her own. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and took the box in her other arm.

“You were right it worked. A bust of my head and blood from the butcher had him running. We have an hour to clear out of here. He’s smart. He’ll realize what happened soon. Yeah Babe, love you too.” Brook was finally going to be free of her creepy stalker.

Brook was right, Andrew was smart. Smart enough to realize that the killer would be coming back to his house soon. Smart enough to realize that the Central Park comment was planted so they’d know where he was. Smart enough to stay behind and see who picked up the head. Smart enough to know his Brook would never do this to him. Now Andrew could still watch out for Brook.

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About Perry

I'm a writer. I've always been fascinated by the paranormal, books, movies, unexplained mysteries. My fascination tends to creep into my writing.

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