A lady in the crowd
Dear someone unknown,
My heart beat pounded out of my chest when the police searched for Hugo Rodriguez's background. "Miss he doesn't exist in this Valley, nor at any other High school in California. I searched four years back, and nothing shows up. It's impossible to file a restraining order when we've got no trace of him," the police man scowled and deeply sighed. Even his most basic information is a lie. His address, job, age, including his past. He wears layers of mask's beneath his identity.
This stubborn nineteen year old man won't leave me alone. He leaves letters under my door steps. My personal delivery never fails on sending me daily essays. Front and back. I've come to realize that you never really know someone because the depth of a soul is a novel that is a work in process; it never ends. It's a motion that's constantly evolving.
The more I learn less I know; the more monstrous humans appear. A painting intrigues from a far distance, but a closer look begins to show the worst. Each dent, imperfection, and deep cracks of damage. He Dwells for an invitation for a cold place within my heart. But he's dangerous and far to much to handle. I wish nothing more than for us to become strangers once more.
Authors note of reflection: I continue to look over my shoulder. Maybe he might be following me. Sometimes I have a feeling that someone is watching me. I met a compulsive liar who had an obsession over me. Why? I don't see why he choose me as a spectacle, not until this day. Meeting a stalker is anything but boring. It keeps you on your toes and makes you question everything twice.