A series of creepy and crazy persons stalking, taunting, threatening or killing their victims. Each story ends with a moral.
Please add a story!
***I am not a creep. I just find it interesting to write in a crazed perspective.***
Finally I have arrived at Cladmont High. I pull a hoodie over my gray hair. Slowly, making sure not to get any attention, I walk towards a group of students. I stand casually on the other side of the hall. I listen. "Omigawd it is like way to hot in here!" says Molly.
The last time I saw her was in a bar. Even though she was crying she looked beautiful. In fact she looked like my wife had a long time ago. She was very drunk that night. So I walked up to her. She smiled at me with
perfect little pearly white teeth. She was just so charming. I bought her another drink. We talked. She made me feel young. She made me forget that I was old and ugly. She told me I was handsome. I knew that it was wrong to be talking to a 17 year old girl at a bar, but she made me feel alive, so I didn't care.
At the end of the night we exchanged numbers. I guess she didn't really like me after all. She never called. After I got tired of waiting for her, I started calling her, and texting her, and emailing her. It became a deadly obsession. At first she responded saying she didn't know who I was. She asked and then begged me not to contact her. That made me angry. After a month of this I had had enough so here I am.
I wait patiently, silently until all of Molly's friends have gone off to class. I follow her to the restroom. When she was in a stall I speak. "When are you going to respond to my texts?" I ask in a hushed tone, "what about my emails? Were you ever planning on calling me?" "Who the hell are you?" she cries. "Your friend from the bar. I find it insulting that you don't remember me. Say you're sorry Molly." I growl. I can hear her crying. "I am sorry. Really really sorry!" she whimpers, "what do you want?" I clench my teeth. "Why didn't you call Molly!" I shout. "I don't know you!" she screams, "Leave me the hell alone!" "Nobody can hear you Molly, baby." I hiss, "I can do whatever the hell I want and nobody will know."
And guess what? Nobody did. Bye bye Molly! Oh for all of you who like a moral at the end of every story here is one: don't talk to strangers. If you do you'll end up dead, hanging from a bathroom door with your hair pulled out and blood dripping down your neck.