the last couple of weeks you'd been feeling.. weird. like someone was watching you, but you chalked it up to paranoia and fatigue. and then you noticed that things in your house had started disappearing, and some were out of place altogether. weird, huh?

whenever something was wrong, whenever you got chills down your spine, you'd call matt, your best friend. and he'd always, always be there for you. sometimes matt would stay over because it made you feel better. he'd always reassure you, tell you you were safe. but you clearly didn't know him much enough.

matt was the reason for your paranoia and sleepless nights. he was obsessed with you, to say at least. it took a while for matt to realize he was obsessed with you. at first he'd just start watching you through the uncurtained windows on the street. the way you twirled around the room to the rhythm of the music, the way you sat at your laptop working, the way you changed your clothes. his eyes were fixated on you.

and then he became more risky. he started sneaking into your place, sometimes rummaging around the kitchen looking for something to eat, sometimes pacing around your room while you were out. he dreamed of you, you were all he could think about. he wanted you so much to be his. only his.

matt tried to force himself to stop this, telling himself that this was not normal, but he couldn’t stop. the fear of being caught and the desire to know everything about you, down to the smallest detail, sent shivers down his spine. he liked it, he enjoyed it.

he saw the confusion in your eyes when you couldn’t find your bracelet while he was waiting for you, lying on your bed. you were going to go to the movies tonight, but something always went wrong. either your shoes weren't in the same place as before, or you couldn't find the jewelry you needed, even though you knew that it was supposed to be in the drawer of the bedside table