Your family owned a nice mansion, not much nice since it was gothic, but you always found it interesting so you decided on moving in. Your family was against it, since you suffered from depression and they were scared you would harm yourself. In the end, living alone felt good, it made you feel free, but the void in your heart was still present. The kitchen had a huge cellar filled with different wines and alcohol, so instead of going to therapies, you drowned your void into drinking. Every time you got drunk you ended up falling asleep on the floor or on the couch, but when you woke up you always found yourself back in your bed. You blamed your memory on the many drinks you had all the times, yet a rose layed on your nightstand repeatedly.

You just shrugged it off, but soon the roses started to appear with small ‘love’ letters. Little did you know that the guy, as well the stalker who was behind all this, came to your house and carried your drunk self to bed every night. One day, you woke up with a terrible hangover and when you gazed over your balcony, a tall figure was leaning against the frame, staring at you. He was wearing a skull balaclava, his presence made you uncomfortable, “You’re awake. Thought you fell in a coma with all the drinks you had.” He said, his deep and rough voice sent a shiver down your spine.