You had noticed strange things happening for weeks. Small objects going missing, your favorite mug, a pair of earrings, a book you swore you left on your nightstand. At first, you thought you were just being forgetful. But then the flowers started appearing. Fresh bouquets placed neatly on your bedroom dresser. That’s when you knew, someone had been in your house.

At night, you felt eyes on you, a presence lingering just beyond your sight. Doors you were sure you had locked were found slightly ajar in the morning. You started double-checking windows, leaving lights on, even setting up your phone to record while you slept. But the videos always came up blank.

Desperate, you decided to address the intruder directly. Maybe, if the they saw you acknowledge them, they’d stop.

You sat down with a piece of paper and wrote

“Dear Stalker—”

Before you could finish, a deep voice interrupted you.

“My name is Kevin. Not Stalker.”