Amanda lived alone in her apartment, well alone unless you include her beloved cat, Mellow. The flat her apartment was in had three floors, and she was on the second. She was an accountant, not a very special job. Like her occupatation, she was a normal person, someone simply in the background. Every day, she would arrive home at 6:00PM, feed Mellow and watch TV until she's tired. But we're not talking about those days, as of May the third her usual routine was interrupted. She had come back home, but when she opened the door to her apartment up, she noticed something peculiar: a letter. It didn't have that damned council logo or beige envelope, it was sent by an ordinary person like her. She picked it up and entered her apartment. Mellow didn't bother moving off her bed to greet her owner, but meowed instead. Amanda sat down on the sofa and looked at the letter. Her name wasn't written on the envelope but typed in courier new. Her address was no where to be seen, but she thought nothing of this in the moment. She opened up the envelope and took the paper out. She unfolded it and began reading the letter, it was also tyed up and said:
"Dear Ms Amanda Cooper, I hope you're doing well. I'm writing to you to tell you a story, we all love stories, don't we? The story is one of despair, internal struggle and also true love. It is the story of my life. Growing up, I never had any friends. The only kids who would talk to me were my bullies. They'd mock me for my intelligence, calling me a retard. The worst part is that it was completely true: I was slower then my peers and would fail any and every test. It was when I was seven that I could do the simplest of arithmetic, and I still struggled. I was also short and weak, had no talents and lacked social skills. Insults always hurt because deep down we know they're true. My high school years were living hell, full of endless torment. The moment I turned eighteen my parents kicked me out with little money. They were always ashamed of me, my life had little worth, it was disposable. I had to move in with my grandfather. I tried earning as much money as I could so I could move out, but I could never keep a job. I tried working at McDonalds but was fired because I never remembered orders and would (unintentionally) mess them up. My life was utterely miserable, but I ended up finding my purpose. When I was considering ending it all, I met a woman. She was kind, smart, patient and empathetic, I instantly fall for her. Her name was Amanda Cooper. Yes, this letter is a confession. Ever since seeing you three years ago, I've been obsessed. At first I thought that I should have just forgot about you, but you were mysterious. Not once did I see a guest enter your apartment, you aren't the social type are you? Don't be on alert: I only noticed this from concern. No one knew anything about you, so I wanted to solve this enigma. Because of my concern I also learnt that you go to work at 9:00AM and arrive home at 6:00PM-"
Amanda put the letter down. A drop of sweat fall down her cheek. It had to be some sort of sick joke. For someone to notice this routine they must be living near her. She only had one neighbouring apartment because her's was on the corner of the flat. It must have been someone from her workplace, he had a terrible sense of humour and would often send joke emails. Still, Amanda wasn't exactly comforted, so she closed the curtains to feel more assured. Mellow sat on her lap and she continued reading the letter.
"You only leave the house at these times on week-days though, so I'm guessing these are your work hours. The more I found out about you, the more I needed to know. You became my hobby, my passion. I quickly found out that you were a fan of J-Rock, I could hear the music and you singing along. You really did get me into some good bands! I ended up finding a spot where I could hear everything: films (from what I've been able to hear, The Craft is one of your favourites), TV shows and video games. Besides from being able to hear you, I'd watch you from above, though I always preferred being in that special place where I could hear you. I wish I could be you, your intelligence, your beauty, I wish I could just crawl into your skin, your soft, angelic skin. I would love to wear it, but for now being near you is the best I can do. Sometimes you're that close to my body, we're seperated by only a few centimetres, it's truly delightful-"
Amanda once again put the letter down. She was shaking and covered in sweat, the letter couldn't have been a cruel prank, it knew too much, and she was a reserved person, so no one except herself knew these things. She continued to shake, she had to find out where her stalker is. If he was watching her from above, he must have an apartment on the third floor, and would watch when she was on the balcony. But where could he hear her? A few centimetres apart... where he couldn't be seen... the walls... the paper-thing walls!
Amanda had no clue what to do next, where was he? He may be in the walls, but where? But then she heard a shuffle. She crept into the kitchen and took the largest knife there. She moved slowly but silently to where the noise was coming from, fingers trembling she stabbed the knife into the wall with all her strength. There was a gasping sound, and then silence. Amanda grabbed some of the cracks in the cheap wall and pulled them. Inside the wall was the corpse of an ugly bone-thin man, with a knife stuck in his chest.