He could hear the noise around, but his ears were buzzing.

It had started with an innocent chat at his signing session downtown, when his latest book had come out. She was rather charming, though a little intense. He had been doing well with his two previous novels, but not the kind of success that came with its lot of fans…

Soon after, he had started bumping into her every now and then. At the grocery store, at the movie theater, and that night when she had seemed to be waiting for him on the porch, when he had come home late in the evening.

Then the letters had started to show up, in his mailbox, almost daily. First flattered, he had started to find this stalking spooky.

Staring at the wall, he tried to measure the deepness of her sick mind. In so little time, how could anyone gather so much personal information about him? There were pictures of him on his whereabouts, lists of people he knew, of places he had gone to, of things he liked. She even had a plan of his house and details about every single room. And there were dozens, if not hundreds of his three novels piled up everywhere.

He shivered, and jumped when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

Mr Donovan? Are you ok? We’re taking her in custody… As soon as we get her in the car, I’ll come back to take your deposition… Is that ok with you?

He nodded, still at a loss for words.

When he had followed her to her apartment, to try to settle this nicely, he hadn’t suspected this.

The two cops were dragging her down the corridor, when she got a glimpse of him.

PETER!!!! I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!

Good riddance, he thought.

Via Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge