Sometimes I look into my reflection and think, “Why do I need all this,” “Why me,” or something like that. Until now, looking in the mirror, a thought is reflected in my head, maybe to smash the mirror.
I once did not like my figure, I always considered myself too thin, and my black hair was shoulder-length, I had brown eyes from my mother
I sit in front of the mirror until now, my damp hair sticking to my body. No wonder I just got out of the shower. I look at my phone, it shows the time of 7 am on the screen. Couple only starts at 9. I'm in my freshman year at the University of the Arts in Berkeley. I really like to draw, especially on canvas. Parents insisted on studying to be a lawyer or an architect. But with my character, their attitude did not last long. I really wanted to learn how to paint professionally and be useful to society.
I can no longer look into my reflection, I start dressing. But I stop at something that tells me that someone is watching me, very intently.
I carefully scan the room. Nothing out of the ordinary, ordinary room. In which there are many books, drawings and sketches. The final bed, table and wardrobe. The usual room of a creative person
But it still seems to me that he is watching me intently, as Butoh is waiting for my actions. Overcoming doubts, I put on a warm jacket, of course my favorite jeans. I make myself a braid on my head and tint my lips.And suddenly I hear a knock on the door. I instantly turn pale and clench my hands into a fist. I can feel my nails digging into my skin until it bleeds.
I quickly go to the kitchen and grab a sharp knife. I walk slowly to the door and look through the peephole. There is no one, how is it, why again ?. What if he hid somewhere else and waits for me to come out that bi will pounce on me. I immediately discard this thought. I'm just paranoid, I need to calm downI open the door and stumble across a large bouquet of red roses. I pick up the bouquet and close the door
I lean my head against the door and think. How tired I am, this has been going on for two months. Every day I receive bouquets or gifts at the door of my apartment. My whole apartment is filled with them.
Each time, new flowers bloom roofing felts, tulips, orchids and others. When I’m about to throw the flowers away, I’m feeling pity. I feel sorry for these beautiful flowers, although I still don’t know who leaves them to me at the door.
At first I even liked to receive them, but then one day, I did not see the flowers, but saw an envelope with my name "Cynthia" written on it. When I saw what was in the envelope, I was very scared, it contained my photographs where I was walking, went from university or was at home. First of all, at the persuasion of my friend Sileni, I turned to the police, but they threw up their hands saying that there was nothing criminal in this or maybe it was just an unsuccessful joke.
No, I know for sure that this is definitely not a joke or an accident. Someone is following me But who and why? When the clock shows 8:20, I put on my jacket and put on my shoes. Suddenly my gaze falls on the flowers and I look like and take the flowers. I can’t take it anymore, this smell makes me sickNeed to throw it away? Yes, I will Everything needs to be in a hurry otherwise I will not be in time for university