Stalky McStalker-Pants

Freaky letter this morning, for the mouseling from her father. It was a long budget, seven sides of A4, and was creepy beyond expectation, listing those times when he'd spied her from afar over the last 17 years. And kinda whiny and pathetic too, but mostly creepy in a stalkery kind of way. We knew he'd stalked her to her school a couple of years ago, but this was just a bit nasty and needy. And if he thought it would suddenly make her want to meet him in a less stalker/stalkee way, well, he fell far short of the mark there.

I think she has to write to him and tell him to go away. But she doesn't even want to do that, as she thinks it'll make him stalk a little harder. I know if I write, he'll not be satisfied. And frankly, I don't want to. 18 summers ago, I did something I'm not too proud of, though the result is the my pride and joy. He means nothing to me, and even less to her.

Creepiest by far was when he said he spotted her in town with her friends, and how he knew it was her because one of them called her by name. I don't doubt that he did see her, as she has the dubious fortune of looking exactly like me at that age, and very like what his memory of me would be. But to follow her through town, creepy much?

She is, not unsurprisingly, rather shaken by all this.