There was another one. Another lily.
You sighed, gently picking up the beautiful bloom and tossing onto the winter frosted lawn. They always appeared every morning in the mailbox.
It was fifth one this week. The twentieth one that month. There was no need for you to try to remember how many in the past year.
At first when these little flowers had appeared, you had thought that your boyfriend, Francis, was the one doing it. But he had told you he would never do something as distant as that. He would much rather bring you a bouquet of flowers personally, just to see the expression on your face.
"Anozer one?" Francis looked up, a frown on his lips. You nodded, flipping through the mail.
Bills, advertisement, card from your mother and, You frowned at the last one, an unmarked letter.
Ripping it open, you paled at the words on the light blue paper.
Roses are red
Violets aren't blue.
If your boyfriend was dead
I would have you.
You dropped the note and stumbled back. Francis was out of his seat, scooping up the note and reading it hurriedly. He cursed in French, crumbling the note.
"Zis 'as to stop!!"
You nodded, biting your bottom lip in fear. Francis picked up his cellphone, no doubt calling Toni or Gilbert.
The house phone rang. Snatching it up, you instantly regretted it.
"Hello _________. You're scared, aren't you love?"
"W-Who are you?" You stuttered.
"Doesn't matter love. All that matters is Francis can't keep you!" The voice trilled.
Francis came up behind you and snatched the phone away. You watched as he listened for a few seconds, his face twisting in anger.
"You just stay away." He hissed, turning, he slammed the phone down. A few seconds later, it began ringing again.
The phone wouldn't stop ringing.
Finally in a fit of rage, Francis ripped the cord out of the wall and threw the phone into the garbage.
Then your cellphone started to ring. Francis gave you his cellphone, giving yours to Gilbert. You had watched as Gilbert ran over the phone with his motorcycle.
Then there was silence, blissfulness silence. No more letters, no more lilies, no more phone calls.
Francis calmed down, mellowing out back to his normal self. Everything was normal, almost like nothing had happened at all.
But then the normality shattered.
It happened on a Saturday.
You woke up when the light of the rising sun hit your face. Squinting your rolled onto your back. Something dripped onto your face.
You blinked, squinted, rubbed your eyes and stared at the ceiling. You froze.
I'm coming for you poppet.
Five words, written in blood red paint. The paint was dripping onto your bed.
You let out a shriek scrambling out of your bed. Your boyfriend hurtled into the room, wearing only a pair of boxers.
He looked at the bed and it's splatters of red paint.
"What is ze matter? Are you 'urt, were is ze blood?"
"What?" He looked confused and slightly scared. You pointed to your ceiling with a shaking finger. Francis looked up and all of the color drained from his face.
"Merde." He hissed, his fist curling into tight fists.
" 'E was in your room."
You shuddered at the thought, clutching the front of your shirt.
Your stalker was in your room. A strange man, in your room. While you were sleeping.
Tears slid down your face while you watched Francis phone the police. He held you as your room was searched for evidence.
And he never left your side.
No one was arrested. You stalker hadn't been found.
Francis didn't allow you out of the house anymore. If you needed anything, Gilbert, Antonio and Francis would get it for you.
But in a way, the house wasn't your sanctuary, it was your prison.
Francis's cellphone rang. Thinking it was either Antonio or Gilbert you picked it up.
It was him, the stalker. But Francis wasn't here. He was at work, there was no one at home to protect you. No one the grab the phone and yell into it. No one to hold you while you cried in fright.
"L-Leave me alone!!"
"Why? Don't you love me?"
"NO I DON'T!! I love Francis!!"
Silence except for the shakiness of your breath. Then an irritated sigh from the man.
"Really love, so you have truly forgotten."
You stayed quite. You didn't know what he was talking about and you didn't want to find out.
"Wait love!! I---"
You hung up. Francis would be home soon.
Except he didn't. Francis didn't come home. He was late and you were worried. No, you were past worried and slowly becoming hysterical.
After calling Gilbert and Antonio, the hysteria grew. Neither of them had seen Francis all day.
You called his work and were told that he hadn't come to work that day.
An icy chill crept it's way into your mind.
The cell phone rang. You picked it up, knowing perfectly well who it was.
"What." Your voice was dull and flat.
"Hello poppet!! Guess who I have!!"
"Yes!! Good guess!! Know what's going to happen next?"
"You'll let him go."
"D-Don't be silly love!! Once Francis is gone, we'll be together again!!!"
"No. I don't know you. I will never love you."
"You don't mean that."
"I do. If you really love me, you'll let Francis go."
There was a click. He had hung up.
Three hours later Francis stumbled in. His clothing was torn and his face had several bruise.
You ran to him, sobbing. He was silent, just holding you.
And there was no more trouble with your stalker. He had given up, he had left.
But you found out much later that he hadn't truly stopped watching you.
The day after your came how with your newborn daughter, Francis found a balloon tied to the mail box. It said congratulations.
And it seemed that misfortune looked the other way. Nothing horrid ever befell your family. Almost as if the man who had scared you so much, had turned into a type of guardian angel.