It is all the little things.
The flowers arranged a particular way. The curtains moving even when there is no wind. The finger print on the bathroom mirror. The golden hair on the pillow next to me.
I am the face of The News at 5. Which as you can see is not The News at 7. Someday I will fill those giant shoes that will be left by Amy Kinney. She has large feet but really nice shoes.
So, the thing I was talking about.
I have a stalker. I am not freaking out. I mean, these days everyone likes some invasion of privacy. And if you knew who my stalker is, you would want him to invade yours too.
Curious? I found out on my birthday. There was a card lying right next to me on my bed. Usual happy birthday stuff. Signed Mercury. I had it verified by a friend I have.
It was HIM. Mercury. The Golden Speedster. Granted the powers of super-humanesque speed by the Greek Gods. He had golden hair. Blue eyes, square jaw, the amulet of the Gods around his neck. The media had made it out as if he and Amy Kinney had a special connection.
But I had myself a super stalker. This was the perfect way to move up the timeslot ladder.
One day I got home a little late and found hot pork chops on the dinner table. Another day, a tub of ice cream with a chocolate sauce Mercury written on it. A hot bath someday, a nice flower on some another. It was all going nicely.
Then one day the MOAT people showed up. Claimed that I was a ‘bad influence’. They searched the house. They found Grade 6 Category C banned substances in my house. In. My. House.
It was all a haze. I never understood much. The processing was a blur. Everything was.
Like when Mercury runs at that divine speed of his.
I wrote to him. He never wrote back. I tried telling those agents. No one believed me.
Then Amy Kinney showed up. She explained how the network bosses were planning to move me to the News at 7 slot and how it was necessary for her to get me out of the picture and how she has Mercury hooked onto some drug that only she has access to.
That is how she trapped me.
Help me.
Veronica Lane
[All communication shall be addressed to The Arbitrator, Sleeter House For Those Beyond Help, Waldonis.]
The flowers arranged a particular way. The curtains moving even when there is no wind. The finger print on the bathroom mirror. The golden hair on the pillow next to me.
I am the face of The News at 5. Which as you can see is not The News at 7. Someday I will fill those giant shoes that will be left by Amy Kinney. She has large feet but really nice shoes.
So, the thing I was talking about.
I have a stalker. I am not freaking out. I mean, these days everyone likes some invasion of privacy. And if you knew who my stalker is, you would want him to invade yours too.
Curious? I found out on my birthday. There was a card lying right next to me on my bed. Usual happy birthday stuff. Signed Mercury. I had it verified by a friend I have.
It was HIM. Mercury. The Golden Speedster. Granted the powers of super-humanesque speed by the Greek Gods. He had golden hair. Blue eyes, square jaw, the amulet of the Gods around his neck. The media had made it out as if he and Amy Kinney had a special connection.
But I had myself a super stalker. This was the perfect way to move up the timeslot ladder.
One day I got home a little late and found hot pork chops on the dinner table. Another day, a tub of ice cream with a chocolate sauce Mercury written on it. A hot bath someday, a nice flower on some another. It was all going nicely.
Then one day the MOAT people showed up. Claimed that I was a ‘bad influence’. They searched the house. They found Grade 6 Category C banned substances in my house. In. My. House.
It was all a haze. I never understood much. The processing was a blur. Everything was.
Like when Mercury runs at that divine speed of his.
I wrote to him. He never wrote back. I tried telling those agents. No one believed me.
Then Amy Kinney showed up. She explained how the network bosses were planning to move me to the News at 7 slot and how it was necessary for her to get me out of the picture and how she has Mercury hooked onto some drug that only she has access to.
That is how she trapped me.
Help me.
Veronica Lane
[All communication shall be addressed to The Arbitrator, Sleeter House For Those Beyond Help, Waldonis.]
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