Page 27 of Creep

I robotically told them all that had been happening to me, from the moment I suspected there might be a stalker to the bathroom scene and the letters written on the mirror from the condensation that had no doubt evaporated at this point.

Officer Stevens got up to check out the mirror when I finished recounting my story, leaving Officer Geoffrey and me in the living room, silently staring at each other.

What was happening with these cops? I knew the NYPD was usually busy, given how populated New York was, but this was…strange.

“Do you have any idea who might be behind this?” Officer Geoffrey asked finally when her partner returned.

I mutely shook my head.

“Can you give us a description?”

“The man is tall,” I said, thinking back to the memory of him standing there in my bathroom. “Broad shoulders. Muscular build. He was wearing a dark gray sweatshirt… the hood was pulled up over his head, so I didn’t get to see his face…”

I trailed off, knowing my description was in no way helpful. Judging by the look on their faces, they thought so, too.

I closed my eyes. “I don’t have any new information to give you. It’s not like the man was going to show me his face so I could describe it to a sketch artist,” I said.

They shared a look. “We can take a picture of the mirror and perhaps see if we can find any prints, but there isn’t much else we can do,” Officer Stevens said.

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what more I could have said at that point. I felt like I had just invited strangers into my home so they could judge me, and not officers who would be able to help.

“He was wearing gloves,” I said, remembering that much. There would be no prints.

Again, they looked at each other. “We’ll keep this in the report, but there isn’t much we can do at this point.”

I shook my head and looked away. It felt like there was something they could do… scour the streets, give me protection, or hell, even comb through the security cameras. But it was all resources they weren’t willing to give up for little ole me, and I couldn’t think of anything I could say to them.

“I understand,” I said, deflating a bit.

They stood. Officer Stevens pulled out his card and handed it to me. I grabbed it, not feeling much. It all felt like nothing but an out-of-body experience. That I wasn’t really the one in this messed-up reality—it was someone else, and I was merely nothing more than a spectator.

“Call us if any new information comes up,” he said.

I didn’t answer him.

They left after that, closing the door behind them. It only took me a few minutes of sitting in my quiet apartment for me to remember to get up and lock the door.

The lock latched into place, and a memory struck me.

I had to unlock the door for the officers when they came by.

I gasped and stepped back from the door, taking it in. There was no damage. No signs of a break-in.

In fact, I was a hundred percent sure I had locked my door when I came home tonight. So how had the man been able to get into my apartment without breaking down the door somehow?

I moved to all the windows around my apartment. I was on the third floor and didn’t know much about scaling a building. I didn’t think it would be impossible, but not easy. Besides, all my windows were locked.

There was only one explanation.

The man had a key to my place.

10

LIA

“Amelia Whitlock,are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

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