Page 40 of Framed Obsession

Ahefty exhale leaves me. I shut the door behind me and turn the lock on the handle. The metal shakes as I double-check it. I have the apartment all to myself tonight. Zoe hasn't left my side for the past few days. Which I am thankful for, but the girl checks on me like I’m in trouble for even sitting or standing.

She has plans with her guy tonight, so I am more than happy to drop her off at his house. Which is super fancy, by the way. Z never told me what exactly he does for work besides saying he's in tech. Which can mean so many things. She probably doesn't even know the extent of what he does.

Anyway, ice cream and—

A large bow-tied package sitting on the floor catches my attention. Don’t tell me my stalker has now resorted to obnoxious gifts. What if he blew up a photo of me to giant size?

“He better not,” I mumble under my breath, making my way toward the neatly wrapped package. A little envelope is placed underneath the bow, peeking at me like a game of hide and seek. I tear it open and remove the card inside.

A card? This is new.

The outside is blank besides a few little flowers that look like printed paintings. I open the fold and a smile erratically takes my face.

To my babygirl. Please enjoy this painting. It reminded me of you.

-Love your pop

A wave of guilt washes over me. My whole life right now has been revolving around what’s been happening to me, that I’ve completely shut out my dad. I should call him. He’s probably worried about me.

I unwrap the paper. Loud rips and tears fill the air like Christmas morning. I take a step back in awe as I stare. It’s beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful paintings he's ever gotten me. And I don’t say that lightly.

There’s a girl sitting cross-legged on the floor. Paint is splattered and brushes are scattered on the floor around her. She is holding a brush, facing the half-colored canvas in front of her. Not a care in the world.

A passionate tear falls from my eye, noticing the black bow holding half her hair up. I bring a hand to my own. The soft material telling me I’m the girl in the painting. I’m left speechless. Where am I going to hang this?

I look around at the white walls of the apartment. A few small paintings already displayed around the place. I keep a few in my bedroom, aware that I’m not the only one living here. I pace around. Maybe this one can go in my room. Especially with the sentiment behind it, it feels like it was meant for only me.

I bend over, picking up the canvas framed in gold. It’s heavy. I stumble a little before leaning it against me, careful not to drop it. I wobble to my bedroom and put it on the floor flat, noticing there is a space opposite my bed empty. That'll have to do.

I walk over, moving my overly full laundry basket out of the way. Pieces of clothing fall from the side, and I just kick them away. I stare at the blank space, wondering if it's even big enough. I reach my arms out in measurement. Bringing them stretched over to my painting and eyeing like it would fit.

A ping from my phone comes from my pocket, I reach in and grab it. There's no name or number for the message. Spam texts aren't anything new. I get like twenty a day, but I’ve never seen one with no numbers. I click on the blank message. My body flares with alarm when I read what it says.

Unknown

A little to the left, Little Flower.

Me

Who is this?

Unknown

Take a guess, angel. By the way, you look beautiful.

Me

Are you watching me? Creep.

Three dots appear and then disappear. I glance around my room in panic. My head whips to my window, but the curtains are closed. Oh shit. I forgot about the last picture he sent me.

“Do you have a camera in here?” I yell, sitting in silence, unsure if I even want a response.

“Hello? You know this is an invasion of privacy? This is illegal!” Not that it's anything different from what he's already done to me. I wave my hands in the air, looking everywhere for a camera, but come up with nothing. I put both middle fingers up and wave them around.

“You creep! Thank you for being nice to me, but it doesn't excuse this!” Another ping pulls my attention to my lap.

Unknow