Stalker

"Someone should go and see her," Cathy said, looking around the office and hoping for a volunteer. A silence greeted her as the other workers looked uncomfortably from one to another.

"What's the point? They say she doesn't recognize anyone," a girl who sat in the far corner interjected. "Anyway, let's be honest, she wasn't one of us, was she?"

"That's true," someone answered before looking guiltily down at her keyboard.

"I saw her talking to Jenny, from accounts, last week in the corridor, maybe she was her friend?" Another girl glanced around for confirmation from the others.

"I was there. She was asking for change, that's all," Cathy answered, before she, too, stared down at her desk.

"We should have noticed something was wrong," Cathy eventually continued. "The way she stared at the cubicle in the corner as if someone was there, I thought it was strange. It was as if she could see someone we couldn't."

"Well, she's not seeing anyone now, according to the manager. He went to see her yesterday, said she was just a vegetable now," a voice came from the far side of the room, followed by a nervous laugh.

"That's fuckin' cruel," Cathy shouted back, momentarily surprised by the vehemence in her own voice. "The manager needn't act all concerned now, it was him who put all the pressure on her, just because he wanted a friend of his to get her job. We should have done something about that. We all saw it, didn't we?"

"We didn't do anything because as long as he was picking on her he wasn't picking on us," a voice answered sagely. An uncomfortable silence followed before the voice continued. "It's true, isn't it. Management pick on one person to victimize and the rest of us let it happen, as long as it isn't one of us. That bastard in the office fucked with her mind and we all saw it and did nothing. We are all to blame."

"Hey, it's not my fault," a girl shouted as she rose to her feet aggressively. "She should never have come here. She was a village girl coming to the big city and she couldn't cope, that's all."

"Look after number one, eh Jane?" someone answered.

"Too fuckin' true," the girl continued. "It's 'dog eat dog' here, we all know that."

"Yeah, but did Jessica," Cathy whispered to herself as the clicks from the keyboards signalled the start of another day.

* * *

Icy fingers, like those of an expert pianist caressing his keys, caused a chill to run down her spine. Jessica gazed around the office, peering over the top of her monitor and feeling once again that she was losing track of her life. For the past few weeks she had felt as if she was being watched. They weren't the usual casual workplace glances, but a sustained attack which bored into her head and somehow exposed her innermost thoughts and feelings. She experienced a sensation of someone invading her memories, exploring, extracting and manipulating them so that when they were returned they were somehow different... Recollections of events that had once been solid and real began to feel vague and indistinct, as if they had happened to someone else, or had been recounted several times, the order changing and the meaning lost as they often do after many retellings.

Although she had barely spoken to her fellow workers she knew all of them by sight. The only newcomer was a tall, nondescript man who had joined the firm about a month previously. She had never spoken to him, and in fact she had never seen him interact with anyone, but he was almost always there, sitting in the corner at his terminal, the top of his head just visible over his screen.

She was due a break and in the few seconds it took to retrieve her handbag she noticed he had gone. She hesitated. The room housing the coffee machine was at the end of the corridor and she momentarily felt isolated from the rest of the office. Slowing her steps she debated whether to forgo her break and return to her position rather than find herself alone with him.

Hearing a woman's voice, she relaxed and entered the room. Cathy was retrieving a partly filled cup from the machine. "They must make a fuckin' fortune from this," she exclaimed angrily. "It never gives you more than half a cup." She peered into the depths of the plastic container as if willing it to magically expand and then smiled ruefully. "Sorry about my language. It's just so annoying."

Jessica began to wonder if that was the first time Cathy had spoken to her. She doubted it, but couldn't recall any other conversations. While she searched in her purse for change, Cathy left and she realized she was alone in the room. She glanced about nervously, suddenly noticing how, despite the bright lights, the room had taken on a sinister edge.

Unable to stay there any longer she returned to the office and heard a voice raised above the clicks of the keyboards. "Hey, Jessica! We're signing a petition to get that bloody machine fixed. You want to sign it?"

She walked on until she realized she was being spoken to. Yes, that was her name. Jessica...she'd almost forgotten.

She turned and took the proffered clipboard, scribbling her signature under the others. She doubted it would have any effect as it had been that way for years. Had she been here for years? She struggled to remember, although she couldn't recall being anywhere else. Home to office, then back again. That had been her life and trying to recall anything else was difficult, almost impossible.

She tried to recall what she did yesterday. The usual routine of being at work and then going home. And the days before that? The answer was the same. As she delved into her memories trying to find something, anything, that didn't involve work or her small apartment she felt his presence again. He was probing, searching, just as she was, for a small part of her life that was different, an almost forgotten friend or an incident, anything that could give her life meaning.

Her memories had become like dreams: vague, indistinct, like looking at the world through an opaque window. Movement, light and shadows... all there but impossible to make sense of, until at last they drifted over an imagined horizon and out of reach forever.

The others began shuffling about as the clock ticked towards finishing time and freedom from the office beckoned. Everyone, that is, except Jessica. She glanced across the room and saw him there once more, his head visible above the computer monitor and she hurried to be part of the exodus. By the time she reached the door and noticed his empty chair, her fear caused her to quicken her pace, desperate to be part of the crowd and the safety in numbers.

Lately, she had started parking her car in the public car park rather than the one provided by her employer. The thought of having to retrieve her car alone from that dark and forbidding place made her break out into a sweat.

She felt his presence again as she unlocked her ageing Ford and quickly scanned the car park, at last spotting his head above the roof of a black Volvo. Her fears had been confirmed; he was waiting for her. She dropped her keys from trembling hands and cringed at the loud jangling noise as they hit the tarmac. She was tempted to retrieve them, but to do so meant she would lose sight of him, so she left them where they were and began to back away between the rows of cars and towards the brightly lit road and the passersby.

She didn't hear the car reversing, and nor did he see her until the collision. The previously empty car park was suddenly full of people, eager to offer advice or simply stare at the prone figure. She opened her eyes slowly, but the pain almost caused her to close them again quickly. She saw him. Partly hidden behind a group of ghoulish onlookers, the top of his head was just visible.

The pain made it difficult to concentrate on the almost unintelligible words that bounced about inside her head. She was aware of the young doctor talking to her and trying to keep her calm. Jessica tried to focus on his lips in order to make some sense of what he was saying but her eyes were distracted. There in the background, behind a low screen, she saw the top of his head. He began to move into view just as the clear contents of a small syringe were pumped slowly into her vein.

Jessica looked around. The blackness that surrounded her was almost complete, but not quite. She felt him, not vague or indistinct this time but beside her, and as she turned, the top of his head rose up from the floor until, at last, she was able took into his eyes and he took what remained of Jessica away forever.