MY STALKER IS MY SECRET GUARDIAN

AURORA CROSS The food is still warm in Shadow’s bowl. I watch as he eats in silence, ears always alert, snout attentive to every movement. It’s as if he knows — always knows — what’s coming before I do. I adopted Shadow when I couldn’t bear to be afraid alone anymore. After my parents died, I spent years living with the constant feeling of being watched. And then came the anonymous letters. They slid under the door. Appeared between the pages of my books. Always handwritten. Always signed by no one. They told me I was safe. That I was being watched. That someone was protecting me. And for a while… I believed. Until the weight of obsession became a prison. That’s when I left it all behind. Changed cities, phone numbers, and my name. I chose this simple apartment in an old building, but with good locks. I thought that would be enough. I thought the letters had stopped. For a while, they actually did. The silence was so deep I almost started to believe I had imagined it all. Until today. Shadow licks the bottom of the bowl eagerly. I pet his head, my fingers sinking into his thick fur, dark as pitch. He’s my safe harbor. If he’s calm, I pretend I am too. But tonight, there’s something in the air. A weight. An invisible vibration that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I walk to the living room window. The street below is quiet, drowned in bluish hues of dawn. The streetlights still work. No cars. No sound but the hum of the sleeping city. Even so… I feel it before I see it. I close the curtain. Three a.m. When I turn around, there’s an envelope on the living room floor. My muscles freeze. Shadow doesn’t growl. But he lifts his head, alert. I lock every door. Always. My hand trembles as I bend down. The envelope is thick. No sender. No stamp. The handwriting is unmistakable. It’s the same as the last letter. “You left the window open today. The latch was broken. I fixed it for you. Good night, Aurora.” The letter slides to the floor, but the words still burn inside me. My eyes scan every corner of the room. Nothing seems out of place — but everything feels wrong. I’m alone. But I’m not. As much as my mind screams danger… …my heart only asks one thing: Did you come back? And then, the lamp flickers. Once. Twice. And goes out. The power cuts with a dry snap. The house plunges into complete darkness. “No… no…” Shadow jumps to his feet, tense. But he doesn’t bark. My breathing quickens. I rush to the kitchen drawer, opening it in panic, almost ripping the handle off. Desperate touch until I find the flashlight. When I turn it on, the light is weak, shaky, but better than nothing. The walls now seem narrower. The silence heavier. Phone. Where’s my phone? I run to the couch, feeling around the cushions until I find it. I tap the screen — no signal. The battery had died earlier, and I, as always, forgot to charge it. “Great, Aurora.” Shadow stands at the door. Staring at the hallway. My throat tightens. The flashlight beam dances across the apartment. Balcony door closed. Window locked. Everything as I left it. My heart pounds fast, each beat like a punch to my chest. I decide to leave. I turn the doorknob slowly. The building hallway is drowned in darkness too. No emergency light, no sign of life in the other apartments. Everyone must be out. Shadow wants to follow me, but I stop him with a firm gesture. If something happens, I need him inside. With me. Guarding the entrance. “Stay here,” I whisper. He obeys. Reluctantly. I step outside. The gray hallway walls feel closer in the dark. I point the flashlight toward the stairs, then to the neighboring doors. Everything silent. No lights on. No TV sounds. Nothing. I knock on the next door. Nothing. I go down one more floor and see no one. My skin burns. The feeling of being watched grows with every step. I look back, toward my door, upstairs. Shadow is sitting, still, like a living shadow. Only his eyes shine. Suddenly, the air shifts. A cold breeze — impossible, since all the windows are closed — brushes my neck. I spin the flashlight fast, but see nothing. Nothing. And still, I know. I know I’m not alone. I go down one more flight, almost by impulse. A metallic creak echoes from the end of the corridor. I spin the light. No presence. No movement. Someone was here. Maybe still is. I run back. I climb the stairs as if the ground behind me is about to collapse. Shadow is still there, waiting for me. When I enter, he follows me back to the living room. No questions. No judgment. Just his presence. And his trust. I lock every lock. Reinforce with the extra bolt. The letter is still on the floor. I touch the window latch. It’s fixed. Just like he promised. “Good night, Aurora.” “Anyone would think I’m going crazy, right?” I ask, touching his head before going to the bedroom. I put on my favorite pajamas and lie in bed, feeling Shadow do the same beside me. I close my eyes and it doesn’t take long before sleep finally finds me. 13 YEARS EARLIER The smell of smoke was the first thing I noticed. I turn my head, feeling the scent grow stronger and warm air surrounding me. I open my eyes, terrified as I look around. Everything is on fire. Smoke is already invading my room. Coughing hard, I pull my shirt over my face and crawl toward the door. Pain invades my lungs with every breath. There are flames everywhere and I run, trying to dodge them. "Mom? Dad?!" I shout over the sound of fire burning through the wood. I keep running and coughing. Flames lick the ceiling and the pictures on the walls melt like wax. My parents' bedroom door is closed. Locked from the inside. The banging is coming from there. "Mom!" I scream again, trying the doorknob. I burn my hand. The skin burns, but I don't let go. "Dad! Open up! I'm here!" "Run, Aurora! Get out!" I hear my father's muffled voice from the other side. He pounds on the door. My mother is crying. "We love you!" "I'm not leaving you!" I scream, desperate. Part of the ceiling crashes behind me with a loud bang. The left wall is already in flames. The wood cracks and groans. The door is burning and I push with all my strength, hands bleeding, screaming as if pain could clear the way. Smoke takes over everything. My eyes can barely see. The heat is unbearable. My parents are screaming from the bedroom window, but they can’t get out. "We love you, baby! Run! Please!" I sob, cough. Every attempt to breathe hurts more than the last. And still, I can’t leave. My legs won’t move. My parents are right there. “No! Please!” I cry, pulling the door, trying to open it one more time. It’s hotter now and I scream from the pain, but I don’t give up. "Aurora! Run!" They scream. I hear them burning alive. The heat is unbearable. I’m going to die too. I try but I can’t — I cough again before growing weak and falling to the floor, feeling the fire almost reach me. When my eyes can no longer stay open, I hear the sound of shattering glass. Rushing footsteps. Someone breaks through the smoke. Strong arms wrap around me. “You’re going to be okay, Aurora,” the voice says, deep and calm. “I promise.” I’m lifted into their arms, carried away from the inferno. And before I pass out, I see the reflection of golden eyes watching me through the smoke. After that, the hospital. A white room. A thin blanket. A police officer asking questions. “Do you know who pulled you out?” No. I never saw his face. I can only remember parts of it and his golden eyes. He didn’t seem human, but maybe it was just the fire making me see things that didn’t exist. No one would believe me if I said something supernatural saved me that night. I was just a child. But the letters came later. One by one, every year, like whispers from a protective ghost. I wake up screaming. Sweat runs down my back. My breath is short, uneven. My eyes take time to understand I’m at home. In the apartment. 11:00 PM now. But that night still visits me as if it never left. Shadow jumps on the bed, fur bristled, growling low at the door. “Hey, it’s okay,” I whisper, stroking his head. My heart still beats like it’s about to explode. But it’s not okay. The power still hasn’t returned. The blackout in the building continues. I grab the flashlight, trying to ignore the chill down my spine. I leave the apartment with Shadow by my side. The hallway is completely dark. No light comes from the other apartments. I go down the first steps carefully. Shadow walks ahead, alert, as if he senses something too. That’s when my foot slips. I try to grab onto something, but it’s too late. I fall. I roll down the stairs, the flashlight flying from my hands. I hit my head. The world spins. Shadow barks desperately. I can’t open my eyes. My forehead throbs and everything hurts. I feel Shadow’s tongue licking me and seconds later I hear footsteps approaching. My mind screams for me to open my eyes, but I can’t. I feel a hand on my face. A firm, warm touch. “You’re more stubborn than I thought,” the voice says, muffled by my fading consciousness. I try to see the face, but the pain is too much. I black out. When I wake up, the room is lit by the gray light of morning. The blackout still continues. Shadow is lying beside me, alert. I reach for my head. There’s a bandage there. Small. Professional. My heart races. On the nightstand, a new note. Familiar and disturbingly gentle handwriting. “It wasn’t a deep cut. You’ll be fine. Try to be more careful. I can’t always get here this fast.” I run to the door. Locked. From the inside. As always. I throw it open, heart pounding. The hallway is empty. No sound. No shadow. But the smell of smoke still lingers in my nose. And the memory of that voice echoes. “I promise.” Shadow nudges my foot. I look at him. The blue collar, the same one I bought when I found him on the street, months ago, after the first letter in this new apartment. I gave him a name that night. Shadow. Because he was like the one who always watched me. Invisible, but present. And because, in a twisted, strange way… part of me felt I was never truly alone.