Schizophrenia or stalker

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Jake's fingers hovered over the keyboard as he read the message from the unknown number

Stranger:
"Hey there."

Jake:
"Hey, who is this?"

Stranger:
"Just someone who wants to get to know you."

Jake:
"Do I know you?"

Stranger:
"Maybe. Or maybe not. Let's just chat."

Jake:
"Alright. What do you want to talk about?"

Stranger:
"Anything. Tell me about your day."

Jake:
"Classes, homework, the usual. What about you?"

Stranger:
"Not so same here. But I'd rather hear more about you. What do you do for fun?"

Jake:
"I like listening to music, hanging out with friends. You?"

Stranger:
"I enjoy meeting interesting people. And you seem very interesting,"

Jake smiled slightly, feeling a bit flattered.

Jake:
"Thanks, I guess."

Stranger:
"So, what kind of music do you like?"

Jake:
"Mostly pop and some korean stuff. You?"

Stranger:
"I love anything with a good beat. Maybe one day we could share playlists?"

Jake:
"Maybe."

Stranger:
"You know, I've seen your pictures. You're really handsome,"

Jake's heart skipped a beat.

Jake:
"You've seen my pictures? Where?"

Stranger:
"Online. You have a nice smile."

Jake:
"Thanks. So, what do you look like?"

Stranger:
"Maybe you'll find out someday. For now, let's keep the mystery," 

Jake:
"Alright, mystery person. What else should I know about you?"

Stranger:
"Just that I think you're fascinating. And I'd love to get to know you better,"

Jake blushed, his interest piqued.

Jake:
"Well, I guess we'll see where this goes."

Stranger:
"Looking forward to it. Sweet dreams, Jake,"

As Jake closed his laptop, he couldn't help but feel a strange thrill. Little did he know, the person on the other end was far more interested in him than he could ever imagine.

Jake's dream began with him as a child, running through a sunlit field. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the soft grass beneath his feet. Laughter echoed around him, and he turned to see his beloved aunt, her smile bright and comforting. She was everything to him-kind, nurturing, and always there when he needed her.

Suddenly, the scene shifted. The sun vanished, replaced by an overcast sky. Fear gripped young Jake as he saw his aunt standing in front of a menacing figure. The figure raised a gun, and Jake's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to scream, to run to her, but his legs wouldn't move.

A deafening shot rang out. His aunt collapsed to the ground, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Jake's legs finally obeyed him, and he ran to her, dropping to his knees beside her lifeless body. He screamed and cried, his small hands shaking as he tried to wake her up. The grass beneath them turned red with her blood.

As he sobbed over his aunt's body, the scene shifted again. He found himself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with sorrow. Two bodies lay before him, their faces obscured but unmistakably his parents. A cold dread washed over him. He knew they were gone, just like his aunt. The weight of the loss was suffocating.

Jake's breathing quickened, and his chest tightened. He felt trapped in a nightmare from which he couldn't escape. The images of his aunt and parents blurred together, their lifeless forms haunting him.

With a jolt, Jake woke up, his body drenched in sweat. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to his mind. The room was dark and silent, but the vivid images of his dream lingered. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to steady his racing heart, and stared into the darkness, haunted by the memories of his lost loved ones.

Jake sat up in bed, still reeling from the nightmare. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside his window. As he tried to calm his racing heart, he heard a faint noise coming from the kitchen. His pulse quickened again, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

The noises grew louder-clattering dishes, the creak of a cabinet door, footsteps shuffling across the floor. Jake's breath hitched. He knew no one else was supposed to be in the house. The memories of his nightmare and the childhood trauma it stemmed from seemed to merge with reality.

He slid out of bed, his movements slow and cautious. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion. He'd experienced these episodes before, moments when the line between reality and hallucination blurred, and he was never sure what was real.

As he crept down the hallway, the noises in the kitchen became more distinct. A whispering voice, low and menacing, echoed through the house. Jake's heart pounded in his ears. He reached the kitchen doorway and peered inside, expecting to see an intruder.

Instead, the room was empty. The dishes were still in the sink, untouched. The cabinets were closed, and there were no signs of movement. But the whispering continued, growing louder and more insistent. He clutched the doorframe, his knuckles white, trying to ground himself in reality.

"You're not real," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes. "This isn't happening."

But the voices didn't stop. They seemed to swirl around him, taunting him with half-heard phrases and sinister laughter. He opened his eyes and saw shadowy figures darting at the edge of his vision, disappearing as soon as he tried to focus on them.

Jake's breathing grew erratic. He backed away from the kitchen, his mind racing. The house felt like it was closing in on him, each shadow and sound amplifying his terror. He stumbled back to his room, slamming the door behind him, but the noises followed him, relentless.

He pressed his back against the door, sliding down to the floor. His hands trembled as he buried his face in his knees, trying to block out the chaos around him. The whispers grew louder, almost deafening, and he could feel cold fingers brushing against his skin.

Tears streamed down his face as he rocked back and forth, whispering to himself, "It's not real. It's not real."

As the hours passed, Jake's fear morphed into a chilling suspicion. He recalled the recent messages from the unknown number, the stranger's flirtations, and how they seemed to know so much about him. A creeping dread settled in as he realized this wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him. Someone was watching him.

He scanned the room, his eyes darting to the windows and the corners shrouded in darkness. The sensation of being watched was overwhelming. Every creak of the house, every shadow seemed like a pair of eyes observing his every move. His phone buzzed suddenly, making him jump. It was another message from the stranger: "You're not alone."

Jake's heart pounded in his chest. He felt trapped, his own home no longer a sanctuary but a cage. The whispers in the kitchen were replaced by a deafening silence, one that felt more menacing than any noise. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting.

Suddenly his phone buzzed again and again. He took a look, the messages were from stranger "MURDERER". It kept coming. More and more, the same word. Jake screamed and threw his phone away.

Exhaustion eventually took its toll. The noises and the paranoia began to blur, his body too drained to keep up the fight. As dawn approached, he lay on the floor, too exhausted to move, the fear still gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

The morning light seeped through the window, casting a pale glow over the room. He knew the cycle would continue, the nightmares and hallucinations a constant companion. But now, there was a new layer to his torment-the undeniable reality that someone was stalking him. As the light washed over him, he hoped for a moment of peace in the aftermath of the night's terror, knowing full well that peace was something he might never find again.

He took a look at himself. He passed out right on the floor. He grabbed his head and patted his head because of the harsh headache.

"Offf..." He whined. As soon as he remembered what happened the last night he gasped and grabbed his phone to check.

There was only the chat with the stranger that they had yesterday. Nothing else. Not the "You are not alone" and the "Murderer" words. None of them were visible.

"It's my... hallucination again?..." He asked himself and got up to check around.

No one was there. Nothing strange appeared. Everything was on it's place.

"No...that wasn't schizophrenia...". He insured himself. He looked at his phone. "Something is definitely wrong"

He went to prepare himself and called Jungwon...