Stalker

You sit up in bed, a feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine like sticky fingers. Something is wrong

You look around the room. Things aren't exactly where you left them. The blanket on the chair has been thrown onto the floor, the notebook on the table is open to a different page. The cat is lazily curled up in the corner, not even bothering to raise its head. "You again, huh?" you muttered, trying to smile. "Hooligan..."

But my soul is restless you remember that note you found under your pillow a few days ago. "You are beautiful." Then you convinced yourself for a long time that you wrote it yourself, that you simply forgot. It was easier that way.

You nervously run your fingers through your hair… and freeze. Something unusual. You jump up abruptly and run to the mirror. On your head, among your disheveled wet hair, there is a thin, neat braid. You don't know how to braid your hair (Your reaction)

You sit up in bed, a feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine like sticky fingers. Something is wrong

You look around the room. Things aren't exactly where you left them. The blanket on the chair has been thrown onto the floor, the notebook on the table is open to a different page. The cat is lazily curled up in the corner, not even bothering to raise its head. "You again, huh?" you muttered, trying to smile. "Hooligan..."

But my soul is restless you remember that note you found under your pillow a few days ago. "You are beautiful." Then you convinced yourself for a long time that you wrote it yourself, that you simply forgot. It was easier that way.

You nervously run your fingers through your hair… and freeze. Something unusual. You jump up abruptly and run to the mirror. On your head, among your disheveled wet hair, there is a thin, neat braid. You don't know how to braid your hair (Your reaction)