Danger

When I first moved here, I had no furniture for nearly three weeks. The first day I moved here, there were flowers inside my apartment.  They were sent by a good friend.  I wondered how someone got in to put them on the counter.

Then after the first week or so, I came into the apartment to find a table and chairs and a tv on the floor.  There was no note.

Things progressed like that for a while.  Then there were comments he made.

"Are you rich?" he said.

I blew it off.

There were more comments.

"You are hot," he said.

Again, I ignored it.

My three foot level disappeared from my closet.  He rarely came prepared when he came to my apartment to fix things.  I asked if he borrowed the level.  He denied it.

Over time the comments increased.  He wanted to know if I would date him.  I laughed it off.

Then neighbors began telling me someone was knocking on their door at night.  Things were missing from their apartment.  Beds were ruffled up.  Dirty underwear appeared in their washing machine.  And more things. He was here all the time.  Supposedly working.

He began to know when I was out.  He would meet me in the hall, the garage, the elevator.  I began to wonder more.  I felt alienated.

One night, someone entered my apartment.  I panicked.

Then the urine stains appeared on the dogs' beds.  On my sofa.  My dogs do not urinate in the house.

Tomorrow I will go to the police.  I think he is a voyeur. The maintenance man. I am in danger.