Daniel Anthony
Westburn was born January 14th 1968, at least according to his driver's license.
I also may have changed one or two of the details. I can't let you guys have
all the fun. The point here is that I have his driver's license. And he knows
it.
For a private
investigator he is not subtle. There were days during the dark months - I'm
calling them the dark months because "those two months where I went
cannibalistically crazy and tried to kill everyone" is a little too long -
when I could see Mr. Westburn clear as day, just staring at
me. And he had the nerve to wave at me. He wanted me to know he was watching me
and it worked. I mean, I got so paranoid that I…
Well you’ve read what was going through my head
during those dark months. They weren’t pretty.
I vowed to get my
revenge and that revenge has finally begun.
I returned to work on
Monday to a shit-ton of paperwork and a fawning Heather. I think she’s worse
when she’s trying to be nice to me. It’s disturbing really. She kept coming in
every five minutes to ask me if I was alright, if I needed anything, if I was
feeling okay. It was like attending another therapy session except my urge to
kill Heather is much stronger.
So the urges are more
under control, in case you were wondering. I’m pretty much back to my usual
desires to murder my secretary to shut her up. I haven’t been able to actually
kill anyone yet but I’m getting there. It’s going to take some time.
Of course I am all for
patience but serious, my secretary needs to learn to shut up. Holy crap.
After just two days of
her incessant prattling, I was ready to burst. So when I saw Daniel Westburn
sitting across from my house yesterday, I snapped.
While I was away on my
extended vacation, I had a nice reprieve from the watchful eye of that man, and
I paid very little attention to my surroundings on the first days that followed
my return. But the minute I returned to my normal routine, he was there. Like
he could sense it.
So I called the
police.
I told them I was a
neighbour down the street and I wanted to report suspicious activity. I went on
to list some simple details about Mr. Westburn that would ensure they knew
exactly who they were about to harass.
Several hours (and a
bottle of wine with my loving husband) later, a patrol car arrived down the
block and two officers approach the car of one Daniel Westburn. They asked him
for identification, he gave it and after a few brief words, he was left to his
own devices. As I knew he would be. I caught his eye after the officers walked
away and I waved.
Early this morning, he was still out there so
I made him a cup of coffee, and went out to talk to him. I apologized for
calling the police, I feared I had a stalker. Would he please accept this
coffee as an apology? He didn’t say a word, nor did he accept the coffee so of
course it ended up spilling onto his lap. Oops.
I then, of course,
tried to help him clean up but he pushed me away with a grunt – he doesn’t talk
much, does he? – so I went back inside. Not before swiping his wallet while he
was distracted (I knew where he kept it after all).
So now I’m sitting
here, getting ready for work, and I thought I’d share this little victory with
you. How excited are you for the coming weeks?
We’re going to even
the playing field with Mr. Daniel Anthony Westburn.
As always, dear
readers,
Stay Safe
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