Out of the blue one day, I got home and my welcome mat was empty. Relieved, I headed inside and relaxed for the first time in weeks. Maybe Brad had found a new plaything. I felt bad for whoever had to deal with him, but glad that he wasn’t my problem anymore. I slept like a baby that night. That is, until a familiar scent woke me up in the early hours of the night.
My alarm clock read 3:57 a.m., its dim red light illuminating something large sitting on my bedside table. I squinted, my blurry eyes making out the outline of a white box. Oh god, no, I thought. I jolted to my feet, and turned on the lamp. He’d been inside my home. The message on the cake wasn’t as rude as the others, yet it was somehow more unsettling than the profanity I’d grown accustom to.
“You’re beautiful when you sleep.”
It was time to take matters into my own hands. I had the bakery’s address, so I decided to head there right away. After all, bakeries were supposed to open early, right? Someone was bound to be at the store. I would explain my situation and, if they refused to cooperate, would threaten to involve police. Surely, they could get a warrant to figure out who was sending the cakes. I could have Brad arrested for harassment. I felt elated at the thought of finally being free. The law was on my side, after all.
It must have been around 5:00 a.m. when I pulled into the empty strip mall outside of town. My face twisted as I noticed the condition the building was in. It was in complete disrepair: Walls had crumbled, the foundation was cracked, windows were broken, and store signs had faded away. Just Deserts Bakery, if it had ever been in the strip mall, was long gone. I couldn’t even find a semblance of their logo on any of the store-fronts. When I got out of my car to peer into the broken building, all I could see were remnants of clothing stores and a bowling alley. There was nothing even remotely resembling a bakery.
Defeated, I headed back to my car. My heart sank as I opened the door. The sweet scent of cake came pouring out of the vehicle, emanating from a cake on the passenger’s seat.
“Die, bitch.”
