You're Pretty

It started with a cracker underneath my doormat.
I was confused, staring, wondering why someone would even put a cracker there. Nobody in their right mind would do that. Nonetheless, I unlocked the door to my apartment and walked in, looking around. Nothing else was out of the ordinary, so I decided to look up the significance of this cracker. Turns out, it was because someone was wanting to break in. I may have been broke at the time, but I wasn't taking chances, so I swept away the crumbs and bought a video camera. I thought this plan was foolproof. 
The next day, I set up my video camera and went to work. As soon as I returned, however, I noticed something was wrong. The camera was broken, its pieces scattered across my mat. As I turned the doorknob, I noticed it was loose. I opened the door and stared around the room, shocked. Everything I owned was still there, but there were a few things that I clearly didn't remember owning: a picturesque vase filled with bright red roses, a china teapot with several teacups, and a note. The note had two words, written in red ink:
"You're pretty".
"Someone broke into my house for this?!" I yelled in disbelief. I simply threw the note away.
The next day, I woke up to notice there was something on my bedside table. Another note.
"Good morning, beautiful".
"What the hell?" I muttered as I threw the note away and began to make a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, there was another note waiting for me at the coffee maker:
"Bought you your favorite."
There was an arrow on the note pointing to the right of the coffee maker. My eyes followed the arrow to find a matcha latte from Starbucks. I rarely ever treat myself to Starbucks, so I was concerned about any drugs that may have been slipped into the drink. I ended up throwing the latte away.
Day after day, I kept getting these notes.
"Here's something for the apple of my eye."
"I got this just for you."
The most common one, however, was the same as the first:
"You're pretty."
It was nonstop. Soon, whoever was giving me these notes stopped giving food along with the notes and started giving stuffed animals as well as flowers. 
"I've noticed you throw away the food and notes I give you. Why?"
I purchased an electric lock for my door. This didn't help.
"You can't fool me, darling. I always keep my eye on you"
I started keeping the notes to show the authorities. The persecutor clearly liked this.
"That's my girl."
I showed the authorities, who promised to keep a close eye out for whoever was doing this. This upset him (at least I assume it's a him).
"I know what you did."
From then on, I only got two different sayings on the notes: "I know what you did," and "you're pretty."
I was talking to my friends during our lunch break at work, who were concerned. We were discussing what to do when a boy that looked about six years old walked up with his mother and pointed at me. 
"Look at her, mommy! She's so pretty!"
The word "pretty" rang through my ears as the mother frantically apologized, saying that he was just a little kid and that we didn't need to worry about it. I explained that I just felt uncomfortable being called pretty. The mother's eyes grew wide.
"You got them too, didn't you?"
Weeks went by as this woman and I shared the notes that we had received. We wanted to show whoever was doing this that we did not approve of what they were doing. We both got more notes.
"Stop."
"I know what you are up to."
"You're too beautiful to be doing this."
"You're pretty."
We began to feel more and more unsafe. The woman offered me to move in with her. We didn't know what this person was trying to do, but we knew it wasn't good for us.
I remember waking up, startled, in a dark room. There was a numbered tag around my neck. 01. I took it off as I looked around the room. Pastel pink walls. Lemon yellow carpet. A metal door with a slot. Teddy bears everywhere. I didn't know where I was, but I knew one thing. This wasn't my apartment, nor was this the house of the woman who tried to help. I didn't know how I got here. I saw a poster on the hideous wall.
"Rules:
1. Remember you're pretty.
2. Use the computer to look at news sites only. No social media.
3. No leaving the room.
Enjoy your stay."
I know I am going to be in severe trouble for this, but at least I can tell you what to do in a situation like this: run like hell. Get as far away as possible. Whoever is doing this knows what they're doing and enjoys this. I don't know if it's just women, so I'm letting everyone know. I hear footsteps coming down the hall now, so I must stop and post this before I leave.
Category:Beings
Category:Items/Objects