Stalking part 3. We knew he knew he was one of us.

Passport photo of me at 14 years old
A teenage stalker

Please Note: This blog does not in any way advocate stalking!

It was a Wednesday in autumn when we first decided to follow him home. He’d been getting popular at school. The traitor! We’d never actually talked to him, but we knew he knew he was one of us.  Now damn it he was beginning to betray us, finding other friends. We had to take action!

We both bunked our last lessons that Wednesday, spent the time wondering round Erith market looking suspicious. We returned to the school gates at five to 4. It was a large school with 2000 students, a lot of them spending time hanging round the school gates, so we weren’t conspicuous. He came out on his own, late, head down, hands in pockets of a well designed overcoat, looking very much alone. We felt a little waft of emotion, he was one of us! Though the overcoat did suggest a level of expensive fashion that we could, despite our shop-lifting escapades, never hope to meet.

We were quite good at stalking. You might think that as teenage school girls we’d be all giggly and silly. We weren’t, we were taking it very seriously. Barely talking to each other at all, just nods and eyebrows.

He walked fast. Down the small roads and alley ways that cover Northumberland Heath. We had to almost jog to keep up with him. It was only because he stopped to get a coke from a grocers that me managed to keep on his track, though Sasha, red faced and gasping for breath, almost gave us away outside the store . We pretended to be fascinated by the marrows. They were big.

On and on he went, till I didn’t know where we were. It was posher than Erith, big houses and large trees lining the roads. He turned a corner into a wide quiet street full of detached houses, and vanished.

We were exhausted, Sasha was almost bent double wheezing and I was feeling very light headed. It was about 6 o’clock and quite dark, we had missed our usual post school activity of stuffing spaghetti hoops in front of horror movies at Sasha’s. We needed replenishment. So it was agreed we’d continue the hunt the following night but right now what we needed was an extra large Mars Bar each and some Nightmare on Elm Street.

To be continued…

Stalking part 2. The Lust of Teenage Girls

Part 1. A Bit of Old Fashioned Stalking

Part 4.With thunderbirds



3 thoughts on “Stalking part 3. We knew he knew he was one of us.”

  1. When I was 16 I obsessed for a whole year over a girl whom i probably would have never had a chance with or in reality not much in common with and besides, she was from the rich part of town and my bus went the other way and I had such a bad stuttering problem that I rarely ever spoke so would most surely make a fool out of myself if I approached her.
    She looked like Olivia Newton John superficially, so contrary to my then usual diet of Led zeppelin and Yes , I bought all of Olivia Newton John’s albums on cassette, which i payed for with quarters i stole from a coke machine i had access to. I would lay there in bed at night listening to Olivia purring about love on my walkman, and she was Christine, appearing to me in cascades of light, this girl i obsessed over and knew little about.

    i’d pass her nervously in the school halls, give a robot HI and stare if encountered, her having no idea that in my world she was also Olivia Newton John and that i wrote reams of poetry about her. Consequently i was the nerd guy all the jock boys in school would come to get me to write love poems so they could give to their girlfriends pretending they wrote them. Christine never got any love letters from me, but all the cheerleaders did.

    As the year advanced I got a car from the money I’d earned cutting lawns. It was a beautiful machine. a 1973 Firebird. It looked like its name and it drove like a rocket. too much cool thing for a 16 year old boy. vrooom. I was just getting into new wave and punk, didnt have many friends in a high school of 2000 except the few other outsiders who got me into that music. One of my favourite discoveries from this exotic wave of new music i was listening to was Avalon by Roxy Music. Still probably one of the most romantic albums ever – it replaced Olivia, and then now I was the one singing. I fancied myself as bryan ferry, or more ferry was singing how i felt. How could Christine resist.

    I discovered where she lived and i drove there one eveing to her part of town, quite some distance away and as I got closer my heart beat faster and i was amazed at how big and grand the houses were becoming. I lived with a single mother of two kids in relatively trashy consequences and this girl was living in a Castle.
    Here I was seriously stalking, past midnight, driving around her neighborhood, Roxy Music playing ‘more than this, you know there’s nothing’.
    I still remember the rush, the fear, the excitement of being close to where she lived, knowing inside she was sleeping. Finally I turned off the car and went and sat outside under tree in her garden, scared a light would come on and her parents would come out and she would wake up and see me, but I didnt care. I was consumed, and there was a wreckless, sabotage to get results side of me that probably wanted all that to happen.

    My story doesnt get much more exciting than that except that if I did that now as an adult I would most certaintly be stalking technically and it only just occured to me that I wrote something under the tree in her garden and that amazingly enough I have it, here, in a book which I just got down from the mezzanine from to fetch.

    In the midst of night all save my blood was still
    She wouldnt welcome a strangers intrusion
    not even if flanked by love
    so alone i stood, consuming her air

    Round her fortress I strolled
    admiring the architecture of entrancement
    for it was not the brick i loved, but what it withheld
    I felt lost in a scenario that I myself had built
    I was the architect that entranced me so

    Daft poetry, but im amazed I still had it with me to referance. I finally did speak to her the last day of school. Maybe because it was the last day of school when everyones more relaxed and so I was more relaxed and this was my last chance so I walked around the back of the classroom and stumbled over a few chairs landing precariously into the one next to her and she turned around to me and I stuttered out, will you go out with me sometime.
    She was nice, she knew I liked her alot, but she explained to me how she really liked one of the guys on the football team but that he had a drinking problem, and for about 5 minutes I heard all about this guys drinking problem.

    and that was that, not the most interesting story, but you reminded me

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