Doug looked out the front window to see a car in front of their house. Someone was inside, but he couldn't see them clearly. When he got home from work, the same car was sitting there. Carrie noticed it to, and just ambled by to get a good look. She power walked back into the house as soon as she saw who it was.

"It's Tricia?" Doug exclaimed. "What? I thought we got rid of her?"

"I guess not," Carrie said crossly. "Look, I can't take it anymore! I am willing to…ah ha!"

"What-what-what-what-what?" Doug asked. "You are not going to do something illegal are you?"

"No, but Jim across the street will," Carrie smirked, calling his number. "Jim? Yeah hi, it's Carrie from across the street. There's someone sitting outside your house in a…red Camero and they've been there all day. Could you…hello? He-llo?" Carrie called. They looked outside as Jim's screams filled the night along with the screeching of tires.

"That didn't help," Doug whispered.

"What do you mean it didn't help?"

"She'll be back."

And she was. Everyday, Carrie called Jim, and he chased her away, but she just came back. Doug finally decided to deal with it himself.

"Hi, Trish? Yeah, it's Doug. Um, my neighbor Jim called about you…sitting outside our house, and we would like to peacefully and respectfully ask you to stop, for his sake."

"But I want you!" she hissed, snapping her phone shut. Doug sighed.

"Okay, Carrie, level three," Doug sighed. Carrie smirked and got Doug out of the room. She was calling an "old friend" who owed her a favor.


In the middle of the night, a single gun shot accidentally killed Tricia. A Polaroid camera lay in the passenger seat and shoe boxes of pictures filled the backseat. The police ruled it an accident, but they knew she was a stalker.