A Day in the Life of a Love-Sick Stalker

I am watching. 
I know everything about you. From your hobbies, dislikes, preferences, all of it I know. 
I am watching. 
Every breath you make, you can count on me to be staring, fixated on you. I watch you every night as you sleep, never faltering my gaze. I count each time your chest lifts with each inhale, and lowers when you exhale. And I know the exact time you get up at midnight to go and get some food, when you get hungry. 
I am watching. 
I see you as you rush to finish your college work. I can see the look of complete concentration in your face. I look with unwavering eyes as you clench your hair with your fist, as you focus intently on your paper. And I see the look of relief when you finally finish. I smile, as seeing you triumphant brings me joy. Your happiness is my happiness. 
I am watching. 
I long for you to look at me. For you to smile your crooked, perfect smile at me. ME. You are just so intoxicating for me. God, I only wish for you to put your dainty, little arms around my neck in an embrace. I dream for your eyes to twinkle in happiness upon seeing me, the same way I do for you. 
I am watching. 
I observe with great concentration as you make your breakfast. Today must be a good day as you are making your favorite, French Toast. Specifically, French Toast with extra syrup, no butter, and Confectioner’s sugar sprinkled on it. I need to make sure I know of everything you like. I can’t have you in any distress. Any pain will be eliminated. 
I am watching. 
I listen when you sing by yourself in your house. You like to dance, and you often turn on a song and burst into dance and song. It’s not very good, but to me, it’s perfect. Everything ABOUT you is perfect. To your curves, to your well-defined cheekbones, to your eyes that sparkle like crystals, even to your feet. I just can’t get enough of you. You are like a drug to me. Sometimes I wonder if you know I’m there. I think you do. Ever since that one time. That one day I went into your house because you forgot to lock the door. I recall that I wanted to do your chores for you. So I decided to clean your dishes. I remember I licked each and every last one of your dishes till they were spotless. I couldn’t have washed your dishes, no. I had to consume every last bit of saliva left from you. Every last bit. None of it could be wasted. You were far too precious to be washed away, and so that’s why I licked it. Not only that, I remember I stacked very neatly each and every last plate, bowl, and glass. I organized every piece of silverware, to the spoons, to the forks, to the knives. Once I was done, I went and cleaned your room. Occasionally I would stop and sniff your clothes, or your bedsheets. Once I was done, I went out the window, just in time for you to walk in. I went and watched you from outside the kitchen window as your face turned from confusion, to panic, to fear, and I listened as you let out a blood-curdling scream. I didn’t know why you did that. I still don’t. But that doesn’t matter anymore. 
I am watching. 
With a piercing gaze I watch from inside your closet. I left it a creak open, just enough for me to watch you. I stared as you sluggishly got changed, and I couldn’t tell you were exhausted. As I observe you with a watchful eye, I clench my hand around the handcuffs and rohypnol infused handkerchief I had brought with me. I spot one of your sweaters, and I grab it, taking a big whiff, relishing in your scent. I notice as you flop on your bed, it in return creaks in the process. You snuggle under the cover. I smile, as you won’t be needing those covers anymore. I wait for you to fall asleep. I wait with profound patience. I wait, and wait, and wait. And then when your breathing has slowed and soft snores could be heard, I will tip-toe with great caution to your sleeping form. I look with lust as you start to stir (you always were a light-sleeper). You open your tired eyes, and I will see my reflection in them. I watch as fear flashes in your eyes, as realization hits you. You open your mouth to scream, but I muffle it with the drug laced handkerchief. You claw your hand onto mine, attempting to get away but you fail. I watch with joy as your eyes droop and your oh-so-perfect body goes limp. I pick you up and at long last, carry you to the place where you belong, away from people and civilization. Nobody else will ever have you, ever again. 
For I am always watching. 
Category:Weird