The Watcher

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The moon drifted lazily in the darkened Monday sky, basking in its own frozen warmth. The night was eerily quiet, not even the late summer crickets made a sound. They laid silent in the grass, waiting. Watching.

Noel crouched by the cracked bay window; his breath heavy and ragged from his long walk to her house. It didn't matter to him anymore that her house was more than eight blocks from his own. Besides, he thought wryly, it's good exercise. No one thought it suspicious to see a young man in his mid-teens walking down the sidewalk in all black. Not a single person.

He placed his pale hand in the open space of the window where it had been opened to let in cool air. His fingers touched the soft white silk of her curtains. A small moan escaped his lips at the touch of the fabric, his fingers fondled it lovingly.

‘I never pictured her the type with silk curtains. Oh, you learn something everyday.'

Biting his lip, Noel gave the window pane a quick jerk upwards and breathed a sigh of relief when it slide smoothly. A small gust of wind rustled the curtains and sent chills down his spine. He held his breathe; waiting to see if the girl would awaken.

She did not.

He continued his intrusion. Lifting one long leg in and testing the plush shag carpet for stability, Noel carefully shifted his weight and brought his other leg in.

All the air in his lungs rushed out in a sudden swish when he saw her room.

The walls were a shadowed powder blue that shone in the night. It matched not only the carpet, but the bedspread, the posters of faded rock stars on the walls, and the pillows that haphazardly fell from the bed. The white furniture stood out like an eyesore in the dark and Noel had to squint his eyes to keep his eyesight intact.

She laid there sleeping, an angel from a William Blake painting. Her long red hair fanned out on her pillow and the light blue sheets crumpled by her feet. Her little rosy mouth pursed in her sleep with an unknown dream, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her arms crossed themselves as if she were feeling cold and was trying to keep warm. Noel could hardly contain himself when he saw what she slept in.

A white nightgown that was obviously much too big for her but she insisted to still wear it. A small blue ribbon tied in the front and ivory lace frilled out from the bottom. It was cut in a scoop neck and was sleeveless with the same lace dotting the sleeves. But, what was the icing on the cake to Noel was the fact that in her sleep, the nightgown had risen to her thighs and made the matronly gown into sinful attire.

A warm sensation in his lower stomach brought Noel back to reality, his face grew red even in the dark. Gulping, he made his way across the room when a single stream of light filtered through the ajar closet door. His eyes stung from the sudden brightness and he looked away briefly.

His curiosity got the better of him and he slowly, carefully made his way to the door. His hand skimmed the cool doorknob and the hinges slowly creaked as he pushed the door. The closet was small and could only fit one person, two if needed.

Clothes hung on plastic hangers and a large heap of dirty garments laid dead in the hamper. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest. Noel's hands shook as he touched the shirt that laid on the top. Afraid of losing control of himself, his hand grazed the shirt before he quickly pulled it away. He held his own right hand as if it were a golden artifact. Noel swore to himself never to wash this hand again.

Caught up in the sheer excitement of being so close to what she had worn, Noel completely missed seeing another door. It stood there like it was normal to have another door for such a small closet. He only noticed it when he backed up into the doorknob. Slightly bewildered and thinking it was the same door that he had entered, Noel touched the doorknob to open it.

But this doorknob was not cool like the other. It was slightly warm from the touch of another human hand. Noel inhaled and opened it.

It was a room, smaller than the closet but it seemed huge due to its emptiness. But what made the room so strange was that you couldn't see the white paint of the walls at all. They were all covered by pictures, hundreds and hundreds of photos. In the sudden darkness, Noel could not make the occupants of the photos out. His hand blindly felt the wall for a light switch.

The sight nearly made him faint.

On the walls were photos all right. Photos of a familiar boy with brown hair that fell into his eyes, bright green eyes, and pale skin. Photos of him. Tons of them. All from various moments of his daily life. Little snapshots of who he was. There were ordinary pictures of him opening his locker, eating in the cafeteria, and even just walking down the hallway. The others frightened but excited him.

They were photos of him at home, out in public places, even in his own front yard. In each photo his face was away from the camera, as if he didn't know that he was being caught in the lens. Some were slightly blurred from a sudden movement and others even had leaves in the front of the photo. Like they were taken from bushes, Noel thought breathlessly.

He swallowed and turned off the light. He closed the door and swiftly made his way back out the window. He returned it to its original resting position.

The noises of the night had begun again. The wind blew and the crickets chirped unknowingly. But Noel didn't pay attention to the sounds of nature, only to the soft thump his sneakers made on the cemented sidewalk. The shallow breathes and wild jack hammer heart that beated in his chest pounded mercilessly in his ears.

Back in the house, the girl stirred. She shivered and wiped away sleep from her eyes. A small smile formed on her lips when she saw the closet lights on and the size 10 footprints on her carpet. She rose out of bed, padded to the closet and switched the lights off. Climbing back into bed, she licked her lips and snuggled deep into the covers.

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.” - Friedrich Nietzsche