She's so pretty.

Her pretty, pretty hair and her blue, blue eyes. She drives me crazy.

I want her.

No, no, no.

I need her.

I need to run my fingers through her pretty, pretty hair, and I need to look into her blue, blue eyes. I need to hear her screaming for me.

No one else.

But, do I want to scare her? Will she love me, like I love her?

I don't think so.

So, I'll just have to wait.

But… how long will I wait?

That depends.


Her smile is pretty too.

It's light and beautiful and makes my chest throb.

I think I love her.

I need her by my side so bad. I can't wait anymore—I won't wait anymore.

I know what I want.

I will have it.


I took her today. She screamed for me, and cried for me, and begged for me.

She must love me too.

I took her to my house, I told her we're going to live there, together.

Forever and ever.

She cried.

I smiled.


She withered and cried under me. I was right, she's very pretty. Every about her is pretty, pretty as she laid beneath me, staining my pillow with her tears.


Her pretty, pretty voice says something very dirty.

"I hate you."

It makes me mad. Very, very mad. She shouldn't hate me, she should love me. But she doesn't, and her blue, blue eyes aren't as pretty anymore, as she looks at me with them.

They're not supposed to look like that.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

She won't stop.

I'm getting madder.

"Stop." I repeat, but she won't fucking stop!


She's not stopping! She just keeps looking at me… looking down on me. Her mean, dirty words repeat in my head 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…'

I cover her mouth, she won't stop saying it. She tries to scream and bites at my hand, and breaks the skin, and it drips all over her face, and her blue, blue eyes look at me… look at me with fear.

She's scared. She's so, so scared. I feel strong. It's such a good feeling. To be empowered. It's like being the king of the world. I giggle and her eyes widen as she starts flailing her arms, trying to push me off.

I'm not letting go though. I'm never letting go. I tighten my hold and she tries to scream, but I'm not letting her scream. I'm in control. I stare into her eyes, her eyes… they're scared. But, it's still pretty.

And her arms fell to her sides in a funny way, and her pretty, pretty eyes are blank.

But, no matter.

They're still so pretty.

And now, they won't change. They'll never look down on me and her voice… it can never say mean and dirty things. Like 'I hate you.'

I moved my hands from her face, and sat there, staring at her. How long had it been since I'd been staring? Who knows.

I touched her face and ran my fingers across her lips, smearing my blood all over her face, feeling the heat fading from her skin, and noticing the brightness in her eyes had dulled...

But she's still so pretty.


This is my attempt to write something dark. My other oneshot is supposed to be a tragic onesided love, this one is from the point of a stalker. A rapist to be more specific. He becomes obsessed with a girl, and "falls in love with her". It's not really love though, it's an obsession. This may sound "creepy" but I find the human mind very interesting and I wish I could see the way people think, 'cause people are definitely interesting. :)

Reviews are nice, and maybe another person with a twisted mind would give me their opinion, and start up a conversation :)

Oh, and ©

Please review.