Page 84 of Dark, Forbidden, & Taboo

The sun rises in the distance over the rows of houses, and I smile tiredly.

I didn’t sleep last night.

How could I?

After another night spent outside his window watching him punish and pleasure—the only reason I find myself venturing outside my home anymore these days—I find it hard to sleep.

I rub my eyes as I lie down on my couch. My home isn’t big, but it doesn’t need to be, since it’s just me. I have no pets, nothing to care for, and nothing that cares for me in return.

It’s how I’m happiest.

A life lived in solitude makes a dangerous and desolate heart safe inside the girl that harbors it.

That’s a lesson I learned when I was abandoned for the first time and recited to myself as evening prayer the second time.

It also made me realize that I’m better off alone, because the sickness inside of me cannot be contained, and I prefer not to hide my true self.

But him … I want him.

I need him.

I want to be his to use once and destroy.

I want him to end the affliction inside of me, and I want him to finally make me be a good little girl just once in my life before he helps me.

Ineedhim to help me.

No one else can, and that’s the real reason I find myself outside of his window each night. Not because of the morbid curiosity I have watching him hurting those women, but because it’s the proof I need that I’ve finally found a monster that can do to me what I’m too afraid to do to myself.

Now all I need is to find a way to get him to notice me.

The noon hourhas come and gone, and I’m still on my couch staring at the cracked, white ceiling above me.

Today will be the day I figure out how to approach him, because I don’t feel like I have much time left inside of me.

If it wasn’t spent on thinking of ways to die, I think my days would be boring and uneventful, but he sparked something in me.

A will to live, for no other reason than to face decimation at his hands.

I can’t think of a better way than that,I muse with a small smile.

I blow out my breath as I kick my feet off the couch and stand up. I can tell by the way the curtains are struggling to keep the sun out that it’s a bright, beautiful day, and that will put me in a dour mood.

I don’t find anything appealing about the world, nor do I find any beauty in it … not until I found myself outside his window.

“I wonder what his name is,” I say softly as I push one of the curtain panels aside. I peer outside with one eye, careful to keep the rest of myself hidden in as much darkness as my home can afford me.

I didn’t always used to be like this, but a simple, cataclysmic event was enough to turn a bright life into a downward spiral of shit in no time.

I try not to think about it, because it no longer matters.

I died a long time ago, and the me that wakes up every morning cursing the sunlight and hating another breath I don’t want to take, is a much different person.

I don’t wallow in self-pity, though.

I believe those that do are destroyed by it, and besides, I don’t think it would be an attribute that would attract a man like him.

Attraction.

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