Saw you. One day. Walking alone. Followed you. Silent. The shape, your shadow. Followed you home. Waited. Until it was dark. Stared up at your window. Until light went out. Then I went in.

Stood at the foot of your bed. Staring down at you, sleeping. Watching. Observing. Stayed there. Did not move. Until sun came up.

Have done this many nights, now. Do not “want” or “like” things, but know to follow, to kill, and to wait. Know now to watch you, also. But do not kill you. Do not hurt. Just watch. Then leave. Then come back. To look again. See you.

Tonight, I move closer. To the side of your bed. You are sleeping. Vulnerable. Bed is small, you still take up such little space. Under your blankets. Curled up. Fragile, weak little thing. Know your name, have heard others call you it when following. Sit down on the side of your bed. Taking space you don’t fill. Keep you safe. Breathing behind my mask is quiet. Do not feel what people do. Feel that you are…not to be killed. Like…new toy. A pet. Only precious thing I have. Do own you.

Blanket has fallen to your shoulder. Know you prefer blanket bundled around your ear. Know from watching you sleep. I adjust the blanket. Back over your ear. How you like it. Fingers brush your sleeping face. Not an accident. Soft. Soft skin. So soft. Hand is gentle. First and only time it has ever been.