Apparently, my brain decided that it’s nearly the end of the month, and that I needed to finish things that I want to submit for publication AS QUICKLY AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.

Granted, I don’t mind it. I had two things that were due by June — one I’ve finished an am awaiting some beta feedback, and another that I’m working on currently. I had written a piece aptly titled “It Takes a Very Steady Hand” for The Real LJ Idol’s Exhibit A. It was the same piece that got me booted from the competition — but it was very much a solid piece of writing. The Exhibit A Crowd was just not the same as the Main Competition Crowd, where psychological horror and gore were not only accepted, but very well-received. Exhibit A Crowd? Not so much, apparently… 

Either way, I decided to expand it for a Spatterpunk anthology (hey, worth a shot, right?). I wanted to show more of the stalking process, how the narrator slips further and further into insanity, and then expand the torture/love making scene (I left the love-making out in the Idol piece, but let me tell you, it’s there). This piece was originally loosely based off of Savin’s knife and bloodplay kinks, but I’m playing a little with the voice, here. 

And now that I’ve babbled enough…

There’s a man who lives in the house across from my own. I don’t know his name.

This man is young. Early twenties, maybe a little older. Beautiful, dirty blonde hair. Pristine complexion — full lips, cute little nose. Eyes as clear as the edges of the ocean, moving into a deeper blue towards the center.

He doesn’t know I exist. He also doesn’t know that the moment he moved in, I’ve been looking out my window, all in the vain hope to catch just another glimpse of him. Innocent at first. After all, I was just curious about him. A kid as young as him, living on his own? No partner to speak of? Unheard of in this day and age, even though I myself broke out on my own at around the same age.

I haven’t been so bold as to go talk to him. As much as I want to, I’m not sure how. So I watch.

And I wait.