The world is in twilight. I am floating through a haze. All around me swirl the words she's spoken. Some of the words touch me and echo deep into my soul. I see a memory of her face, frozen in time, and that touches me. Behind them, I can dimly make out the shapes of my imagination, the foundation of my obsession. I loose sight as she screams that word at me. Obsessed. It taints my love with anger.

A door slams, bringing me back form my doze. With drooping eyes and tired limbs, I stand up and shake off the images that have been denying me sleep for the past weeks. And yet I am wide awake. I am excited; tonight is the night. The night I will finally sleep, because she will haunt me no more.
She will not haunt because she will be with me in more than a memory, more than a dream. Tonight is the night I sleep with her in my arms. Tonight is the night she will see. She will understand.

I brace myself against the wall as I hear feet coming lightly up the stairs. I quiet my breathing and try not to move, so she will not notice me until it is time. She is closer now, in the doorway. I hear a click, and light floods through the cracks in the closet I am hiding in. She enters the room, shuts the door behind her, and walks right past me. She is only feet away. It is a struggle to overcome to urge to take her now. But I must wait.

She is puts her purse down on her dresser, and takes off her jewelry and wipes away her make-up. I close my eyes and listen closely, reveling in the fact that I now have sounds to match the routine I have watched so closely for the past months. She is going into her dresser drawers now. The sound of her opening and closing the drawers is loud - I take the opportunity to step forward, and look out of the cracks in the closet.

My foot kicks something, and it slides across the wooden floor. I freeze. She freezes, too. All sounds cease. There is a moment of complete silence - an agonizing moment that makes me break out into a cold sweat. But then the moment passes and she laughs out loud nervously. She murmurs a chiding comment to herself under her breath, and goes back to the normal routine. I let out a breath, and at the same time my heart swells with endearment. She is so sweet.

The drawers close for the final time. There is a rustle of cloth as she begins to change clothes. I know it is a wrong, I know it violates her, but I cannot stop myself from watching through the cracks, just as I could never stop myself from watching through the binoculars. I watch her unknowingly reveal her perfectly sculpted body, clad only in underwear, to me. My breath catches as she unlatches the hook of her bra, and steps out of her panties. She quickly puts on a new pair of panties, followed by a ragged pair of men's pajama pants and an equally ragged tee-shirt. She picks up her former clothes from the floor and walks towards the closet to deposit them into her laundry basket, which I am currently standing next to.

It is time. I reach into my pocket and retrieved a rag that is soaked in chloroform. Soon she will be opening the door, and she will be mine. Despite my strong desire to take her earlier, I am glad that I waited. While she is quite beautiful during the day, all made up and carefully put together, I found her to be even more gorgeous after the mask comes off, and she is just naturally her. That is how I want her. I want the part of her that hardly anyone has ever seen, something I can just call mine. Something that the two of us can share.

She opens the door. I am temporarily blinded, because bright light suddenly pours into my eyes, which have gotten used to the dimmer light. But that lasts hardly a second. I am concerned, though, that this has given her too much time to react. But I am lucky. She has frozen in shock. But that lasts as long as it took for my eyes to adjust.
Now she screams.

She drops her clothes and stumbles backwards, almost falling. But I am fast, and I catch her. I hold her to me, and press the rag of chloroform to her face, covering her nose and mouth. Her eyes widen and look into mine with recognition. She begins to thrash, tries to break free. But I am bigger than her, and stronger than her. I hold her, and will have no problem holding her while the chloroform takes effect.

As she is passing out, I talk to her. I like to believe that my calm and loving words are what cause her struggles to lessen, but I know better. I know that, for now, it is only the chemical that makes her calm. But I talk anyway. I tell her that I love her. I tell all that I told her weeks ago, when I first approached her. I tell her how much her reaction hurt me. That if she had just accepted me in the first place, then I would not have to do this to her. I tell her that I'm sorry. And as her eyes flutter closed, and her breathing evens out, I tell her that soon, she will understand, and will love me too.