Stranger's Diary

Mentally and Physically: Defile

6:14 am--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I opened my eyes. What time is it? What day is it? Why am I here? Where is he? I do not know.

And I do not care to know, I just need to leave. But where. Home does not exist without the thought of him. He is home now. Am I home now? or would I leave this stranger's love story with a final breath. 

I look around, and it is obvious to where, I can be. All I hear is the sound of leaves being blown by the wind. I see brown, brown brown grimy wood, a small, abandoned cabin possibly almost as small as my room. I can see two doors. One leading outside, where I can see the trees through the broken filthy stained class window, and the other, most-likely leading to another room. It does wreak badly of the scent I smelt, maybe hours ago. That sour smell. It almost made me throw up, but what would come out my mouth? I do not know when last iv'e eaten. 

I now try to move. Useless. I look at my hands that are tied with a thick rope and noticed a blanket under me. It is not just a random blanket. It is my own. The same blanket that went missing a few weeks ago. But this is the first time i've seen him in my home. My migraine worsen at the thought of him being in my home without me knowing, under my bed, in the closet, standing over me as I sleep, with his hands around me as I sleep, breathing his hot musky breath on my neck as. I. sleep. Unaware. He said he would be there, and he might have been, just as he said he would in those letters. Watching me barely sleep and panic everyday. 

I look around again, and it is now I am noticing wide eyes, wide, red eyes staring at me from behind the door that may lead to another room. 

I. Scream. I have never screamed so loudly. I have never seen my life flash before me so quickly. Now I know, now I see what he is. He is not just crazy, he is actually beyond insanity. I can see it  through his eyes. I cannot move from where I am. Nothing I can do but sit here and let him defile me with his eyes. 

He does not move, my heart continues to drop. How long, has he been there. I cannot speak at this point, why should I. All he can hear is his own mind, his own desperate. And he does not make it easier for my fear to ease. 

Slowly, he opens the door and walks out of the room, from behind the door he hid for however long. He is still staring at me, up and down, seductively but not in a good way. He still has not blinked. His eyes so wide as though he tore away his eyelids. 

His body is now in-front of my own. His movement, fragile, so, delicate, but he wreaks, his clothing has lost their colour, his hands so unclean, caked with dirt and discoloration.  

He gently touches my soft pink innocent lips with his hard black wicked fingers, my legs, my breasts, in every area that was never meant for him to touch. 

Now, he is not just defiling me with his eyes, but with his hands. He defiled my life. And for what.

He straightened my body on the spring stiff dark green, and badly torn couch, removes each clothing ever so lightly, as though he is undressing a brittle baby. There he is, inside me more than I ever want him to be. And instantly Daniel is in my mind, the way he touches me, like Daniel did. He copied ever touch, every movement. And I hated that I remember he knew where I was. I ran so far from home to get away from him but he knew I was at the motel. He stayed there, kept me company with Daniel. 

I do not know how long he lasted. I was stuck in my head, in a loop for the entire time. He lifted his body from my own, not looking at me this time, holding his head down. He walks back into the room, leaving the door wide him.