When I got home, I had this sense of urgency overtaking me. I needed to read those diary entries and I needed to read them fast. The faster I read them, the closer I could get to Eleanor and God, did I want to be close to her. I wanted to get inside...
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I stood a couple feet away from her, hiding inconspicuously behind a car. She stopped at a tall, red-brick building with blue windows, muted-brown railings and steps that lead up to two doors. She pulled out her keys and went inside of the door to the right, number 3971.
I memorized the place, taking the longest mental note of it. I just have to wait thirty minutes until she leaves to go on her dog walk.
After a long thirty minutes, I saw her exit her apartment with her phone in one hand and poo bags in the other. She fumbled with her belongings as she locked the door and as she turned, I crouched down in a squat and hid behind the beat up Toyota Prius in front of me.
I waited a good while, maybe five minutes to make sure she was gone and out of sight, before I stood back up and slowly crept my way across the street.
Walking up her steps felt freakish, almost unearthly. It was as if I was visiting her for the first time. I would knock on the door like she does to mine and she would open it, (maybe with minimal clothing on) and she would give me a juicy kiss and yank me inside, eager to finally have me, all of me.
I quietly cleared my throat and fished for her keys from deep within my pocket and I started with the first one. Nothing. I used the second key and I was surprised to hear a little click. Good.
I slowly pushed the door open and I was cautious, poking my head in. What if she has this huge, one hundred and twenty pound dog that was going to bite me when it saw me? She never mentioned having a dog of her own, but you never know.
I slowly slithered inside, shutting the door behind me. I didn't lock it, as I wanted to be able to leave quickly once I'm done here - if need be.
Upon first entrance, I'm hit with the smell of mint, or maybe it's eucalyptus. Something green and earthy. The air is fresh and I knew it must be because of the sheer amount of plants she had. I exited the porchway, keeping my shoes on.
Her floor was creaky as I took a few more steps into her home and I saw her living room to the left. It was big and I was hit with such a funny feeling seeing this room. It's like I've already been inside of it because of the pictures I saw on her Instagram but since I was actually here, it felt dreamlike.
The walls were painted a dark forest green and she had abstract artwork hung everywhere. She had a brown leather couch and a rattan footstool just in front of it, with this huge fluffy brown carpet underneath. I walked in a little more and I saw her infamous plant shelf that held at least fourty plants. It was so peaceful. Definitely more homey-feeling than my own place.
I was jealous but I don't think I was jealous over her home but more of the fact that I didn't live here with her.
She had a big television on top of a black stand that had a bunch of knick knacks all over it. Just beside her tv, to the left, was her record player with all the vinyl she owned up on little shelves on the wall adjacent.
