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 didn't think I'd ever say this, but I was actually relieved when Eleanor left for work the next day - because that meant I could get my plan in motion.
I wasn't sure when Richie would be home so my plan wasn't exactly completely formed just yet. I also didn't really know what the plan was either but I knew that I had to do something before it was too late.
What if he found another way to contact her, or worse - went to her home to tell her about our little encounter? I didn't think Eleanor would quite understand the magnitude of what I did to make her mine and I didn't think she was ready to appreciate everything to its fullest extent yet. It wasn't the right time.
I was love sick and I didn't think a visit to the doctor would cure me. What would cure me was having Eleanor to my own, forever, with no obstacles, no issues, nobody trying to break us apart. Everything was seemingly perfect before Richie decided he wanted to be the big hero.
It felt like there was this feeling inside of me, this monster that grew bigger and bigger the more I thought about somebody getting in the way of her and I. I was a little worried however - that the monster would grow so big that it would eventually become me. That's why I needed to deal with this problem sooner rather than later.
I waited all day, sitting on my couch, pacing my apartment, debating what the best plan of action was to get rid of Richie. I knew what I had to do, I just didn't know how it was going to be done. Knowing me, I would figure it out when the moment arose, which has generally so far worked out in my favour.
It's almost like I blacked out, one moment I was at home, my mind twisting and gushing ideas, the next I was outside of Richie's building. I didn't even know how I got here. It's like I just appeared. I had on a pair of leather gloves that I had to dig deep in my closet for, knowing I couldn't leave prints.
Prints are obvious and amateur and I needed this to look like an accident.
I slithered my way down the balcony of the building, peering into the window not far from his front door. It was open. His curtains were slightly ajar, the wind from the cool summer night blowing gently against the material, wisping open ever so slightly. It gave me a chance to see Richie sitting on his couch, watching tv.
What was he watching? It looked like a stupid reality show with sad, lonely people trying to find their perfect match. I was happy I had already found mine and didn't need to resort to humiliating myself on television to find it.
I snapped myself back into motion and started to scan the room. I saw the ratty old couch he was sitting on, his small tv, a dirty carpet and weights sprawled out in the corner of the room.
I took a small step to the side, shuffling over to try and get a deeper view into the room. I nearly knocked over the recycling bin just beside me, the plastic container drumming against the floor slightly. I ducked as quickly as I could as Richie turned his head over to the window to see what the noise was.
