Our Sick Inheritance (editing)

Chapter 45 - The Way You Touch Me

In her room Stacy opened the card that was signed by Jose's wife and twin girls. Two hundred dollars were enclosed. She was so excited that her shopping trip just became more elaborate as she was determined to impress the administration of the school, she was going to settle in. This fashion tour she won is an inspiration the school provided to encourage students on their financial path. Each show on the trip was sponsored by organizations to place the students with the fitting aspect of the fashion industry when they graduate. It was just the beginning of the world she wanted to be a strong part of.

Stacy looked at the still cracked open bathroom door. She didn't have the same uncomfortable feeling that she had before dinner. She opened the door tentatively and was relieved that the bathroom was empty.

To avoid being seen by the neighbors, Stacy flicked her light off to cast her room into darkness. The full moon filled her space enough to see every inch and corner. It was best that everyone thought she was bedding down for the night, so they didn't walk in on her.

The dark never scared her because what stood in it was no longer a mystery. Though there was always energy in the house, she felt safe now that her father was home. Stacy headed towards her closet where she had hung up Anna's sweater. She slid open the glass doors and got an eerie feeling but ignored it. She didn't see the ghostly legs standing bare just under the tightly fit hung up clothing that buried everything above them. Immediately Stacy grabbed the sweater that hung directly in front of her and pulled it from the spot it was smashed by the garments trying to hold together, then slid closed the closet doors.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror Stacy let the moonlight bounce off in reflection making it look like the moon hung above her head from just outside her window as she danced in its wide beams of light. Stacy pushed her skirt down until it fell loose from her thighs and dropped to the floor. She then took off her shirt and let it slide off her fingers landing on top of her skirt. Her bra followed. With her arms crossed over her breasts she studied her body clad only in pretty lace panties.

The silver sweater that laid on her chair called to Stacy, begging her to touch it. She picked up the sweater and slid her hands down inside of the arms of slinky material. She giggled as it tickled her soft skin. It was as if it were made to fit her body as the expensive sweater rested against her curves outlining the figure God blessed her with. She buttoned the sweater half way up leaving it open to expose half of her breasts. Stacy felt like a million bucks. Never had she felt so sexy. Nothing she had ever worn has been as perfect. She imagined that is how sex would be, sensually divine with a devoted love and appreciation.

The woman that stared back at her was someone only she knew was inside her. From head to toe she felt different, older, and more mature. Her body warmed up as her blood rushed through her system to excrete the scent of tangerine and jasmine that she had sprayed earlier that day from a new body spray she just bought. She felt even prettier than the moment before. Stacy's forehead was warm, and her cheeks were two shades darker than their natural pink. Her fingers touched the liquid looking fabric slowly. Each thread glided under the celled pads of her fingers as she moved her hands up and down her body with the material against her sensitive skin. Truly nothing on earth made her as happy as this sweater made her feel.

A noise clicked behind her and fear froze her blood. Stacy's heart pounded hard against her chest breaking through the ice to let her move and look at her bedroom door as she thought her parents had walked in on her. Her face immediately burned red and she wondered if she had forgotten to lock it.

Nobody had entered her room.

Her hands cupped her face and tried to cool her neck. Hot blood rushed through her body faster than she was ready for, so the cool breeze from the barely open window made goosebumps form on her skin. That was when she looked back into her mirror and saw that the closet door was open an inch. She knew she had closed it before she put on the sweater. Stacy stood and stared at it for a few minutes, but nothing happened. She closed her window against the cold weather.

Taking one last look at her image in the mirror she removed the sweater and quickly threw on a tank top and pajama bottoms. Her hand went to the wall and flicked on the light. She walked to the closet slowly and creaked it open. Nobody was inside. She hung up the sweater, pushing it between her clothes with a little strength but much effort. Stacy hadn't fully decided to bring it with her on her trip, but was going to keep it there until she did.

After Stacy turned off her light she got into bed and laid on her pillow with her back to her closet and window. She closed her eyes thinking about how the material of her sweater made her body and soul feel alive.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard a series of creaks behind her and her eyes snapped open. She quickly rolled over in her bed and saw the closet was once again open about an inch wide. Outside she heard the wind hitting her window. She listened strong enough to hear raccoons trying to break through garbage cans on the snow filled streets. Stacy turned on her small side table light like when she was a child and closed her eyes again before she prayed to wake the next morning.