She

She

She sleeps like a dead

But she is not dead.

Not yet.

I watch from the ceiling, my body stretched long and unnatural, melted into the shadows. Her breath is soft, steady. Her fingers curl in the sheets like a child.

She sleeps too easily. Too carelessly.

She thinks she is alone.

She has never been alone.

I have followed her since she was thirteen. Since the day she walked through the market, her slippers worn, her skirt too short, unaware of the eyes crawling over her skin. The man who trailed her that day, licking his lips, reaching for the hem of her skirt — he never made it home.

At sixteen, she grew bolder, sharper. An Okada man grabbed her wrist, tried to pull her onto his bike. They found him three days later, floating in the lagoon, his eyes missing.

She never knew.

She never thanked me.

And then she turned eighteen.

And she changed.

She started letting them touch her.

Their fingers on her waist, on her neck, their lips pressing into the softness of her skin. She let them savor her, let them pull gasps from her throat.

I watched.

I burned.

I hated it.

I let it happen, for a time. I told myself I could wait. But the thing inside me, the thing that does not understand patience, does not care for rules, has decided:

Enough.

Tonight, I will let her see me.

A shift in the air. A flicker of movement.

She stirs.

Her breath catches. Her fingers twitch. She knows something is wrong. The air is thick, heavy, pressing against her lungs.

She turns her head slowly, so slowly and I let her see.

Her mouth opens, a scream clawing up her throat, but I move first.

My hand, wrong, twisted, inhuman clamps over her lips.

Her scream dies in her mouth.

I lean close, so close I can feel her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.

Her body locks.

She cannot move.

She cannot breathe.

She cannot run.

My fingers stroke her cheek, her pulse thrumming against my palm like a trapped bird. She is so soft. So warm.

I press my lips to her ear, let my voice seep into her mind like oil.

“You are mine.”