The Unwanted Promise (New Cover, Same Story)

22. Walking Nightmare

I was being watched. Bee was at work, and I thought I was alone. The house was quiet when I had woken up. I had moved around the whole place, moving from room to room. Daily chores were finished up in each room. And after, I was planning to take a shower.

Ever since Bee and I became comfortable with each other, I had cared less where I was changing with the doors open or close. With the thought that everyone was out of the house, I moved to my room and started to take piece by piece of clothing off.

It was then when I saw from the corner of my eye, someone was standing across the hallway. Quickly I reached for my towel, wrapping it around my body.

"Who's there?" I moved to hide myself behind the door.

"Sorry," he had told me, "I had come to ask about sugar, I didn't realize.."

"It's in the top cupboard, to the left of the stove."

"Okay, thank you."

I stayed glued to the wall, listening to his retreating steps. Why was it that I didn't hear him come up? My face blushed in embarrassment.

Closing my door, and locking it, I resumed to my shower.

What started out as an innocent act turned into something more.

One night, when Bee had called to say he was going to be late, I decided to make dinner and watch a movie before sleeping. I sat alone in the living room on a wide couch. The movie only half way in.

"Do you mind if I join in?" His voices came from behind me.

Looking back at him, I said, "no, not at all. Come sit down."

He smiles, and I turn back to the screen. I was confused though. As wide as the couch I was sitting on, and with all the other smaller couches we had, he chose to sit right next to me.

As smoothly as I could, I scooted away from him, trying to make a distance between us. But the distance didn't stay, as the movie went on, he only moved closer.

"You know," he said, "I really like this movie."

"Yeah, so do I," I replied.

Again we were quiet, only the movie was talking, with all its noise.

Then the strangest thing happened.

Something was placed on my thigh. The warmth and strength it emulated, I knew it could be nothing other than a hand. But why?

Looking down, I confirmed it. His hand was on me.

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Your hand."

"Oh. Sorry."

His hands moved off of me, and I left him to the movie.

"I'm gonna go read in my room. Enjoy the movie."

I spent most of my days locked up in my bedroom, too scared to walk around in my own home. Even if I was prepared for anything that could have happened, I was left feeling horribly gross.

He was too helpful. His words too overbearing. His actions too dominate.

Simple chores were interrupted with unnecessary conversations and slight touches.

After countless warnings, the actions were only getting worse.

There it was again. While doing the dishes, a body is pressed against my back. A arm reaches up past me to cabinets above me. Frozen, I close my eyes and wait for him to move away.