Stalker

Chapter 10

Lisa

Sleep is for pussies. At least that's what I tell myself on night two of no shuteye. After I made sure Gwen made it home safely and we watched a movie together, I slipped out of the house to go see Jennie again. When I left her earlier this evening, she was shaken up and slightly drunk. It took everything in me to leave, but the only reason I left was because I knew it would only be a matter of hours before I came back.

Click.

I twist the knob and push the door inward after disengaging all three locks. The apartment is dark and quiet. Slipping inside, I make sure to close the door as silently as possible. For a moment, I remain still with my back pressed against the door. I'm patient. I count the seconds. Then the minutes. And eventually, it rolls into an hour before I feel comfortable to proceed. I slip out of my shoes and pad through the house. Last night and earlier today, I learned so much about her. Tonight, I intend on finding more out. If I don't find anything, it will be worth just seeing her sleep again.

Her bedroom door is ajar, and the room is dark. I want to turn on a light to look at her, but from the sounds of her soft breathing, I don't think she's in a heavy sleep like the night before. With slow and silent movements, I tug at the curtain until moonlight shines down upon her bed from the window. I'm disappointed to see that she's sleeping in a T-shirt rather than in the nude like last time.

I'll have to fix that.

Prowling through the room, I make my way over to her bedside. She looks angelic in the moonlight as she sleeps. So delicate and perfect. Fragile like a porcelain doll. The thought of anyone breaking her has fury bubbling up inside me. Earlier, when I'd probed Gwen about what they'd talked about, she'd kept her lips zipped. Despite my annoyance over being left out of the loop, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride that my Jennie was able to pull forth a sense of comradery from Gwen. My sister doesn't have friends. Her issues make it difficult for her to make or keep them. Boyfriends are non-existent. My sister is unable to take care of herself, much less others, which is why she relies so heavily on me. The fact that she seemed to have this desire to look out for Jennie—even so much as protecting a secret—was huge for Gwen.

Maybe Jennie's neatness would rub off on Gwen.

The very thought of Jennie wading through Gwen's mess has me suppressing a shudder. Gwen is too much like Mother. She teeters on that edge between sane and lost. It terrifies me. I attempt to tether her to me so if she falls, I can reel her back in. From time to time, I do just that. But what worries me the most is that our connection won't be strong enough. That one day she'll fall and it will simply snap. My sister will be just as gone as our mother.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and brush Jennie's hair from her brow so I can see her eyes. They're closed and her mouth is parted. She sleeps soundly. With a smile, I peel away the blankets and regard her perfect form. Who needs sleep when you get to spend the night staring at this vision? I begin a slow, subtle pulling of her T-shirt. Tiny movements that won't be felt as she slumbers. Carefully, I bring her arms through the holes of her shirt and then eventually remove the shirt altogether. Her tits are absolutely divine in the moonlight. With a sigh, I carry her shirt over to the hamper and dump it inside. Then, I make my way back over to her. Pale pink panties are the only thing she wears now. I want those gone too.

My fingers tug at the fabric and I'm able to gently slide the soft material down her thighs. Once I get them past her knees, she makes a soft sigh. I pause in my efforts as my heart jackknifes in my chest. If she found me like this, undressing her, things could turn bad very quickly. Her breath evens out, though, and I set to sliding her panties off the rest of the way. Instead of relinquishing the lingerie, I keep it as a token. I inhale the fabric, my mouth watering at her unique scent before I shove them into my pocket.