Psychopathy

2 - Prometheus

Sparks. 

That's what I saw of my letter through my lens. She read the letter and burned it to hell.

It was that expression again, the one that didn't twist nor turn, it seemed as if she were a bystander in a moment of serenity. My love is slowly turning into an obsession, and obsession to mean something to her, even if she hates me. The pain of being ignored like this is worse than the pain of being hated by her.

She has ignited my love.

I can't tell what she is thinking, I can't. But all I want is to push through the lens and flip the lever that controls that expression. Somehow, it makes her feel all the more ethereal, and somehow, she feels almost out of my reach. Almost. She's like a blank canvas that's cursed to never be painted upon, but I will do whatever it takes, to even paint a small speck on her. Even if it consumes me. 

I realized I had to be woven into her life, no matter what, my name, Agnes, my life and my soul, all had to woven into her existence, not to be a supplementary hindrance but the vessel of her life. I had to approach her.

But just as I thought I the surprise was over, she started to write another letter, her back faced to the camera, I was desperate to see her reaction, but all I could see was her shoulder pacing as she wrote. I wanted to see her face so badly, I even cursed myself out for not putting more cameras. There she went, to drop it off at her drop step with the same stoic look, calm as a dewdrop, but certainly camouflaging a smile, perhaps?

It wasn't as if she was laying out a trap for me, right? She wasn't just putting her fire on a pedestal for the taking, right?

Was she Zeus and I Prometheus? 

I couldn't help it, she was luring me in, and she knows it. I went at night, where she dropped the letter, and picked up quickly, my heart pounding, my ears were filled with the sound of my heart, I couldn't be caught. Somehow, I wasn't? It felt... wrong... as if she let me go, it felt like I was being watched despite my legs moving involuntarily to move away from the crime scene. Even the words "crime scene" feel foreign, even though they shouldn't. I should be proud that I found the one.

I don't know how fast I went, I just kept moving until I arrived at my doorsteps, where my sanctuary was, where I wanted her to stay forever. Like a dove forever enclosed in a gold-gilded cage. With shaking hands, I opened the letter.

"To my stalker, 

If you're reading this, you should know not to return to the crime scene. I know you're watching me. I don't know where, but your disgusting eyes are on me. Don't worry, I'll find you."

My mind went blank, was I too rushed? Did she see me? She saw me for sure. I don't know how, but she saw me. I rushed to the camera I had set up and she was staring right back at me. A static image, just before it went offline. Smiling.  As if she already knew where I was. No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No. 

It felt as if she was going to come out of the camera and gouge out my liver.