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I've been watching her for a couple days now. The new girl on the block. Emma Rosary. She moved in from Florida to pursue a career as an author.
She was quiet and kept to herself. She was an author at a local agency. You must ask, "How do you know all of this?" and the answer is simple. I will do whatever it takes to make you mine. Even if i have to watch over you.

6:30 every morning the alarm went off. I felt like a creep watching her get changed through her curtains but i had to make sure she was safe. Something was off. Someone else was in her apartment too. "Who's this?" i whispered underneath my breathe. I haven't seen you before. i mean really Emma, a mullet? I watched as they brought each other in close giving a final goodbye kiss before she left for work. I headed back to my apartment. Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat but i couldn't find a trace of a boyfriend. After hours of looking i finally found it. Dylan Motell. 

Dylan was a wanna-be rock star. A low life. What do you see in him Emma? No money. No future. He can't provide for you. I can. And i did as anyone else would do, i showed up to his job. It was disappointing to say the least. Shitty music and alcoholics fighting. And there he stood. Center stage with the mic in his hands. He was their leader. As they finished their final song, he stepped down from the stage and headed towards the bathroom. I followed not far behind. We finished our business and headed to the sinks. Eye contact in the mirror. "Hey i saw your performance, it was amazing." i said. "Thanks." he replied. No emotion in his voice. The alcohol took away all of his personality. He was a lot better like this. I inched closer to him. Now just inches apart. He turnt to grab a paper towel as i turnt to grab his skull, smashing it into the sink. His unconscious body laid in a puddle of blood. The door opened. Another member of the crew. He looked down at the body. His lips trembled as he struggled to make out a real sentence. "He just fell. I think he drank too much. You clean it up while i take him to the hospital." i told him. He grabbed the roll of paper towels and began to wipe it up as i drug his body out the door. The club was almost empty by now so this wouldn't be much of an issue getting him out. I drug him out the back door into the alley way where my car sat. Shoving him into the trunk and shutting it. I sped off back to my home and immediately taking him to the basement. He never got a chance to wake up.

A missing persons report came out the next morning. It was 6:30 on the dot. Where was Emma. I made my way down to the street where police cruisers lined her side of the street. I watched as they ran through the apartment. Checking every nook and cranny. Of course they would find nothing. I made my way back to my home before i was greeted at the door by 2 officers. I put my headphones in and walked right past. Surprisingly it worked. I opened my macbook to see she had written an article, but this one was different. The title read "loved ones" as i skimmed through, it was all about losing your loved ones and gaming advantage of your time. She was clearly grieving after the tragic mysterious death of her pot head boyfriend. This is where the real story begins.

The next morning, i woke up at 5:30 AM and headed to the store. She loved posting food on her instagram which was perfect because now i knew exactly what she ate. I grabbed a cheese plate and headed out. I finally arrived at her door.  Ringing the bell, she opened the door. Dried mascara smudges ran down her face. She wore an oversized hoodie and even bigger sweatpants. She was an absolute mess. This was the perfect time to save her. "Heard about what happened to your friend, Just wanted to come by and drop this off for you to show i'm here if you need anything." She grabbed the plate. Reached out her hand. "My names Emma." she said as we shook hands. "Brian." i responded. Her hands were soft as i imagined. She stood in the doorway as I peaked around the apartment. The backdoor window was broken. "You have a nice one." I said as I walked back towards my house. The beginning of something special. Over the next few days i didn't talk to her. I didn't want her to think i only approached her after Dylan passed. 3 whole days no contact. I still watched her every move. She had taken the week off work as the police were still pressing her hard looking for any sign of what might have happened.

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