TWISTED OBSESSION

Chapter 1 : The start

Every day starts the same way. My alarm, set precisely at 5:30 AM, never gets the satisfaction of ringing. I'm already awake, lying in the dark, eyes open, counting the seconds until it's time to move. I rise exactly at 5:31, a minute of indulgence I allow myself before the day begins. Routine is everything, control is everything. Without it, I would unravel, and that is something I cannot afford.

The first sip of black coffee is bitter and perfect. The ritual of brewing it, of measuring out the exact amount of grounds, the slow pour of boiling water, the waiting it's all part of the process. My mind is a machine, methodical, deliberate. I function best when everything is in order, when I control every variable. People think being a software engineer is about writing code, about creating something out of nothing. But it's not. It's about control. Every line of code is an instruction, a command that must be followed precisely. There's no room for error, no room for deviation. The computer does exactly what it's told, and in that, there's perfection. Flaws are unacceptable, if there's a bug, I find it, I destroy it. I make the code perfect. It's the only way I know how to live.

I wasn't always like this. As a child, I was different. My parents used to say I was too quiet, too withdrawn. They didn't understand that I was observing, analyzing. I saw things others didn't. I saw the cracks in people, the imperfections they tried to hide. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand the messiness of human emotions, the unpredictability of life. So, I learned to control it. I learned to eliminate the imperfections. Over the years, I perfected my methods. I learned to hide my tracks, to blend in, to make sure no one ever suspected. The key is control, always control.

At work, I'm the best. My colleagues envy me, admire me even, but they don't know the truth. They don't know what I'm capable of. They see a successful, brilliant software engineer, someone who can solve any problem, fix any bug. They don't see the darkness inside me, the constant need to eliminate anything that doesn't fit my vision of perfection.

But work is just one part of my life. It's the part I let the world see. The part that keeps me safe, hidden. The real me, the one who craves control in every aspect of life, that's the one I keep locked away. The one that only comes out when no one is watching.

And then there's her. Lily Hartwell. The first time I saw her, I knew she was different. She wasn't like the others. She was perfect, almost, but even perfection can have flaws. I've been watching her for months now, studying her, learning every detail of her life. I know her routines, her habits, the way she smiles at her customers, the way she frowns when something goes wrong. She's beautiful, but it's more than that. There's something about her that draws me in, something I can't quite explain. She's like a puzzle, and I need to solve her.

I go to her bakery every morning, just before opening. I watch her through the window as she sets up for the day, as she bakes the first batch of bread, as she arranges the pastries in the display case. She's meticulous, just like me. Everything has its place, everything is done just so. But I've noticed the cracks. The little imperfections. The way she bites her lip when she's stressed, the way she hesitates before making a decision, the way she sometimes seems distant, lost in thought. She's not as perfect as she seems. And that's why I'm here. That's why I can't stay away.

I've never spoken to her, not directly. I've made sure to stay in the background, to be just another face in the crowd. But she knows me. I've made sure of that. I've left little clues, little hints that someone is watching, someone is paying attention. At first, she didn't notice, but now I can see it in her eyes. The slight flicker of recognition when she sees me, the way her gaze lingers just a bit too long. She's curious, maybe even a little scared. Good. She should be.

But I'm not ready to reveal myself, not yet. There's still so much to learn, so much to study. I need to know everything about her before I make my move. I need to understand her completely, to eliminate any potential flaws. Only then will she be perfect. Only then she will be mine.

Today, as I sit in my car across the street, watching her unlock the door to the bakery, I feel a surge of anticipation. The game is just beginning. I have the upper hand, I always do.

As she disappears inside, I imagine the smell of fresh bread, the warmth of the ovens, the way the light filters through the windows, casting a golden glow on her hair. I imagine walking in, talking to her, making her smile. But not yet. Not today. Today, I will watch, I will wait. Patience is key.

The thrill of the hunt, the anticipation of what's to come it's intoxicating. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, savoring the moment. Everything is going according to plan. Soon, very soon, Lily Hartwell will be mine. She just doesn't know it yet.

And when she does, when she finally sees me for who I really am, it will be too late. Because by then, she'll be trapped in my web, just like all the others. But she'll be different. She'll be the one I keep, the one I perfect. The one who stays.

For now, I'll keep my distance. I'll continue to watch, to learn, to plan. Because in the end, there's only one thing that matters: control. And I will have it. I will have her.

It's only a matter of time.