If Only They Saw What I Saw

I am always watching and mimicking. This is how I truly feel alive. When someone steps in front of me, I cant help but copy their appearance. I Have seen many different kinds of people. Some round, some short, some with breathing-taking eyes, and some wearing luxurious outfits. I mimic each and every person exactly.

Over the years I notice that things change. People change and styles grow different. You can say that I am everlasting, until I'm shattered. I am forever alone and trapped outside of the real world. The only time I feel happy is when I can contort into someones image and feel like a living being for once. But once that goes away I am left  alone to myself.

I live in my caretakers home. She is young and has a very interesting nightlife, bringing all sorts of men back into her room. Tonight she has a big feather on her headband that wraps around her forehead. I mimic her small green eyes that are now rimmed with black eye liner. She flattens out her pink dress with gold trim and a gold matching belt.

Oh how I long to truly wear something like that. I always feel bare and cold.

She picks up her purse and looks into me one last time before she leaves. I hear the door slam and the faint clickty-click of her heels as she walks away.

The room is now lifeless and my mood begins to dim. I Sit upon her wall and hope that she comes back soon. I always enjoy watching her as she lives her life. This one is far more exciting then the other woman who have had me. This one always has stories to tell of her romance with men and how much he pleasured her. She always brings her friends to her house and I enjoy watching them and learning about their lives as young woman in New York.

Hours seem to pass and finally I hear the door begin to unlock. She  stumbles into the living room and quickly another man follows her, slamming the door shut. A shake runs through me as I feel the vibrations from the door. They quickly begin to embrace each other, not paying attention to their surroundings as they knock things over. 

After agonizing minutes of watching them, slowly a figure in black begins to walk through the door. I try to scream, but no words come out. I frantically try to do something to get my caretaker's attention, but I fail miserably and stay lifeless on the wall. I mimic the stalker as he gets closer and closer to the couple. He comes up behind the man and in one quick movement slashes his throat.

My caretaker lets out a scream as her lover drops dead on top of her. The stalker pushes over the body and grabs her. He puts the knife by her throat. He drags her over toward me and  stares in me. His eyes are wild and  full of insanity.  Those eyes, I will never forgot. My caretaker begins to sob in his arms and begs with him. His face is like steel, unreadable. 

Low and gruff he said "If I cant have you, No one can." As fast as lighting he drags the knife over her throat and blood squirts everywhere. A few drops land on me, but I can't move to wipe it off.

The stalker doesn't stop there. He continues to hack away at my caretaker. I stare at her lifeless body in his arms. I wish I could stop watching. I wish that I could stop mimicking. Every time he stabs her, I feel like I'm doing it myself. It feels like every possible crack goes through me and I'm plunged into a deep misery as I watch the scene unfold. 

By the time he is done, I am drenched in red. I feel a warm hand brush off some of the blood and I can finally see. The man stands in front of me. He  wipes off some of the blood on him like it was the most casualist thing to do. He begins to clean some of the blood off the walls and floors. He then drags the mans body on the couch and does the same with my caretaker. He positions them and puts the knife in the other man's hand, making it look like he had stabbed her. He stands and heads toward the door. As he walks he  looks into me and smiles menacingly. He nods, knowing that I cannot speak of what had happened tonight.

Once its morning, the police are in the apartment surveying the scene. They fall for the mans trick and blame my caretaker's lover for murdering her. They call it a murder suicide.

If only they saw what I saw.