Girl Psycho

A ghost that comes and goes (Hope)

I was not meeting him after school in the library. I was not going to be bending to his will. Besides, if he knew anything about me, he would have told anyone. Not arriving wouldn't be sealing my fate, he wanted more from me.

I was wearing a brown wig. I had on a pair of big, hipster glasses and walked down the street pretending to be talking on my phone. I'd parked my car far away, I didn't want it spotted here and had walked to his house. It was much bigger and grander than our house, even though ours was nothing to sneeze at. My mother's money alone was not enough to buy it, but my grandfather was rich. He'd just opened up another church for his devoted disciples. Such a good, Christian man... they say. They don't mind handing over all that money to him and he doesn't mind spending it. A true man of God! She hated going to church, but she did. She did because it was good for her disguise and tonight was no exception. Friday night church had become a regular thing, and tonight it was at his new church. 

His house was set back in the garden and his mother's car  was parked in the driveway. I walked past it to the small park located diagonally across from it. I took up a position on the swings and watched the house.

I wanted to get into his bedroom. While he was waiting for me, I would be learning as much as I could about him. I saw his mother's silhouette moving around in the window on the second floor. That must be her room, so taking a guess and knowing the general architecture of the houses in the area, Matt's room was either on the ground floor, or top right. I looked around briefly and then crossed the road.

I walked with a sense of purpose, head held high and looking confident. I pressed the remote just a little bit, a universal gate remote, and their garage door lifted slightly. In one swift move I ducked under it. I often go in through garage doors. Neighbors don't pay much attention to garage doors opening, they figure that whoever is opening it, must have a legitimate remote for it. But when you looking like your sneaking into doors and windows and climbing fences and walls... that's when the neighbors start noticing.

The garage was a typical upper middle class looking garage. A couple of mountain bikes that the family thought they would use often... they never do. Tools that dad thought he would use to do DIY around the house and flew his muscles, nope. Big boxes of old discarded crafty stuff that mom had dreams of using putting together happy scrapbooks for the kids... nope. None made.

I slipped into the main house and headed for the bedroom on the first floor, and what do you know, it was his. I could tell immediately. Half -naked swimsuit models lying seductively in the sand covered the walls. A poster of a Porsche... cheesy. Unmade bed. Clothes scattered on the floor. I looked under the mattress first. It's the most obvious hiding spot for things, but you won't believe how many people still use it. And so did he.

I pulled out a Playboy magazine. Nothing out of the ordinary there. A bottle of lotion... gross. But still nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it was perfectly ordinary and normal. Red-blooded young man. I walked over to his cupboards and started carefully going through them. I focused my attention on the back of the cupboard, the dark dingy corners where people usually tried to conceal their secrets. You know what they say about secrets though... you can't keep them hidden, especially when I'm looking. I have a way of seeing secrets and sniffing them out, no matter how deeply they are hidden.

"Bingo." I whispered to myself, still aware that his mother was upstairs. But I got the feeling she didn't come into this room much. I pulled out a large white envelope and carefully tipped the contents onto his messy bed. A small bag of weed fell out and a half-smoked joint, as well as what looked like some love letters.

I opened them and started to read, they were nauseating. Sickeningly sweet and totally over the top. They were a series of XOXOXOX's from a girl called Becky. In one he actually begged that she come back to him. "Couldn't live without her. Die without her... blah blah" he said. I bet everyone knowing what a groveling, pathetic lame ass he really is inside wouldn't look great for his new tough boy image.

I laid them out and took some photo's of them, as well as of the weed... just in case. But I was disappointed. I still hadn't found anything substantial. The kind of stuff that would give me the inside knowledge, and in turn, the upper hand in this little relationship of ours.

I glanced over at his desk, his computer was there and I slid up to it. I opened it and immediately went to his browsing history. And there it was. He'd made absolutely no attempt to hide it. Google maps... my house. Street view.

Why the hell was he so interested in me?

I closed the computer feeling somewhat unsettled and slipped out of their house unseen. Like a ghost that comes and goes as it pleases.