You will be mine #wattys2016

Love at first sight

When I lost you I felt as though my world had been destroyed. I felt as if the devil himself had reached up from the depths of hell and tried to drag me down to join him. I did go, for a little while. We passed some time together. I drank things I shouldn't have, I smoked things I wouldn't have, I didn't listen to people I should have. You left a big hole in me. You hurt.

It all started on that day in January. I remember I had been so fucking cold when I met you. The heating system of the office had broken down and I'm sure you remember how hard a New York winter can hit. I'd been sat at my desk, googling how long it took for hypothermia to set in, when you entered. You were dressed in your work overalls, all ready to save the day. I'd felt the electricity jolt through my body my body at the sight of you. It had been like I'd been woken up after a deep sleep. I was certain that you'd felt it too as you looked directly at me, although you'd later deny this. I knew I just had to have you.

We'd started talking on my lunch break. Everyone in the office knew that the heating wouldn't be easy to fix, so I knew you wouldn't have left yet. Time was not an issue for us. You told me that you had been doing this job for awhile and that this was far from the worst case that you'd seen. Looking back now I think you were trying to reassure an office-type such as myself. You had been so kind. We talked about some of those worse examples and I recounted some "funny" stories from the office. I was so besotted that I didn't even realise that your smile didn't reach your eyes. You still gave me your Facebook details though, we became friends that night at 19:57. I've never waited so long for a notification.

A week later and the heating had been fixed. You'd done a brilliant job. The only downside had been that you no longer occupied the break-room from 13:05 until 13:45. I missed you.

With the passing months the heating became less of a problem. But I'm a man that lives in the future, you see. I'm always thinking ahead. If the heating broke again then my boss might have suspected something, or worse, they might have blamed you. So I did what any man would have done in my situation. I broke the air conditioning unit.

It'd been worth the few days in which the office had felt more like a sauna when I saw you walk back into the office. You hadn't posted many photos on facebook, but now I could see that you'd grown out your hair. It hadn't suited you nearly as well as the bob had done, but I didn't say anything.

I'd managed to catch you on your break. You took a much shorter one than before. You'd said it was because of your new diet. I'd told you that you didn't need to diet. You'd smiled politely. You'd acted a lot colder with me. It was as if all our facebook conversations had meant nothing to you. I'd told you that you looked good on your trip to Mexico. You'd told me you had to leave.

Your house looked a lot different to what I had imagined it like. After seeing all the pins you'd saved on your Pintrest about decoration and organisation, I'd imagined that it'd look better than it did. Instead what I saw was a run down house, that looked as if it had seen better days. It wasn't good enough for you, but I'm sure you already knew that.

As the weeks passed I didn't even see you try and make the house look better, let alone clean it. Maybe you were just a Pintrest idealist.

You'd looked truly stunning at your sister's bachelorette party. But I prefered watching you dance, to your favourite youtube playlist, as you got ready. I hadn't liked who you brought home with you that night. I had been so angry with you. He was not good enough to adorn your side. But I swear, I really was sorry for that stone I threw through your window.

I'd noticed that the same man had started to become a regular visitor to your dump of a house. He wasn't good enough for you, but you blocked and unfriended me when I sent you a message saying that. You'd even called the police on me too. I thought that had been a bit too much.

You'd gone to school with a Caroline Brown. You even appeared to have been very close to her at one point. That had been around 7 years ago. You must have fucked her over too, to have become so distant. It'd been easy to copy her account and add you. I just stated that she'd forgotten her password and had to create a new account. No one was any the wiser. It was then that I saw that you'd gotten engaged. I slashed his tires. You got a restraining order against me.

I never knew you could have been such a cold hearted bitch. A few days after you'd filed the restraining order, I'd gotten fired. They couldn't keep someone "like me" on their payroll. I had to leave my flat. I started living in my car. It was all your fault. You moved houses, but I still found you. You couldn't hide from me.

Out of the dresses you tried on I thought that the strapless one looked the best on you. However, it did allow that horrible tattoo of yours to be displayed. You know the one I'm talking about. You got it when you were 18. You do make terrible life decisions.

You married him on the 5th of June. It was a beautiful day. You looked stunning, once again. I knew once more that I had to have you.

You were planning to leave for your honeymoon on the Monday following your wedding. I'm sorry you didn't make it. Breaking into your house had been easy. It was maneuvering it that had been hard. You really were a messy person. I tripped over some papers you left on the floor and woke up you and your husband. You sent him down. Coward. I'd used the lamp that your mom had bought you as a wedding gift as a weapon. He went down quickly. You heard the thump. I want you to know now that this wasn't my intention. I just don't understand why you picked him and not me. As I looked down at him, I saw nothing special. I smashed his head in with the lamp and left the room.

You were shaking with fear by the time I got to your room. You tried to fight me but I was stronger. I offered you a choice to come with me. You asked me about your husband. You called me a freak. A stalker. A bastard. I told you I knew my father as I grabbed you. You couldn't even scream as I clasped my hands around your throat. Finally, I had you.

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Only a short story so that's the end folks. If you liked it, please give it a like and a vote. I've entered this for the wattys (it's my first time entering.) If you like these kinds of dark stories then follow me and this is my style. The darker, the better. 

Bye.