The Watcher

Prologue

"Oh, Deb-or-Uh-"
"Knock it off. You know how Deborah is pronounced, and even if I did have time to get back into bed with you that doesn't mean I would. I'm already late and I really can't get away with it again." He looks at me with his almond-colored puppy dog eyes which causes me to sigh and fold into myself. I sit on the edge of the bed and look at him with a slight smile pinning on my cheeks.
"I love you, Deb, and I know you're gonna do great today," he extends his hand to me which I sheepishly accept into my own.
"I love you too Char." As I begin to rise from the bed he takes my hand towards his mouth to plant a small kiss on my knuckles. I give him a rather toothy smile and we both burst into a giggle reminiscent of children who just learned what "like-like" meant. I like-like you, Charlie Larson.

I had moved cross-country for college to find something new and fresh, to meet people and have experiences I never would have if I had stayed home in small-town Vermont. For the longest time, I wanted to be a nursing major until I discovered my true passion was journalism and storytelling. Since childhood, writing had come so easily to me, ideas and words were always flying around in my head. I'm the top student in my program and I'm up for the best internship in the state. Charlie... Well, all I can say is thank god for his father's money.

I walk into a beautiful sun-lit conference room where I see two of my professors seated next to each other and then a rather large man at the head of the dark table. There is something almost fearsome about him, he has these brooding eyes and he sits larger than both of my male professors. He stands to greet me and introduces himself as the VP of the online magazine and newspaper publication company MountainState News. I shake his hand gently, as his large fingers engulf my slender ones and he gives me an intimidating smile.

"If you're ready Misses Howell, then you may begin," he takes his seat and slides his chair closer to the table, opening a notebook and clicking a pen.
Twenty-five minutes of bullshitting my way into the internship I am stopped in my tracks by the brooding-man standing up and cutting my words off.
"Misses Howell-"
"Deborah. You can call me Deborah," as soon as the words leave my mouth I slink backward and regret even speaking.
"Deborah, your skills and experience are amazing truly, but we're looking for... well, a Montana native. Someone who can connect with the people and knows this state like the back of their hand. If anything comes up, we'll be in touch. Thank you for your time."

He walks over and extends his hand again, giving me a firm shake and then a pat on the shoulder. I can feel my stomach shrinking and forcing my breakfast out through my mouth. I hold back my vomit and give a slight smile to the man who just crushed my dreams.

Charlie keeps calling every few minutes but I've been laying in my car for about two hours just enjoying the silence. My head hurts, my body is just completely numb and now I have nothing. That internship is something I worked so hard for I was eligible to get it a year early. I finally pick up my phone and answer it.

"Deb what the actual fuck you had me worried out of my mind. How did it go? I'm sure you got it right? Oh my god, babe, I'm so happy for you-"
"I didn't get it... I didn't... Charlie, I didn't get it. They said they want a 'Montana native'," saying it out loud causes a tear to run down my face and suddenly I just can't take it anymore. I drop my phone into my lap as I whip my car door open, hitting the car next to me, and proceed to projectile vomit onto the ground.

I cry into the phone for about fifteen minutes as Charlie drives to come and get me. As soon as I see him I feel the pit in my stomach return and I puke out of my door once again. He steps between my car and the one next to me with a newly dented door and looks down at me and my puke puddle.

"Baby what happened? Can you get out?" I look up at him with a bright red, tear-stained face framed by black hair prickled with small chunks of vomit. He chuckles at me but covers his mouth quickly to keep me from getting more upset. "Maybe you should get out the other side so you don't step in... this," he waves his hands around the puke and covers his mouth again. I give him a nod and close my door and then I slide over to the passenger seat and sit for a moment. I look around my car and take a deep breath, and then I look out the windshield and see him standing there watching me.

Charlie and I go back to his apartment and I grab a few crackers to eat while he draws me a bath and finds me some clean clothes. As I'm sitting on his faux leather couch I hear a crashing noise from the bathroom and a disgruntled Charlie saying a few choice words. My interest is piqued and I rise from my spot to go explore the damage.

"Everything alright in here darling?" I push the door open and see Charlie knelt down and cleaning up an exploded bottle of soap on the floor. It's an unfamiliar bottle that screams feminine to me and suddenly the flood gates in my mind swing open. "Charlie, what the hell is that?"
"Babe its soap," he looks at me and lifts his eyebrows and I can feel everything in my stomach doing acrobatics.

"You're telling me you have fucking," I reach down and grab the bottle from his hands, "rose champagne scented soap? For yourself?" He looks up at me with defeat written all over his face and I can feel myself on the verge of losing it. He sits on the floor and runs his hands through his shaggy blonde hair.

"This wasn't how I planned this going but... I have the soap because I was going to ask you to move in, Deb. I got you a ton of stuff to make it feel more like home," Charlie looks up at me with the start of a smile and I bite my lip nervously. I can feel my face turning red and my whole body starts to get warm.

"Charlie... Are you for real?"
"Yes babe of course," he rises to his feet and grabs both of my hands in his. We look at each other for a few moments before reality comes rushing back and he smiles at me goofily.
"Charlie Larson, would you like to join me in my bath?"

"I would be honored, Deborah Howell," he gives me a little kiss on the cheek before we both undress and climb into the steamy water. He's seated behind me and lightly brushes the water over my shoulders and hair. I lay down a bit lower between his legs and look back up at him. He has this dorky smile on his face and suddenly this is the happiest moment in my life. Everything feels perfect and beautiful and being with Charlie has never felt more right.

After the rather steamy bath, Charlie picks out some of his clothes for me to wear and warms them up in his dryer. I sit on the edge of the bathtub wrapped in a towel and my eyes wander around his bathroom. I never noticed the peeling wallpaper by the sink or stains on the window. He comes in and without warning scoops me up into his arms and hauls me off into the bedroom. The entire room is candlelit and there's a bottle of wine and a folded pile of clothes waiting for me. I look at him with big eyes and he laughs at me before handing me my hairbrush.

"So does that mean you're impressed?"

"Very much so, yes. Now I see why you made me wait in the bathroom for fifteen minutes." We exchange a good laugh with each other and he pours me a small glass of wine while I brush through my tangled hair. I take a few sips before putting on the warmed clothes and my entire body quickly becomes tired. A very good tired.

We lay facing each other and talk about many things ranging from the interview to his day at work. There is even discussion of getting a puppy, although I am a bit indifferent to dogs, as the scar on my leg probably shows. Although just a bad childhood incident, it still sits with me when I hear the sharp sound of an upset dog yelling at the world. Perhaps, in a few ways, I am also an upset dog yelling at the world. Or at least that's how my guts felt earlier. My mind wanders and I explore the life of the upset dog. Wouldn't it be nice if we could make our problems go away by screaming into the void and biting people until they bleed? If only life could work that way.