Stockholm Syndrome || h.s

1.

I wake up to a much too familiar sound of tree branches scratching against my window.

Alarmed, I look over at the window.

And again, for the third night in a row, it's opened.

Something strange has been happening in this house. Whether someone has been watching me in my sleep, or if there's a ghost roaming these walls.

Either option still makes me a little scared.

I adjust myself to sit and I look over to my mirror, the pictures are missing. Again.

I let out a shaky breath as I get out of the bed onto the cold wooden tile

I slowly make my way towards the dresser and there they are, three pictures of me and my cat that passed away three months ago.

Maybe it's my cat, but in different form. In reincarnated form.

But that doesn't really sound realistic.

I shake my head and let out a fake laugh. Im paranoid over nothing.

I put the pictures back onto the mirror and close the window until I hear the click.

Now I will know for sure if someone else really is in this house.

I sigh and clench my face when I smell the stench being made from me

Now would be a great time for me to brush and shower. Goodness gracious. I smell like that part of the freeway that always smells like cow shit

I make my way into the bathroom closing and locking the door behind me before stripping down and jumping into the shower

I turn the knob to the right and let the water run on my hands before stepping into it incase it's too hot or too cold.

I step into the steaming water and let the relaxing sensation run down the top of my head, to my bare back, and down my legs

I almost forgot how nice it felt to relax

I don't get much of it, and I should. I deserve to be relaxed. I'm too tense.

I squirt a little portion of shampoo and conditioner into my hands and rub them into my hair

I shut my eyes closed but regret it immediately

Because once my eyes are closed I see a man.

Not just any man,

The man in all of my dreams. He's charming, effortlessly flawless, and stunning. He's anything beautiful that you can imagine in the outside.

But he's the most cruel, selfish, heartless man on the inside.

I know he's just a fictional person who's in my dreams, but this man isn't in just a couple of my dreams, he's in my dreams every night.

He's aggressive. He likes to beat people for pleasure. He finds it arousing to see people feel pain. He likes the feeling of being dominant, to know he has all the power.

That's what makes him so disgusting.

If this is Gods way of telling me that the man I've been seeing in my dreams, is also the man who has been watching me in my sleep..

I'm completely, no doubt, fvcked.

--//--

This is short because it's the first chapter and well, I like short first chapters.

xx. Lani