The Black Rose

Watching you, watching me

Anna

This morning I once again woke to the sound of knocking at my door. On my door mat I found “The Phantom of the Opera” CD, his trademark black silk rose and a message: To my angel of music. So he was watching me after all. I smile to myself, smelling the rose as I reenter my apartment, CD in hand.

Every day he learns something new about me and yet I still don’t know his name. I guess he must go to or work at the college I attend. He must have figured my name out by seeing my online screen name when I was chatting at the library. How could I have missed seeing him that day? He would have had to be standing right behind me to see it. The thought of him being that close to me makes my heart beat faster.

I glance to my balcony and wonder if he’s watching me right now. A thought enters my mind: If he can see me, I can see him.

I put my new CD into my portable CD player and step out onto my balcony. I sit, listening to the beautiful melodies while watching the sun rise over the Kohl’s parking lot. I gaze at the Taco Bueno on the other side of the parking lot, wondering if he’s there eating breakfast and watching his angel watch him.

I search the parking lot for a glimpse of his truck, but don’t see it. For all I know he’s driving something else today. I continue to watch the sun rise and once the sky is fully alight I return inside to spend the rest of the day watching movies.

Stalker

I had to high tail it out of there after I left her gift at her door. I swear she must have been expecting me. I almost had the urge to stay and hide in the stairwell to observe her reaction to it, but fear got the best of me. I crept quietly around the building and walked out the front gate. I had learned from watching other tenants that you don’t need an entry key to exit the complex.

Now I’m at the Taco Bueno across from her apartment, eating one of their breakfast quesadillas. The window seat I have chosen gives me a perfect view of her balcony and I can just make out her form when she steps outside. She sits in one of the deck chairs and places a headband, no, headphones over her ears. I smile when I realize she’s listening to the CD I just gifted her.

She sits up a bit in her seat, leaning toward the railing, looking for something below. She won’t see my truck since I parked it behind this place. She sits back again and tilts her head to the sky. As the sun rises it cast an aura glow around her and she appears to be an angel.

She sits there a while longer, basking in the glow of the sun, then returns indoors. As I finish my quesadilla, I realize she may not step back outside and I can’t spend all day here waiting. I could continue watching from my truck, but after awhile someone would get suspicious. So I decide to leave for today, and catch her again tomorrow.