He's been watching her since the first day he followed her home. They both worked at the local coffee shop and he's only spent as much as one minute talking to her over the last year and a half she's been a barista there. He would always be covered in bleach and cleaning products from practically laying on his side all day cleaning the appliances that sat under the counters and in the bathroom. He knew from the small conversation they had that she was the one. He was meant to be with her no matter how much she didn't agree.
As he peered through her window, he could just make out her figure sitting at her vanity. She was running a large brown brush through her golden brown locks and staring into the mirror with a smile on her face. He could faintly make out the sound of the radio in the background and every so often she would lift the end of the brush to her mouth and belt out the chorus into it. Her long white bathrobe hung loosely around her shoulders and was tied at the waist with a silk belt.
From the darkness outside her windows he could make out every single detail. The light freckles on her cheeks. Her light green eyes and beautiful smile. He could see a very small scar that adorned the corner of her eyebrow. He would sit in the darkness and imagine stories about how she got it. ~When she was twelve years old she had a horse named Rocky. Everyday her and Rocky would go for a ride in the trails behind her parents farm. One day Rocky got spooked by a mountain lion and he ran himself and her through a thicket. A small thorn caused her that scar.~ He's always sigh to himself whenever he's think about these things. Wishing he could be the thorn that pierced her flesh and caused that warm red blood to run down onto her face.
In his excitement he realized he was leaning too close to her window and breathing his heavy breath onto the window pane. If she had only glanced to her right she'd see him watching her every move. Oh, how he longed to hold her in his hands and never let her go. He's fantasize about making love to her and he'd pleasure himself on the ground outside her window. Never realizing how demented his thoughts really were. ~Tomorrow night is the night. She's going to the bar and I am going to make her mine.~ He thought to himself.
Friday came and went at work and she was getting ready to go out in the bathroom at the shop. He took this opportunity to leave work and head over to her apartment and set up in his usual spot under her bedroom window. He waited and waited. Four in the morning is when he heard her come stumbling into her house followed by another set of footsteps. Her door slammed and the sounds of two people giggling echoed through his mind. He stood up and looked through the window. He could make out the sight of her naked on top of another man in her bed. Jealousy took over his body and he was determined to get into her apartment.
He'd practiced this day in his mind for months and he knew exactly how to get into her house. He slinked through the back door making sure to only open it about a third of the way to make sure it didn't creak. He closed it behind him and only locked the dead-bolt. Had he locked the handle it would have screeched and clicked too loudly. He knew where the floor boards were loose and which ones creaked. He knew she kept her knives in the corner drawer of her kitchen. He slowly crept through to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife he could find.
He headed toward the bedroom but was distracted by her dirty laundry sitting inside the hamper next to her bathroom. He pulled a clump of her clothes into his hands and drove his face deep into them, inhaling her scent. Her floral essence sent his senses wild. Anytime he'd pass her at work he'd catch a slight whiff of her and he would immediately be in love again. He could hear her sighs of passion coming from the other room. This only enraged him more.
The door was still unlatched and this allowed him to slide it open slowly. He peered around the corner and watched her naked back bouncing on top of her new suitor. He clutched the kitchen knife tight in his right hand and watched as they both climaxed together. His breaths were getting to heavy to keep in and he let out a large sigh to himself. They both turned in a panic and covered themselves out of fright. Seeing red, he ran over and drove the kitchen knife hard into the chest of the young man. The young man gurgled slightly and slumped over. He pulled the blade out, it took some effort. The girl screamed as her lovers blood sprayed onto her, the moment of passion was over and now she was cowering in the corner of the bed next to her newly deceased lover.
"You were supposed to be mine," he said, clearly heated. "WE were meant to be together!" He raised the knife high in the air. "I can't let anyone else have you!" his look of anger turned into a sadistic smile. "We're meant to be. You're MY woman and I'm YOUR man!" The smile started to fade. "I don't even know you though." She whispered cowering, naked in the corner of her bed. He drove the knife down hard into her chest, staring her in the eyes as her life faded away. "You do now." he whispered as her eyes closed and the life left her body.
He sat up and looked around. The screams had obviously set off suspicions because there was banging on her front door. He looked down at her lifeless body, rivers of red flowed through her chest. He pulled out the knife and stared at the blade. He looked down at his own hands which were also covered in red. ~I'm finally the thorn~ he thought to himself. He then ran the blade across his wrists and stroked her hair until his life had also faded away.
The smile he had on his face, to this day, haunts the memories of the officers who discovered this gruesome scene. "Obsession and lust, a horrible combination. There's no such thing as love at first sight. Only obsession like this could lead someone to commit such a heinous act." The police chief said in a statement the next day. Love is not something that can be established in a minute.