G: I rush through the narrow alleyway, quiet but hurried, trying to get there before he does. I have one hand on my knife, the other guiding my way through the night.

S: “Oh, Gisela, you don’t know what’s in store, do you?” I hiss, watching her think she’s so smart, planning to kill me as I try to steal her money. Not so fast.

G: What was that? Movement flickered in the corner of my right eye. I whip my head around, but only see the buildings collection of shadows. But I know better. I pretend as if I know Steven isn’t there, but he’s that one shadow. Right there, the one looking as if he’s going to kill me, which he is, so very fitting.

S: Phew! She almost saw me, but she’s back to having her guard down. I still creep alongside her, kidded in the shadows with my pitch black robe, planning for the minutes until I can get my sweet, sweet, revenge.

G: Ha! He thinks he’s still safe! Nope. I throw my head back around, raise my glistening knife and…. It hits my mark, Steven’s hand. He screams in pain, and I smirk.

S: Pain, horrible pain, my hand stuck to the wall by HER KNIFE. I wince, but know I have lost as she catwalks away, head held high, going to claim her treasure once more.

The Watcher

It was raining. Heavy drops fell from the edges of the streetlamp, masking the glow like a misty veil. From the shadows of a half-destroyed brick wall, I waited, unnoticed, invisible. She always took this route home. Always.

I didn’t know her name—not yet. She was “the woman in the green scarf,” or maybe “the one with the light steps.” She floated, unaware of the world around her, her laugh echoing in my ears long after she turned a corner.

It wasn’t a laugh tonight, though. Her umbrella wobbled as the wind fought her grip, and she muttered something I couldn’t hear. Her irritation gave me pause. I liked her better serene. It made this feel less… wrong.

Wrong? Was it wrong? I wasn’t hurting her. I just wanted to see her. To understand what made her light up the way she did when she stopped at the flower stall, even when she didn’t buy anything. To find out who she called late at night.

I followed the familiar rhythm of her steps from a safe distance. Six paces behind, never more, never less.

This was the part I liked best—when she didn’t know I existed, and I could savor her in silence.

The Watched

The rain came suddenly, pelting against the glass windows of the coffee shop. I finished my drink quickly and packed up, checking my phone. Late. Too late to still feel safe walking home. But the buses were unreliable, and calling a cab felt indulgent for such a short distance.

I stepped outside, wrapping my scarf tightly around my neck. The street glistened with rain, the streetlights casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. It felt different tonight. Heavier. Like the air was holding its breath.

Maybe it was just the rain.

I kept my head down, counting my steps. I always did that when I was nervous—counting, as though numbers could keep me safe. My umbrella wavered against the wind, and I cursed under my breath.

Then I felt it.

No sound, no sight, just… presence. A heaviness behind me, so faint it might have been my imagination. But it wasn’t.

I’ve felt it before. That pull, that faint awareness that someone is watching. It prickled at the back of my neck.

Was it the same as before? Or was my paranoia catching up to me?

I glanced behind me, quick and subtle, trying not to make it obvious. The street was empty except for the rain and the occasional car. Yet, there was something—an echo of footsteps maybe?

I clutched my umbrella tighter and quickened my pace.

The Watcher

She noticed me.

I saw it in the way she stiffened, her head dipping lower, her steps more hurried. She knew. I’d been careful, but something had betrayed me—a shuffle too loud, a shadow falling at the wrong time.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. The trick was not to panic. She couldn’t see me—not really. If I stayed calm, she’d convince herself it was her imagination.

But tonight felt… different. Her fear was sharper, and it wasn’t fear I liked. Fear shattered the illusion, turned her into prey instead of the ethereal being I wanted to admire.

I slowed my steps, letting the distance grow. She shouldn’t feel me this close, not yet.

The Watched

I turned the corner and stopped. My heart was pounding, my breath shallow. The street ahead was quiet—too quiet. Normally, I’d pass people coming out of the bar on the corner or the late-night laundromat. But tonight, nothing.

Behind me, the faintest scuff of a shoe against pavement.

I wasn’t imagining it. I wasn’t.

I spun around, my umbrella dripping water in every direction. Nothing. No one. Just shadows and rain and the empty echoes of my pulse in my ears.

“Hello?” I called, hating the way my voice cracked.

No answer.

I should keep moving. Standing still felt like an invitation. But my legs wouldn’t listen.

The Watcher

She stopped.

Her voice was soft but sharp enough to slice through the rain. I stayed still, held my breath, waiting for her to move. I wanted her to walk on. To go back to being the unknowable figure gliding through the night.

But she didn’t. She stood there, her umbrella tilted just enough to hide her face. I hated that. I wanted to see her. To remember why I had followed her in the first place.

My hands clenched. I stepped back into the deepest shadow, waiting.

The Watched

I couldn’t stay here. I started walking again, faster this time. My hand hovered over my phone in my pocket, but I didn’t pull it out. Who would I even call? The police? And tell them what? That I felt like I was being followed by a ghost?

The sound of footsteps grew louder, faster. I knew it wasn’t my imagination anymore.

I ran.

The Watcher

She ran.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

For the first time, I hesitated. What if she told someone? What if she turned around and saw me, really saw me? What would I even say?

But I couldn’t let her leave. Not yet. Not like this.

I ran after her.

Whack! Janey’s hip caught the edge of the entryway table. Her pale grey skin split like a ripe plum and lemon yellow gel glistened in the cut. Looking over her shoulder, she had been hurrying into the house. A creeping fear stoked her steps. Janey applied pressure to seal the wound.

Jarred, a delft print bowl wobbled over spilling potpourri on the tabletop and floor. The bowl smacked a ceramic figurine of a rabbit, a gift from ChiChi from their trip to Big Hurricane, which toppled to its side cracking one ear. Barking at the excitement, Griffin their new puppy ran into the hall followed by ChiChi.

“Goddamn it Chi. You promised to stop moving things around,” Janey said, rubbing her now mostly healed thigh.

“Is it my fault you have wide ass hips? You okay, babe,” ChiChi said reaching for her.

Janey slapped her spouse’s hands away. Snuffling the fragrant rose petals, Griffin pounced on a dried orange. Tail held low, the puppy carried his prize in offering to the clear plastic screen door.

“No, Griffin, no. Drop it, drop it. Good boy. It’s not funny Chi. Every week you are rearranging the furniture. This table has been in four different places alone. I’m sick of tripping over stuff because you won’t let shit be. This is bananas.”

“Hold the phone! this can’t be about the table in the entranceway. What’s going on, babe? You’re the one who said you wanted a place to park your keys and put down packages. The old setup with the grandfather clock wasn’t meeting our needs, anyways.“ ChiChi said as they stooped to collect the fallen items. "You wanted me to help out more around the house, okay.”

Withher flat hqnd, Janey slapped the small table. Looking away from a small fluttering object in the distant fields, Griffin turned to his owners and raised a confused ear.

“First you are not helping me like it’s my job to do all the household chores while you farm. You’re not doing me any favors by washing your own dirty dishes. Second, this moving fuiniture shit is not remotely cleaning up. I don’t want you getting a hair up your butt and youstart moving my stuff upstairs and then downstairs and then back upstairs again. Can you just stop moving shit. Is that too much to ask? Stop. Moving. Stuff. Shit, I have worries enough,” Janey said.

Whimpering, Griffin backed out of the foyer to hid in his crate. Janey looked over her shoulder again staring through the solar door. The view was clear but Janey couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched. In the fields, on the way to visit friends, buying supplies, even in her botany lab, unseen eyes tracked her movements. Again and again, it had been happening. Tingling up her back, the knowing slow burn of eyes on her back. Tears smarted her eyes, Janey remembered how it felt after they were liberated from the brothel after the Civil War those early days when she lived in fear each moment she was sure they would be recaptured. ChiChi stood up and flung the bowl onto the table.

“Damn, chill,” ChiChi said under her breathe earning a quick scowl from Janey. “So it’s happening again.. Your mysterious stalker is back.”

Arms folded, ChiChi with a wry smile leaned against the door frame. She made air quotes around the word “happening.” Janey slammed the figurine on the table.

“I’m serious. I feel eyes on me. I feel them, Chi. It is not like last time. Something’s not right.”

“Well that’s why we have our new big guard dog. No one is going to mess with our big handsome boy,” ChiChi said puncuating each word with head pats and belly rubs for Griifin.

Janey stepped closer to the clear door. There had to be a word for it when you know you are be surritiously surveyed. Janey wanted to say she shouldn’t have to justify herself to her feelings to her own partner. Janey believed there was a an invisible string that connected all living things. That for her entire bike ride home from Ryan’s place she had feel the weight of unwelcomed eyes, eyes with bad intentions. Janey just wanted to be believed. But ChiChi didn’t believe in human intuition especially for Androids like them. But they were made of skin grown from flower petals. Their nerves and muscles had been grown from donor human tissue. Creatures evolved to detect predators, to look for clues, to read gazes and body positions. As sex workers their brains were developed to be attuned to humans. Every gesture was a form of communication.

Janey pressed her forehead to the smooth plastic solar door. Why wS RHIA HAPPENING TO HER.It was warm. ChiChi came up behind her enveloping her in a bear hug. Taller and leaner, ChiChi rested her chin on Janey’s shoulder. The softness of her cheek gazed Janey’s own. Janey closed her eyes and leaned back in ChiChi’s embrace.

“Maybe we can take a few days off. Let Lena watch Griffin and we go to the Jovian Circus or just lay in a hotel bed until obscenely late in the morning. No orchids, no research, just you and me,” ChicChi said.

The puppy bounded back to the front door and whacked his excited tail against ther legs. His ears twitched to a sound only he could hear. He lowered his ears and growled.

"Come away love and I’ll show you how I messed up the kitchen,” ChiChi said unfolding herself from Janey’s body.

Janey turned and let herself be drawn away from the door and its worries. Capturing video, the microdrone buzzed closer. The dog launched into a volley of shrill barks.

“No, Griffin, no barking. C’mon here, boy.. Let’s see Chi’s hot mess.”

---

Elias Hawthorne’s Voice

I watched her first with gentle eyes,
A governess with quiet ties.
Her life, so simple, neat, and small,
Yet in her heart, I felt a call.

Her grace, her smile, they beckoned me,
A mystery I longed to see.
At first, I hid, I followed near,
A shadow lost in quiet fear.

But soon, that fear gave way to need,
A hunger planted like a seed.
Through moonlit streets, behind her back,
I trailed her steps along the track.

No word was spoken, no glance returned,
Yet deep inside, my soul it burned.
I wrote her notes, though she'd never see,
Each mark a sign that she’d be mine, to be.

---

Arabella Sinclair’s Voice

I walked my days in quiet grace,
A life of order, a gentle pace.
Yet something stirred, I couldn't tell,
A whisper faint, a silent bell.

Each step I took, I felt a gaze,
A creeping chill, a shadow's haze.
Footsteps echoed, but none I knew,
A presence dark, yet out of view.

And then, the notes, so strange, so near,
Each one a spark that fed my fear.
Was I hunted, or was it doubt?
A restless mind I couldn’t shut out.

But still I went, the world I knew,
Until the day I walked it through,
And came to stand before the door,
My heart a storm, a silent roar.

---

The Moment of Truth

He opened wide the heavy door,
A smile, a look I’d seen before.
"I knew you'd come," he whispered low,
"Now there’s no place left to go."

“What do you want?” my voice a strain,
As dread coursed through my veins, my brain.
He smiled again, a twisted plea,
“I want you here, with me, always—
No more fear, no more delays.”

The room was dark, the air was thick,
With letters stacked, a cruel trick.
“You see, my dear, we were meant to be,"
His voice a soft and twisted plea.

My heart it trembled, but no sound,
For in his eyes, my will was bound.
I stayed, I stood, though fear did rise,
A captive heart, I closed my eyes.

---

Elias Hawthorne’s Final Words

In shadows deep, my love is found,
Arabella’s soul, unwound.
She is mine now, this game is done—
Her heart my prize, my love won.

---

Two lives, now lost, one bound, one scarred,
One bound by love, the other marred.
In silent whispers, in shadows deep,
A love that twisted, a promise to keep.

Perspective one: Elias Hawthorne perspective two: Arabella Sinclair

---

Arabella Sinclair, a gentle grace,
Lives in order, in a quiet place.
At twenty-two, her world is small,
A governess, she minds the call.
With lessons, chores, and market’s plea,
She yearns for life beyond what she sees.
A restless longing, a silent door,
She dreams of something, something more.

Elias Hawthorne, with charm and wealth,
A man admired for his grace and health.
Well-traveled, poised, with a watchful gaze,
His polished smile hides darker ways.
In secret shadows, his heart does yearn,
For Arabella, for her to turn.
At first, he watched with soft desire,
But soon his soul burned with a darker fire.

He follows her steps, though she’s unaware,
A presence unseen, yet always there.
Through market streets and moonlit night,
He shadows her, out of sight.
No words spoken, no glance returned,
Only a fire that continues to burn.

Arabella, unaware of his need,
Feels a chill as her thoughts proceed.
Strange footsteps echo behind her back,
A phantom's breath on a winding track.
In the quiet night, her senses flare,
A shadow lingering in the air.

Cryptic notes, like whispers in the dark,
Each one a mark, each one a spark.
Her heart grows heavy, her mind unsure,
Is she being hunted, or just insecure?

Elias, in his mind, feels justified,
Believing their fates are entwined,
He watches, waits, and justifies,
His love for her, beneath disguise.
To him, their souls are meant to be,
No matter how twisted the path may be.

Two lives entwined, yet worlds apart,
One filled with fear, the other with heart.
Arabella’s unease, Elias’s desire,
Two sides of a darkening, tangled fire.

her comfort disturbed; her heart filled with bother. as his presence grows closer, one second, one moment after the other.

Arabella, worn and lost in fear,
Arrives at last, the moment near.
She knocks upon the heavy door,
Her heart a storm, a silent roar.

Elias stands with eyes so cold,
A triumph there, his grip takes hold.
“I knew you’d come,” he whispers low,
No more running, no place to go.

“What do you want?” her voice a strain,
As he steps back, she feels the chain.
“I want you here, with me, always—
No more fear, no more delays.”

Her body quivers, but she stays,
Entranced by words, caught in the haze.
Through darkened halls, they softly tread,
His letters stacked, her heart misled.

“You see, my dear, we were meant to be,”
He whispers close, a twisted plea.
Her fear gives way, not to release,
But resignation, cold, in peace.

He smiles as shadows close around,
In his dark world, she’s finally found.
Arabella’s will is now undone—
A captive heart, the game is won.

“Taxi!” I wave my arms down trying to flag a taxi cab down, but unfortunately at this time of night most of them are not in service. Lucky me. I really need to leave work earlier from now on since it’s getting dark quicker. Thank you time change! I wrap my jacket closer to me, walking briskly in the direction of my apartment. The cool, night air blows against my neck, but the chill stays long after it’s gone. I halt my steps, turning to look behind me, the hairs on my nape standing on end. There’s nothing there but the wind rustling the bushes and trees. I knew I should have gone home sooner. I’m becoming delirious from my lack of sleep and the fact that I think someone is here with me! I shrug and turn back to continue my walk home. It was odd though…the street was awfully silent. I didn’t see anyone or anything…not even an animal making a sound. Weird? Maybe there is someone else here. There’s no way I am the only person out right now…right? I pick up the pace, walking faster to my apartment gate, punching in the code and hearing the loud buzz as it opens for me, allows me to sigh in relief. Relief at what though? I’m fine. It’s only me and no one else is here. I press the elevator button and listen to the ding of it descending down to the ground level where I await it. It opens with a creak and I quickly get in and immediately press the close button, then my apartment level on floor five. The elavator rises slowly, dinging at each floor before halting on the number five and opening for my departure. I look outside of the elevator, no one is there. Wait…why would they be? What am I expecting? It’s late and anyone that would be out in the halls is probably a resident here. I shake my head, “Gosh what is up with me tonight?’ I mutter to myself, walking quickly to my apartment door. I jam the key into the lock and twist the handle quickly before turning to shut it just as quick as i did opening it, latching the knob and deadbolt locks. “Well that was uneventful,” I shrug out of my jacket and kick my shoes off by the door, making my way to a nice hot shower, now that I’m in the safety of my own home.

How unfortunate there are few taxis running right now. If I had a taxi I could give her a ride the next time she gets off of work late. Maybe tomorrow. She’s so cute. The way she wraps that jacket tighter like it will protect her better. Maybe from the wind. Not me though. She walks briskly down the street until suddenly she stops in her tracks. She turns, looking behind her, looking right at me. Except she thinks the greenery is the only thing keeping her company, and she fails to see me as I watch her from within the foliage. She shrugs and continues on walking, although she’s got more pep in her step now. We approach the apartment complex gate, she punches in the code quickly and slips in as soon as the gate opens. I watch as she walks to the elevators, waiting for it to come down, she looks around and behind herself as if she knows someone is there. But she doesn’t. Not yet. Soon she will. The elevator opens and she quickly hops inside, the doors shut just as quickly as they opened. The numbers continue to rise up to her apartment on level five. She’s out of sight now. She made it home safely. Good. Now that she’s safely inside I head to my place. I reach my door, unlocking it and kicking my shoes off, I head to my bathroom to take a relaxing cold shower. As the cold water rushes over me, i hear the usual quiet singing coming from the adjacent wall to my bathroom, and I lean my ear against the tile wall smiling as I listen to her entertain herself.

I’ve always hated the night. The way the crisp air freezes my nose hairs and the once warm breeze transforms into well managed blades. The silence of the night echoes and every noise holds its five seconds of fame. The shuffling of bags as I pass an alley. The buzzing gnats that fly above my head into the street lamps. The repetive thump from behind me.

Those heavy footsteps have been behind me since I left my job a couple blocks away. I would be afraid, I should be afraid, but I can’t work up the energy to care. I have no car to jack, not a penny to my name, no family to return to, and not a inch of sanity in my brain. I‘ve never been one to back out from a confrontation and I won’t start now. Im starting to like this night.

All I need is a few bucks, I’m not doing anything wrong because I need it. Most people who steal don’t need the money and I’m not taking that much and release a shaky sigh in reply. I’ll just take that amount and I’ll return the rest. He probably doesn’t need it anyway and with how oblivious this guy is hes practically begging someone to rob him. __ I should have listened to mu gut and just robbed him as soon as he left that pizza place. Dang, should I just run up behind him or should I wait till he reaches his house then I’ll get him while he fiddling with his keys. Is it chillier than usual, this sweat dripping from my arm pit’s isn’t making this any better. I’ve come to far to back out now. I hate this night.

If you were to ask me about my greatest comfort, I would answer that watching the world go by from my bedroom window just before I go to bed is pretty high on my list. It’s something akin to watching a flame’s slow dance. These souls, like specks of fire, coming into and disappearing out of your peripheral vision. And these vehicles, these lights, when watched from a distance, seem to be animated by something bigger than the sum of their parts. It’s dazzling and reassuring at the same time to feel like, whether you want it or not, you belong to an unfathomably complex machine. Somehow, by simply watching the world, you feel less alone…

__ __ _If you were to ask me about my greatest comfort, I would answer that watching Karla’s face popping up from her bedroom window at night is pretty high on my list. It’s certainly my favourite 11pm activity, and possibly one of the best times of the day where I can contemplate her beautiful features at length and undisturbed. It’s definitely a pay-off for crouching in the dirt in this little bush. Through my Leica Noctivid 10x42, I spy her deep, deep eyes so full of life. There is something about her that’s so dazzling and so reassuring at the same time, something I can’t explain. And yet, somehow, by simply watching her, you feel less alone… _

My chest feels tight as I hurry down the dimly lit path. Just a few more minutes and I’m home and safe. I keep repeating it to myself, just a little further. Then I’m home safe. But no matter how far I run I can feel his breath on my neck. He’s approaching and I don’t think I can make it.

He’s in my sights, I don’t know what possessed me to follow him. I’d been watching him for hours since I saw him at the Mall. It’s wrong, I know that, but it feels so good, like a cat chasing a mouse. I watched him with morbid fascination and now the chase is making me hungry for more. I need him. I want him.

I turn a corner into an alley and pause to catch my breath, please, please just walk right past. Just leave me alone.

He turns into an alley. Stupid mistake. I’ve got him now.

He turns into the alley and just stands there watching me. I scream at him to leave me alone, but he approaches.

I’ve got him.

The town was covered by the dark night clouds, my friends and I just went to a karaoke bar and they drank—but I didn’t like drinking… so I left. Just a young adult women walking the streets alone, not a good idea… right? I left feeling peaceful—but also couldn’t help but doubt my security. I tried speed walking home, it worked well—until a dark shadow lingered behind me. Someone was following me. _ __ I called my Bestfriend, “_Hey Jared. Are you busy right now? I need to be picked up.” “No, I can come. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” She was heading here. She knew my code— Jared—when I was in danger. The dark shadow still followed me until a black car arrived—my Bestfriend, and she must’ve brought her boyfriend.

                               ••••••

I must’ve looked like a creep. I thought. I was just a girl trying to follow another girl to keep her safe and myself safe. I was freaked out, walking alone. Her friend must be picking her up. Suddenly someone shouts, “Who are you?” I come out from the shadows. Their eyes widen. “Do you need a ride home?” The girl I was following asked. “Please, I’m honestly scared.” I felt ridiculous following her… it was a bad idea trying to meet my ex boyfriend at the karaoke bar, he didn’t even show. Tears streaming down my face, “I’m sorry if I scared you.” I called out. “No worries, it’s okay.” “Are you okay though?” She asked, her friend nodding. “Well. I was supposed to meet my ex boyfriend at the karaoke bar. That’s why I followed you home, I was scared walking alone. My ex stood me up—“I was interrupted by my tears. The girl asked if she could hug me—I said yes, and both girls comforted me. “I know this is random, but I have a good feeling about you. Would you like to come over? You look like you could use some icecream.” “Yes please,” I said in between hiccups.

And that day, we had icecream and watched Gilmore girls. I met some of the kindest people that night.

_The end. _💕💕