Page 19 of Petrify

The end is abrupt, an unwritten caesura.

Chapter 10

The Ghost

I watchher slink towards her bathroom once she’s alone in her room.

She found my gift. I knew she would.

Undressing, pulling her shirt over her head, exposing her stomach, her breasts, and then sliding down those woolen leggings, inch after inch of pale thigh exposed. Naked, she is as beautiful as a marble statue, carved solely for my viewing pleasure.

After the last time I watched her, I made sure to cut the wires for all cameras in this wing. Leo thinks no one knows how he keeps extensive surveillance in the majority of the house, butIknow. Nothing happens in this house that I don’t know about.

And sharing her is not an option.

She taps on her phone a few times, and then something soft with guitar comes out of the tinny speakers, low enough just to break the silence. She sets it down on the edge of the counter before sinking into the water, her dark hair in a knot atop her head. I much prefer it down, unbound. I imagine running my fingers through it, tugging at the strands, angling her head back, tasting the sweetness of her lips.

Her eyes flutter shut. She doesn’t know I’m here.

Seeing her like this—when all pretenses are dropped and she is baring her soul—this is just for me. No one else gets to watch. She unveils herself, forme.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

The sound of her sigh is itself a pleasure. Her bath oils throw an oil-slick watercolor across the surface, the scent of roses and vanilla in the air.

I could watch her do this every night.

I have not been able to look away from her at all these past days.

This is when her beauty shines: when she turns inward, shedding the mask she wears all day; when she is serene and I can gaze upon her as she’s meant to be seen.

Some time passes. That same draw that had me at the foot of her bed is pulling me closer again. Impatience, maybe, or impulsiveness.

Out of the shadows of the room, I step forward.

All she has to do is open her eyes and she’ll see me. With the flickering candles there is more to illuminate my mask this time. She will truly see me.

She is awake. She couldseeme.

I want to bare myself to her, too.

I want to be known. Completely. Am I not owed this?

As I step forward on silent feet, her lips part further, a slight crease between her brows, a low breath, nearly a gasp, but her eyes remain closed. And then I realize, under the water, her hands are between her thighs.

I stop just within the light’s reach.

That should bemyhand between her thighs.

As if I had called her name, her eyes flick open.

Mallary.

Unlucky. Burdened. Ill-fated.

She stares at me.

I see her pupils widen, then constrict to pinpricks. I hear the jagged sound of her breath.