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My eyes dart open and I gasp as I startle awake. The sky is still dark outside, with only a hint of the morning sun on the horizon. With a groan, I roll out of bed and make my way to the kitchen to grab some water.
It’s beentwo weeksof maddening dreams. Two weeks of dreaming of Max watching me. Each night more vivid and upsetting. At first, my mind just replayed what happened that night I found him outside my apartment. But now…
I shiver as my slick thighs rub together. My messed up brain couldn’t just let me be traumatized like a normal person. Instead, the dreams now escalate to something dirty, wrong, and so upsettingly hot. The night before last, I fell to my knees in front of him as he told me about his obsession with me. He was hard and desperate for me as I took his cock in my mouth like I was craving it just as much. Tonight’s dream…thinking about it makes me shiver again, my nipples hardening with arousal.
I resign myself to yet another pre-dawn session with my vibrator. It only takes a few minutes before I’m shaking through my release. This has to stop, but I don’t know how to get rid of these dreams.
It doesn’t help that I haven’t told anyone about what happened. Maybe my mind is punishing me for keeping it a secret. Tormenting me with sexy stalker dreams until I break. But every time I go to tell someone, I can’t. Something in me demands that I keep my promise to not tell anyone. Even my therapist doesn’t know.
Grace asked a few times about Max, so I told her he ghosted me after a few texts. Which is technically true. He hasn’t texted anything since that night. Sometimes I check, usually after a particularly depraved dream, but there’s never a message. Don’t ask me why I haven’t blocked him. I don’t have an answer other than I’ve lost my mind.
* * *
It’s late on a dreary,rain-soaked Friday night, and I’m cocooned in a blanket, watching my fifth episode in a row of “In the Stars”,a dating show where they’re assigned partners based on astrological signs. The Aquarius chick is drunkenly sobbing to the camera after her Gemini date abandoned her to hook up with the Leo guy when my phone buzzes.
Right away, my twisted brain hopes it’s Max. A mixture of excitement and dread flutter in my stomach as I look at the notification.
Blair: You weren’t at class tonight.
Oh great. I’d already beaten myself up about skipping class tonight, but now I have someone else on my ass about it, too. Why does she even care? We’ve barely spoken since the second week of class, when she told me to stick with it. Despite that, I feel a strange sense of guilt. Like I should apologize for letting her down.
Mona: Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up to it.
I push my phone aside with a sigh. There. I answered her. Now I can go back to my trashy reality show, like a stereotypical lonely single woman on a Friday night.
Blair: Why not?
Ugh. I stare at the message, unsure of how to reply. Grace couldn’t make it to class and I didn’t want to go out there alone. Plus, I haven’t been sleeping well and hate driving in the rain. None of those things are what I reply, though. Instead, I picture Blair’s keen stare and it compels a truth out of me I haven’t let myself acknowledge.
Mona: I can’t deal with the thought of people watching me right now. I don’t know if I’ll be able to perform. Not if I keep feeling like this.
I watch the dots as she types her reply, wondering where the hell that answer came from.
Blair: Because it scares you?
Blair: Or because it turns you on?
A startled squeak escapes my lips. How does she know? Should I admit to a woman I hardly know that I can’t stop dreaming about a creepy man watching me? That it’s making me so horny that I wake up in the middle of the night even when I know the dark things in my dreams should scare me? If she can read me so easily, lying feels pointless.
Mona: Both?
Blair: Tell me more.
I desperately want to divulge my secret about the night Max followed me home. But then I’d feel even weirder telling her I’m turned on by the thought of a random man stalking me.
Mona: I don’t want to like it, but I can’t stop thinking about people watching me. And thinking about them getting off on watching me. I keep having these dreams about a man stalking me, watching me, and then taking me, and they’re so vivid…It’s crazy—I shouldn’t want that.
There’s a long, painful pause after my confession. Of course she isn’t replying.Way to look like a lunatic, Mona.
Mona: Sorry, I’m sure that’s tmi. Please ignore me.
Blair: I’m performing tomorrow night at a club a few miles out of town. You should come with me. It may help give you some clarity.
I tell her I want to be ravished by a stalker, and she invites me to a show? At least she’s not telling me I’m a sick freak.
Mona: Uh, why? I mean, I appreciate the invite, but how is that related?
Blair: It’s a fetish club.
