Imaginary

He watched her on his screen as she paced the kitchen on the phone, talking to her employer. He watched her smile brightly as the conversation ended, knowing she had got away with her little white lie. He watched her as she glided effortlessly out of the kitchen without a care in the world, her fingers brushing the wall and door frame as she moved. He held his breath as she momentarily disappeared from sight, as she walked down the hall to the bathroom, and then exhaled in relief as she came into view again. And he fixated on her as she undressed to take a shower. He sat up tall and puffed out his chest. Today was the day. Today was the day he would have her. She is perfect. She will be mine. He felt a burst of excitement in the pit of his stomach thinking about it. But he had work to do first. He grabbed his backpack and waited at the manhole for the noisy water pipes to wake up, telling him she was in the shower. He braced himself like a runner waiting for the starting pistol. And there it was, the metallic rattle of the pipes banging as the water rushed through them. He slid the cover to one side and lowered himself down into the laundry room. This time, he didn’t bother replacing the cover; he needed every second to prepare for what was about to be a perfect day. Quietly, he moved around the kitchen to the back door and turned the lock. He passed the window and made sure it was fully closed and latched. With every step he took, he listened for a change in noise from the bathroom. From the kitchen to the front door and from the front door to the lounge, he checked every lock to ensure they were secured. He stood at the entrance to the hallway. He listened. He could still hear running water. He grinned. He made it to the first door and opened it. The pungent smell of sickly sweet little girl hit him in the face, and his stomach churned. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath through his mouth and tried to ignore it. He watched his feet as he stepped through the room, making sure he did not step on any of the obstacles that littered the floor. He leaned over the bed to the window and checked it was closed. Scanning the room, he found a container filled with small plastic beads. He took a few and pressed them into the window track. He knew the girl was small, and this should make it almost impossible for her to open the window quickly. He crept back to the door and put his ear to the crack. He couldn’t hear anything, so he opened it just the tiniest amount and listened again. The water had been turned off, but he did not know if she was still in the bathroom. He opened the door farther and took one step into the hall. He went to take another step when the bathroom door opened suddenly. His heart jumped up to his throat, and he could hear his pulse in his ears. Swiftly, he stepped back into the girl’s room and pushed the door almost closed without letting it click shut. He gripped the doorknob tight. He took in the air slowly and deeply. He grinned and laughed a little in his head. He loved the excitement. He was having fun. He needed to move to the next room, but he couldn’t predict how long she would be in her bedroom. He leaned up against the door frame of the little girl’s room with the door open just the smallest amount. He didn’t wait for long when he heard her footsteps coming. She was walking slowly, and she stopped outside the girl’s door. He could smell her perfume. He closed his eyes and let his senses absorb her fragrance. He could hear her breathing, and he was sure he could feel her breath on his cheek. She was barely two inches away, and he wanted to reach out and touch her. He opened his eyes and moved the door open just a fraction, and he could see her. She was right in front of him, and he felt his body heat up. He was getting light-headed, and he put his fingers slightly though the crack in the door. He could almost feel her. He looked at her face; she was lost in thought. Just another millimetre more, and he would feel her skin on his fingertips. He could feel the heat of her skin. He moved his hand forward again, and his finger brushed the fine hair on her arm. Startled from her daydream, she scratched the spot where his fingers touched and walked away from the door.