Young Writers Society

I can feel you watching. Hunting me. Have you learnt good dogs don't bite? It's time I show you the truth. You think you're so stealthy, hiding in the bushes, biding your time.

Why don't I give you a nice show?

What if I accidentally forget to close the curtains while I shower? There's a nice large tree for you to hide behind. What if I take off my shirt nice and slow for you? I can feel your gaze on me, I can taste your hunger in the air. Do you like the look of my scars? The little lines down my arms? I'll peel the band-aids off just for you, maybe when you finally grow some balls you'll break in and take them off me yourself. Maybe you'll leave some more. Would you kiss them better afterwards, or would you pry your fingers inside and tear my flesh a little more?

It's so unfair, you watch me, and yet I know nothing of you. You'd better not let me down. I expect great things of you. I want my death to be at your hands, after all. You'd better make it worthwhile. Will you say pretty things at the funeral? Will you even go? The speech better be as pretty as my screaming will be, maybe you could even play a recording of it for everyone. I would love to see their faces when they realise it's what I wanted.

Every waking hour you're on my mind, and I know I am on yours, too. You think you're slick, but I know exactly how much you want this. Planning every last detail. I wonder if you know I see you? Your beautiful eyes in the shadows, cutting through the darkness, cutting through my flesh. My body is ready for you, I just need you to come take me -- to my grave, that is. Will you leave a pretty bouquet? Blood-red roses, just for me? Or maybe something withered and rotten is a better fit. I have a gift for you, too. I've been collecting every stray hair of mine that falls from my body. No, not my head hair. It's in a darling little jar that I'll swallow for you, and then you can slice it out of me! What fun!

The warmth of the water feels cold on my skin, how could I ever feel warm when I'm not in your grasp? When my blood is on the inside of my body? Will you bathe in it with me, perhaps? Hold my corpse tight, sink those darling teeth inside my throat and tear it out? Will you wash my hair, massage my blood into my skin? How romantic of you! You really know how to make a man swoon. I'd say I would blush, but it will be a little hard, so you will have to paint it on me with my own blood, right on my soft cheeks. Maybe you should give them a little kiss while you're at it, and tell my body how good I feel in death. If only I could hold on to hear it.

Will you kiss me as I finally cross through into the afterlife, or will you bite through my bottom lip? Is there even an afterlife for me? No heaven will be as good as your love feels.

Do you like my little show? Are you hungry for dinner? I'll walk naked through the house and lay on the dining table for you, and I'll call out to my pup. It's dinner time, come be a good boy and eat up, otherwise it might get cold. Don't disappoint me again. For the past week, I've left all my doors and windows unlocked, but you still haven't come. I'm heartbroken, really. Do you need a written invitation or a big neon sign? How dense are you! Do you enjoy teasing me, or are you truly just too afraid to go through with it?

Maybe all my pinning was for nothing. Maybe I'll have to teach you a lesson. I'll crawl up into the attic, I hope the spiders like the view of me, and out will come my favourite tool. No, no, don't you dare try to run now. You'll learn what happens to people who lead me on. It's not like anyone will miss you, I will only ever miss what I wanted you to be anyway. Such a waste. Cover your ears, and keep your eyes wide open, you're lucky I'm giving you such a beautiful last scene, you hardly even deserve that.

What a mess you've left for me. I'll have to hose off your brains from my driveway now. How inconsiderate. You could have at the very least fallen onto the grass. Give me a look at your body - is that my name in your chest? What neat carving. I'll frame it on my wall! Thank you for this parting gift, pup, I'll cherish it forever. And don't fret, I can still feel you looking up at me from hell. Why don't I give you another show?