She looked out her bedroom window to see a man standing beside the naked tree across the street. The crunchy leaves on the ground surrounded his combat boots and large pants. The man was covered head to toe in clothing, bundled up for the weather. He seemed to drown in clothes next to the bare tree. Her eyes were pinned on the man. She recognized the black sunglasses he wore.
The week before she had gone to the drug store for gum. As she looked at the different options lit by the fluorescent light: spearmint, bubblegum, chocolate chip, peppermint, citrus orange. She had a bad habit of indecisiveness. She side-eyed the man beside her, hating the idea of eye contact with a stranger. She noticed his black clothing and matching sunglasses. He picked up the peppermint and left. She looked over at the counter as he checked out. He was tall and quiet; blending into his surroundings. She picked up the peppermint gum and went home, thinking of the sunglass man.
She walked away from her window and the man, moving on with other business of the day. Every once in a while, she would circle back, checking to see if he was still there. Some days he was, other days he wasn’t. It became part of her routine, like checking the time. Is the sunglass man here today?
She started keeping her blinds open and lights on at night, giving him the perfect view, like a spotlight. He always wore his sunglasses, even when the sun had set hours earlier. She liked this spectator, no longer invisible to everyone around her. He cared, he showed up for her. She no longer felt the need to hide from the world. This girl pretended she didn’t see him like she had no idea he even existed. It was more fun that way. She would creep into her room in just her towel and dripping hair. Unbothered, her towel would drop and she would get dressed for the night. Sometimes he would step closer to her window, farther from his tree.
On a special day, her hot breath fogged up the window as she looked outside to find he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there for quite some time. She feared he would be gone forever and a chill went up her spine. The silence broke when she heard a hanger in her closet move so slightly. She froze in place, listening intently to every sound, his slow breaths were heavy from the pounds of clothes stuffed in the small space. She looked through the crack to see the shiny blackness of his glasses. Her eyes stayed on them, she wanted him to know that she knew.
She was a smart girl, she knew it wasn’t any good. You shouldn’t trust men who follow you. But that’s what she found so intriguing, the fact that she shouldn’t let him do all this. Though no words had been spoken, he didn't feel like a stranger.
That night she willingly walked into her room, humming her favorite song. She started dancing in the dim light, teasing him with the movement of her body. She flipped through a magazine, talking and laughing to herself. Then, she turned off her lamp and fell asleep to the sound of his muffled breathing and calculated shifts.
At midnight, the stars and the moon were hidden behind the rainy clouds. The streetlight lit her pale face through the wide-open blinds. She kept her eyes closed as she heard the closet door slowly open. She pretended to sleep the same way as when her parents would check on her during the night; she quickly would stuff her book and flashlight under her pillow.
She felt the man's weight on her bed, and she could feel his big black coat and combat boots. Their lips met each other and she kept her eyes closed the whole time. She was afraid if she opened her eyes he would disappear. His rubber-gloved hands caressed her pink cheeks and long hair. Her eyes finally opened to meet his sunglasses and a pocket knife to her throat.
As he carved into her skin, she smiled.
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