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In all fairness, it was for the sake of improving my writing. I couldn’t write about injuries if I had never seen the true life results.
Had I pushed this too far?
To own one.
Movies and books make it look easy when they show how people hold others captive. My set-up wasn’t perfect, but it would hold up for now.
At this point, I still didn’t feel bad about what I was doing.
I felt peace. Insomnia was not my enemy that night. I fell asleep without my medication. It felt good.
I was doing her a favor. This was what she wanted, right? She was a fan. What kind of fan wouldn’t want special treatment?
Marcy was still crying. Speaking even. Her words fell on deaf ears. I wasn’t listening. My words were more important than hers.
My innards were tingling, Marcy’s precious face looking like she was crying blood, even though she was unconscious.
My mind needed sleep. I didn’t even go to bed. Instead, I laid at the top of the stairs, letting the sounds of her tears soothe me to sweet dreams. With a smile on my face, I slept.
People are scarier than demons, because people are very real and they’re everywhere.
