They shook my hand when they moved in, which I really liked. Especially when he did it. He has a strong sense of self, I could feel it from the way he gripped my hand, palm against palm. He’s very beautiful. His wife is fine. He’s very beautiful, although I think I’ve told you that before, in which case you must pardon me. He likes to wake up early, before his wife. They have the curtains drawn in their bedroom in the morning, but I can tell that the lights are switched on at 5 am. He goes to the bathroom first, where he is hidden by the frosted glass and heavy fog of the shower. Then to the kitchen, where they have no barrier between themselves and I. I become less a voyeur and more a casual observer, a student of human behaviour, when I don’t have to guess what’s happening behind the thin piece of white cloth. He is very beautiful. He wakes up his kids along with his wife. I don’t particularly care for kids. They are a necessity to create more adults, I understand that, I internalize that, but their questions are long and rambling and I get lost in their little minds. Their thoughts and ideas are not yet fully formed for consumption by others yet. His little daughter, who is five, although her birthday is in March, once asked me why I wasn’t married and I decided right then, that when she brings home her first boyfriend, I’m going to seduce him. I’ll make him fall in love with me, take his virginity and break his heart so badly that he’ll never love again. I’ll shatter him. Maybe then she won’t get married either.
He’s very beautiful, though. You have to be quiet. I’m talking to you quietly and you have to follow what I do. I’m sorry about all this. I don’t want him to think that I’m crazy, which is why I’ve decided not to fuck his daughters first boyfriend, even though I was pretty set on it for a little while. I had it all planned, I even had the outfit picked out.
I just like to watch him. I watch the others when he isn’t home, just as a casual observer, but he’s my favourite. He’s like a clockwork, so I plan my day according to his. I sleep when he’s at work, and then sit by the window to catch him coming home. He goes to bed at 10:40 pm. Sometimes he fucks his wife before going to sleep. They usually draw the curtains, but not always. He looks very gentle. Don’t tell anyone, although I think he would like to know that I watch him. I think he likes to be watched. He’s a perverted fucking freak in that way, it’s truly disgusting, it makes me gag, it makes me want to just die. But that passes and again it’s just him, his wife and I. I’m telling you this in confidence. His wife can’t find out how he likes that I watch them. She wouldn’t find it prudent. That’s the kind of girl she is, but I know he wants someone sicker than that. Someone who wants to watch and be watched by him.
They have three children, all of them ugly, but I could learn to love them. Anyone can potentially be loved. I would dye their little blond heads the same beautiful chestnut colour their father has. The oldest is already starting to darken on his own, which suits him very well. He’s the one that looks the most like his father, and so he’s the one I like the best. He’s going to be beautiful one day.
His wife doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m too jittery and nervous, but what she doesn’t see is that I’m not nervous around her. I’m angry. She’s a whore. She should repent. She’s a disgusting freak of nature. I want her to come to church with me, so I can pin her against the altar and nail her hands against the wood, cut another man’s name into her flesh and let her bleed out, right there. Her warm blood on a cold stone floor. I’m sorry. It all got away from me for a while there. She’s fine.
I’m going to kill her.
I’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone.