The First: Open Windows

Chapter One - Kaidon

Her windows are open again.

The pungent smell of weed and her perfume lazily trail out of her window. Considering how strong the latter is I just caught her when she was still smoking.

A dainty hand with well kept nails and a smattering of tiny scars holding a burning half joint in between two fingers pops out the window and ashes it over the window ledge.

Yep, Still smoking.

The smoke lifts up slowly as at last her face comes into view the closer I get to her window. Eyes made red by the m*******a, a sultry look in her eyes as she watches herself in the mirror, lip syncing lyrics to the music that always seems to be playing in her mind. Especially on silent nights like these.

I stay absolutely still when I get close enough and watch. Like I have been doing since I first saw her. Letting myself indulge in the strange deep comfort I feel from simply looking at this human.

My presence is concealed as always but I don't get too close to where she is. Her ability to sense the presence of supernatural beings was intense so her mind was probably strongly neuro-divergent, I fear she might see me if I get too close, or sense me at the very least.

I get one small step closer and lean against the wall opposite her window, letting my leg rest against it so I can get comfortable. My arms cross over my chest as I settle in and her eyes make a sudden shift in my direction and the slight sensation that we might have just made eye contact passes through me. How she does it I never know.

It's like she can see me and yet at the same time I know she cannot. She always looks straight at me like that. The first time it happened, I freaked out and knocked up a bunch of cans next to her window as I ran away thinking she had seen me despite my camouflage.

That's when I first noticed she could sense something, she just didn't know what it was, and neither did she even seem to care. Some people would have called an exorcist or at least a pastor maybe even a bodyguard by now but she simply brushed it off.

She takes another long draw of her joint and deeply inhales it, her chest rises making the left shoulder of her oversized t-shirt slide off exposing her neckline and smooth skin. A slight hint of lavender and cocoa mixes in the breeze from whatever lotion she lavished her body with before I got here, and the dampness of her hair tells me she's fresh out of the bathroom.

"Meow"

"Meow"

"Meow"

Ah, Bruce, her kitten is with her today. I hate to admit it but I never, in all my years, thought they'd come a day when I would be extremely jealous of a bloody feline that wasn't even a quarter my size.

She places her joint into her little snuff box before picking up the blasted thing that had a striking resemblance to a cow in my opinion. Black and white with delicate little paws but unlike the rest of its species, it seemed to have an aversion to being able to keep itself clean. And yet here she is, covering it in kisses like she gave birth to the darn creature.

"Hey booboo, did you sleep well?"

"Meow"

"Are you hungry?"

"Meow, meow, meow"

"Should I get you something to eat?"

"Meow"

He's purring so loudly I can hear it all the way from my wall and it peeves me that this even has the power to irritate me.

There's a clear communication barrier between them but it is quite obvious that there is a mutual love as well.

She stands up cuddling Bruce as he's busy trying to find a way to mold himself into her body.

Stop pawing at her boobs Bruce, no milk for you there.

She leaves the room to go feed and put him away for the night and so I get closer to her window and take a look inside, same bed by the wall, a pale yellow mosquito net over it, the single sofa is at the foot of her bed, the dressing mirror besides the window is a little messy with writing materials all over the place. She must have gotten inspiration to write again tonight.

Her stories were comedic and spontaneous but also hinted at how much of a romantic she was at heart, the lyrics and poems she wrote however, were the place she would let her heart bleed into the pages and pour raw emotions into the ink and every time I read one about her sorrows, I wanted to search for whomever had caused her so much pain, and burn them at the stake for being so careless with their words and actions towards her. Her latest piece lies on the very top of the pile and I can't help my curiosity.

With a single thought, I am inside her room and take a proper look at her writing,

'The Child Of My Desires'

I jumped into a puddle

And beneath me I found a lake

It’s not that deep, they’d said

But down into the dark it led

What even made you jump? I ask myself

My desires, she answers

That I’d worn upon my face like a clown does his makeup

That I’d sang off upon the hills and beckoned in every street

They prey on those of us who want the most

And leave us with nothing

And dote on those who desire the least

And they take everything

Absurdity declaring it a normalcy

As your life is becoming like a void

Walking down a tunnel that promises the light will always be furthest from your reach

The never-ending silence that knows no echoes

My breath is so quiet I do not know if I breathe

Is this the feeling they call melancholy ?

That I once feared but have now come to accept

It’s cold embrace warmer than the touch of any lover I’ve ever bedded

Its screaming reticence much sweeter than all the lies I’d ever been fed

The awareness that it does not exist and

it’s all inside my head

And yet nothing has ever been this close

This willing

This loving

Oh Sweet Solitude, my child

My weakness and my strength

How I long to keep you

Even when I know I do not need you.

A beautiful piece as always. She didn't try to hide the motive behind the words and her clarity gives a sense of acceptance of something she has been running from. A beautiful lost soul. Pretty.

Her footsteps pull me back to the room and they resonate closer with each step announcing her return to the room, I turn to the door just as she walks in and hold my breathe. Her braids have fallen around her face and over her shoulders, the island shaped birthmarks on her left shoulder and right upper thigh peek at me as she flutters around the room putting clothes and papers away in nothing else but the oversized t-shirt that's barely covering her ass. I'm mindful to stay out of her way, taking the necessary steps around her as she works in her space. I stand next to the door to avoid bumping into her and once again she suddenly pauses turning to look directly at my corner. Again, this girl's awareness was something supernatural.

She brushes it off and continues what she is doing, once the last notebook is set aside, her windows are next now that the scent of weed has subsided from her room, she finally closes the curtain and goes in front of her dresser where she puts her hair up over her head placing it in a high bun with a few pieces hanging loose here and there.

I can't help getting closer to her when she exposes her skin like that, careful to stop myself, I take a small breathe at the nape of her neck and feel a slight head rush from the fragrance that is completely her. Cannabis, lavender and cocoa.

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror and she places a hand on the place I just was, the temptation to reveal my presence and devour her strong, but I'm not trying to look like a savage so I restrain myself taking a step back to simply admire her.

It's been almost a month since I first saw her, she was a new face to me but the right questions got me to know she was a resident of the area, albeit a rare one, but she had been around for a while so I was hoping she had no where else she wanted to go to.

Her eyes meet her own in the mirror as she lightly touches the back of her neck and then slides her fingers gently down past her collar bone to the valley of her breasts and goes lower to the hem of her shirt.

My body freezes as I realize what she might be doing but I decide not to draw early conclusions. Her eyes switch to the area where I am again and she slightly lifts up the fabric. The light brown birthmark is now in full glory against her milk chocolate skin, my restraint is working overtime but she suddenly stops disarming me entirely.

She drops the shirt and goes back to settling herself before bed, putting away little knickknacks and making notes for the next day. She sets an alarm to wake her up bright and early before doing the routine scent check to make sure she completely eliminates the smell of pot in the house.

Going by the time on her phone, I have to be at a meeting in the next thirty minutes so I should be on my way by now.

I'll just wait until she's in bed before I leave.