Dark Obsession

Chapter Six: He Knows My Silence

I’ve stopped talking to people.

Not because I’m angry.

Not because I’m scared of them.

But because he listens harder when I’m silent.

That’s how I found the fourth note—not in a public place, not on my car, not on the mirror. It was under my tongue.

Yes.

I woke up with the bitter taste of paper in my mouth. Rolled tight, like a secret I’d swallowed in my sleep. I choked. Coughed until it dropped onto my pillow, damp and curling at the edges.

> “Even when you say nothing… I hear you.”

It took everything in me not to scream. I wanted to throw the paper. Burn it. Call someone—anyone. But the truth was, I couldn’t trust anyone. Not even myself.

Because somewhere in all this, a part of me had begun to respond. Not with letters. Not with messages. But with behavior.

I closed the blinds more often.

I changed my route to work.

I hesitated before stepping into the shower.

He noticed. I know he did. Because the next day, I received a package—wrapped in black paper, tied with a red string.

Inside was a dress.

A long, silky red one… the exact shade I’d paused to admire weeks ago in a boutique window. I never told anyone about that dress. I didn’t buy it. I just stood there for a moment and imagined what it would feel like on my skin.

He knew.

He saw.

He remembered.

There was no note this time. Just the dress—and a dried rose tucked inside the folds.

I should have burned it. I should have screamed. I should have done anything but what I did.

I held it up to my body in the mirror.

And for the first time in days, I smiled.

Only for a second.

But I did.