Andrew & The Girl Out The Window: Part III

Start with Part I here

She comes back through the parking lot. This time I’m not disciplined. I can’t stop thinking about her. I must schedule my time with her. I mustn’t get fired.

Her shirt is hanging off her shoulder and I notice a small tear in the fabric. She’s spilled ketchup on herself again, this time on her jeans. She seems lost. Bewildered. Hurt. I want to kill someone. I want to find the bastard hiding at the end of her daily sojourn, rip his jaw off and shove it up his ass with my bare hands. Just like in the movies. I could do it. I could protect her. She needs me.

I will always be here for you. Always watching.

Everyone leaves early on Friday. Except me. She doesn’t leave early so I don’t leave early. I barely notice my dick-faced colleagues saying good-bye. They are like weeds to me anyways. They infest my life, sucking away at me much like the neon machine in front of me. They get in the way. I want to tell them to fuck off.

Then she’s in my sights again. My entire body relaxes into a pool of blood and oxygen that satiates me forever. I touch the window, dragging my finger across the glass as she walks. This is what it feels like to touch her. She’s cold and unfeeling but I love her. I can feel her whenever I want to. I hope she can feel me.

She stops. Just outside her car door. I freeze. I want to run, but this is the moment. The moment my entire body has been priming me for. The moment that will set heaven on fire and confirm that she is mine forever.

Look at me. Look at me! I will her.

My eyes are boring into her the same way I want my body to fuck her. Long. Hard. Powerful.

She looks my direction but she does not look at me. She hesitates. Her face looks worried.

Don’t be afraid, little one. I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. I just want you to see me. Drink me in. Feel my soul inside yours, breaking through the pores of your every limb as I discover what you really are. I breathe deeply.

Too much. It’s too much. Don’t look. Turn around. Go away. I can’t do this. It’s too soon and I will lose you. I shrink back, petrified by my candidacy. Her bold green eyes watch another window nearby. She doesn’t look scared anymore. Now she looks angry. I notice her jeans are clean and her shirt is repaired. But now her face is torn and marred.

What do you want, baby? Tell me and I will give it to you.

She gets in the car and drives away. I slouch into my chair, exhaustion and shame taking over. I almost let her see me. I’m stupid. Very stupid. But I can feel her pull always. Even now the trajectory of her vehicle is dragging me along, miles behind. I am always with her.

The weekend is long and harrowing. I don’t want to do anything. I want to go to my office. I want to look out the window. I want to watch her. That’s all. I want my wife to go away. I want my kids to die. They’re keeping me imprisoned from what I really want.

I can’t stand it anymore. I go back to work. My wife says I’m a workaholic. She has no idea… I’ve never gotten to work so quickly. No one is there. This makes no sense. She won’t be here. But I want her to be. I will her to be.

I sit in my chair, in front of the hunk of metal and wires that has become my malevolent dictator. I don’t turn it on. I’d like to not turn it on every day. I stare out the window.

And there she is. Clear as day. Right in front of me in the parking lot. I don’t see her car. But she is here. Dressed so simply once again, no sad face, no ripped clothing. She is looking around, turning in circles. She is mumbling. I’m tantalized. Endorphins are racing and I feel like superman. No one can make me feel like this. Only her.

She stops cold and looks at me.

She’s looking at me. At me. Right now. She sees me. My breath hitches and I begin to shake. Adrenaline is rushing – too fast, far too fast. My hands start hitting the office window, punching, itching to break through. I have to be beside her now. My hands hurt. They are bleeding and broken. She is still staring. I step onto my desk and throw my whole body into the window. I have to have her now. She needs me. I have to be with her. I can’t let her leave. The glass is too hard. I’m bruised. I’m bruised but I’m alive with excitement. Her entire body is sending rays of want to me, trying to pull me in, trying to feel me. I caress the glass, tears trickling down like rain. I can’t move. Only towards her. And I can’t get through.

And then she’s gone. I crumble to the floor. Her power has left me and I want to die. I want to die without her. I scream. I beg someone to kill me so my spirit can seep inside her and absorb every last drop of juice that surges through her flesh. I want to lick her, eat her, engorge myself in her blood. And I can’t. I don’t want anything. Nothing anymore.

I open my eyes, searching for a way to die. A tool. Something sharp.

And she is beside me. She is back. And the sun shines. Like the light of a million swords ready to smash my defeat into a swarm of sparkling radiating crystals. I have her back. She won’t leave this time.

I scale her body head to toe, drinking in every inch. I notice her hand by her side. She has ketchup on it again. No. No, it’s not ketchup.

I can’t think. I can only stare.

She speaks.

“Do you want me?”

I search for my voice. It’s hard to find. I dig deep. I manage a whisper.

“Yes, I want y-”

Be patient, Jake & The Girl Out The Window is coming soon…

One thought on “Andrew & The Girl Out The Window: Part III

  1. Pingback: Andrew & The Girl Out the Window: Part II | Writers of the Rain

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