I’m Watching You.

Decided I’m ready to post some of the stuff I dabble in from time to time.


This was an interesting experiment. Got a little artsy and wrote it as it popped into my head. I just wrote it down as I “heard” myself think it.  It didn’t win or place in the contest and I did not expect it to but I did have fun going in a different direction this time. (I’ve won that contest before anyway) I write fiction sometimes but none of what I write is 100 percent made up in my head. The shit I know….the things I remember..well, they inspire me and make me trying new things. This essay is creepy and it’s not sweet or girlie or uplifting.  It is about two people, the demise of a relationship and the level we can sink to as human beings who at one time actually were able to love.  So yeah, entering it in a women’s writing contest probably was a surefire way not to win or place but hey, I can post it on my blog now. It’s mine and I enjoyed writing it. I left the breaks inserted so it would read easier…a little less confusing …can’t expect you to be in my head to hear it lol.


I’m Watching You

     I’m watching you. You’re coming down the driveway more slowly than usual in your shiny new silver Lexus – a gift to yourself with your first big pay cheque. Don’t see the kids in the car. They must be at your parents’ – again. I wonder if you’ve assumed I’m coming with you on your little work jaunt?  A jaunt you only decided to tell me about last night, Emma? And you wonder why I get angry.  You deliberately tell me about these things at the last minute knowing I won’t be able to join you. You get to go off on your own and do whatever you want with whomever you please and when you come home, it’s the same bull shit story about how I would have been bored anyway because you were tied up in meetings all weekend long. You’ve been lying for years, but for the last two, I’ve known your secret.

      I’m watching you. Sitting in the car, running your hands through your hair, sighing. You seem stressed. Stressed because I’m onto you and everything’s unraveling. The kids aren’t respectful, your work’s slipping; friendships are falling apart and you’re telling anyone who’ll listen, it’s my fault.

     I’m watching you. You look haggard, my dear.  You’re beauty has faded because inside you’re selfish and ugly.  All your lies are catching up to you and everyone is realizing the truth about you. I’m tired of the cheating and the lies and I’m sick of fighting. And those men? They can have you but before they do, I will watch you walk through a maze of misery.  I will watch you taste a fraction of the bitterness you fed me before you watch me go.


     “Hayden?  …  You here? … You coming?  Hayden, I’m heading out!”     God,I hate coming home.  Who am I kidding? This hasn’t been a home in years. It’s a prison … a hell hole.  Whatever we thought we had is dead. That’s why I cheat on you darlin…to feel alive…to feel something. And now, I have to deal with you. 

“Hayden!”  Hmm…Not here. Good.  I’ll get my bag and head out. “Oh shit!”


         Did I scare you, Em?  Didn’t expect to walk into our bedroom to the sudden blare of our wedding song, huh?  I’m watching you prop yourself against the door, gasping. Startled, honey? Well be prepared to be scared.


     What…Is that…is that glass ? “No…NO, NO, NO! Hayden!”


     Follow the broken glass, Emma. Watch your step.


     “Oh, my God!”


     Oh, it’s blood, just not mine. Oh, the convenience of living in the country.


     “Hayden! Answer me!”


     You’re following the path perfectly. I am watching you run to the stable.  You’ve haven’t taken care or ridden those horses in years. Don’t worry, they’re fine. Careful rushing in there. Might want to look up.


     “Hayden, no!”   What? WaitWhat the hell is this?  Why did he do this?  “Hayden! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?… HAYDEN!”


     Were you concerned it was me hanging from the rafters? Don’t worry. Just a couple oat bags. I’d never hurt myself , Emma.  I just want to hurt you.


     “Hayden! Asshole!  I HATE you!  Where are you?  WHERE ARE YOU?”


     I am watching you.  You’re running across the field towards me.  I can hear the snap of the twigs under your feet. Your knees buckle and you stumble. Your too short white skirt is torn; your hands and knees smeared with blood and dirt.  I can hear you breathing, panting, sobbing.  I can hear and see your fear. Your face is ghostly white. I slowly rise up from my lair in the long, wild grass, my fingers slowly brushing up the long blades as I rise to my feet, grasping you tightly. You’re screaming hysterically. Your eyes wild, lips quivering, body trembling. Our eyes meet and I recognize the second you understand what I’ve done to you. Your frail body goes limp in my arms and I lay you on the ground.  You sink deep into the long grass and as you look up at me in disbelief with your sunken eyes and drawn cheeks, I notice how tiny you are and how easily I could end you.  But I won’t in spite of all you’ve done to me, to us and our family. In this moment, I am not angry but euphoric.

“Why?” you manage to whisper.

“Because it’s my turn to hurt you,”

“You were watching me all this time?”


“You’re a sick bastard,”

“So are you.  Enjoy your trip.  Goodbye, Emma,”

You are sobbing. I turn and walk away. I feel you watching me.  It’s over between us, now. I have closure and I’m ready to start living again.


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