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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1307879-The-Watcher
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #1307879
One woman with an ongoing curiosity.
THE WATCHER

She wasn’t a creep… or at least, she didn’t think she was.  Besides, even if she was, which she wasn’t, the word “creep” would be too harsh.  Cautious, yes, that would suit her nicely.  She was just being overly careful.  After all, anything could happen to a girl who was alone in the city, even if she was well past her thirty’s.  There was no such thing as being too careful.
         She smiled to herself.  Men are creepy, but women are just careful, or too nosy.  She supposed she was a little bit of both, but she for sure wasn’t a man, and that made her a lot more comfortable with what she was doing.
         She reached out and closed the curtains.  No use taking the risk of having anyone see her.  It’s not that she was embarrassed about what she was doing, just that not very many people would understand it. 
         She was a watcher.  The smile on her face grew ever so slightly wider.  Yes, a watcher.  If it were a man he’d be a Peeping Tom, but she was a woman, so it was just watching.  Watching for what?  What did it matter?  She was a woman, so nobody would question it for a moment.
         She reached underneath her bed, and pulled out a box.  She held the box in her lap, but refused to open it up right away, teasing herself a bit.  A little bit of tease always helped in heightening her satisfaction in the end.  Her fingers rubbed the top of the box, right over a phrase she had written many years ago, when her habit had first started.  It said “The Eye of the World”, and every time she opened up that box she felt like she could be watching everything in the world.
         You’ve teased yourself long enough, she thought to herself, just open the box and get down to business.  She pulled the top off the box and stared for a few seconds at her pride and joy; A pair of binoculars that were given to her on her eleventh birthday.  Her dad had wanted her to be a bird watcher or something, but she found that watching human beings was much more interesting. 
         She picked up her treasure and basked in its familiar grip.  She felt complete in a way that no other material need or human companionship could ever do.  All she would ever need was right there in her hands.
         She slowly walked over to the window.  She had to be extra careful now.  If she moved the curtains too much, someone could see her.  Not that she had to worry too much, she was on the 37th floor, and nobody could look up and see her.  But what if someone was on the same floor, doing the same thing she was?  That would be creepy, especially if it was a guy.
         She put the binoculars to her head, and used them to part the curtains ever so slightly.  Her apartment’s window was facing the building across the street, and luckily for her most of her neighbors didn’t close their curtains at this time of night.  They all thought they were safe at 7:30 P.M., that people were eating supper and wouldn’t want to peer inside.  Little did they know that she was there, the Eye of the World.
         She focused on the left-hand side first.  She liked to observe the building as if it were a book, a book written in a language that only she could read with her binoculars.  She peered in on the first window that had no curtains, a light shining brightly as if specifically calling her attention.  Inside, she saw a man and a woman, and it looked like they were having some sort of argument.
         Figures, she thought, men are always arguing with us.  Haven’t they realized that women are always right?  She looked a little closer.  The woman was poking the man in the chest pretty angrily.  He must have done something stupid, like men ever do anything that’s useful or intelligent.  The man grabbed her hand to stop the poking, was that tears in his eyes?  Did the poor little man get his chest hurt from the poking?  Well, if he didn’t, that smack sure as hell did.  Good for you, girl.  That idiot must have deserved it.
         She heard something off in the distance.  What was that noise?  Was it the sound of the smack reaching her ears?  No, that wasn’t it.  This sound was higher pitched, and more insistent.  She tore her eyes away from the binoculars to focus… and it was her phone ringing.  Damn it, why does the phone always ring at the worst possible moments?  She was just getting comfortable.
         She went over to the desk to answer the phone.  “Hello?”  She heard the voice on the other end, and immediately regretted leaving her world to answer it.
         “Hey hey heeeey pretty lady.”  It was Jordon, a junkie that she used to date.  If he didn’t have a needle sticking out of his arm, he was looking for one.
         “What do you want, man.  I’m busy over here.” 
         “I’m sure you are.  We’re having a little get together in a couple of hours, you in?”
         “A party with dope fiends and assholes, sounds like a blast but I’m gonna pass.”  Why wouldn’t he hurry this conversation up so she could get back to the window?
         Jordon chuckled on the other end of the phone.  “You’re makin’ us all sound bad over here.  Well, it’s an open invitation, so if you decide to change your mind, like all women do just to screw with ours, feel free to pop on by.”
         “Whatever.  Bye.”  With that, she hung up the phone and practically ran to the window again.  There’s no telling what she could have missed while she was talking to that doped up loser.
         She brought the binoculars up to her eyes and immediately went to the window with the couple, but the light was out.  Damn it all to hell, that idiot Jordon kept her away from what may have been an all night thing.  It was all that stupid kids fault.
         Her sight started moving along the building, searching for something else.  There was no way that that was the only thing going on tonight.  Not in that building, there was always something going on.  A little bit to the right she saw a cat sleeping next to a window, but there was nothing else.
         A flash of light caught her attention near the bottom of the building.  She immediately focused down there… but there was nothing.  No light, no movement of curtains, nothing.  She told herself to calm down, that she was just being paranoid.  Nobody knew what she was doing, she was safe. 
         A slight movement to the left caught her attention.  This was different then the flash of light, this was a couple in bed.  They weren’t fighting though, they were kissing passionately.  She focused in on that.  Finally something worth observing.  Before realizing it, her eyes were half closed and her left hand had drifted away from the binoculars.  This was a surprise, she didn’t think tonight would be a good night for this kind of spy… no, she wasn’t spying.  She was watching.  There was nothing wrong with watching.
         Back at the couple in bed.  The man was kissing the woman with such passion, it was almost like he was in love with her, but that couldn’t be.  Men don’t love, they lust, woman love then get heartbroken by men.  The man slowly lowered one of his hands to the woman’s breast.  Without realizing it, the watcher started to lower her own hand to herself, feeling how soft her flesh was.  It had been almost four years since someone had caressed her, even if it was in a fake lustful way.
         She focused on the room again, but the lights had gone out.  Suddenly, another flash of light like before, this time she turned right away to see the person.  It was only a few windows away from the passion couple, and… it was a man with a camera!
         The Watcher bolted away from the window.  It just wasn’t possible, how could someone they have known?  Was it just a coincidence?  No, he must have known, that was twice they had taken her picture.  That was the flash she had seen, it must have been.  But… why did it turn her on so much?  Did she like being watched as much as she liked watching?
         She had to get out, right now.  Jordon was having a party of some sort, and that sounded like just the kind of stress reliever she needed.  She got up, put the Eye of the World back in the box, and tucked it back under her bed.  She then grabbed her house keys and left her apartment, locking up behind her.  She wondered if that photographer would be there tomorrow, and a small smile played on her face once more.
© Copyright 2007 Chris Taylor (chris_taylor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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