It took time to shape the world I wanted to create for her. I wanted everything to be just right, just how she had always wanted it. It meant doing some research, finding out about her: about what she liked and disliked, loved and hated, wanted and disdained. This meant I had to follow her around as she went about her life. I had to go to the places she went to, see the people she saw and visit everywhere she visited.
Of course, if you have the talents I have, such things are not hard. All I needed was something of hers I could use. Some way through to her so I could, albeit at one remove, see what she saw, talk with whom she talked with, ate what she ate and experience all she experienced.
She knew – somehow – that something was wrong. When I wormed my way into her life, her thoughts, her experiences, she sensed something was not right, as though there was something there. Often, when she thought she was alone, I’d catch her, spinning round trying to catch sight of whatever it was that was watching her. Then telling herself she did not believe in ghosts and wondering if she was turning paranoid, or if some shadowy government agency had – somehow – put her into one of its files by mistake.
Whatever it was, I knew she thought, she would one day break free of it. But she was wrong, I had decided that she was mine and that one day I would take her away from all she’d ever known and keep her for myself in a world I’d made especially for her.
I could hardly wait to see the look on her face when she realised all I had done for her.
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