6 • Anxious ; Interested

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His brain, it was chaos. Filled with a crackling static set at an intolerable volume whilst it tried to drown out the background noise of the voice inside his head screaming at him to do anything but continue to watch this girl. It warned him to look immediately away. To detach and shield his eyes, for what they were witnessing was wrong. The words battering his brain, the blood rushing cold through his veins and the nerves igniting in flame and cracking like several whips inside his limbs; they all tried to stop him...

But he just couldn't.

Her body, he found... was beautiful.

And although every inch of him was screaming that what he was doing was wrong, he felt he had to study her before time ran out. Brendon knew not what time he was chasing quite yet, but he still let this excuse lock his eyes on as much of her body as he could see. He took in every inch of her that he could, as it soothed his tired eyes to examine her bare skin carefully; and although it would have made sense for his actions at this moment in time to be caused by pure lust, nothing about the way he viewed her was done sexually.

He found himself, instead, inspecting her delicately like a piece of art hung in a museum. Like she was something magnificent; a masterpiece too precious for this world. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and caress the brush strokes, to touch the tips of his fingers against the texture of the canvas, to let himself feel the surge of emotion the creator poured into this work of art...

But as his fingertips fell longingly against the cold glass of his bedroom window, his mind fell out of its blissful trance as well.

Coming back into his proper mind was like escaping an enchanted dream to find yourself victim of a slow-motion car crash. His grip tightened around his binoculars like they were the steering wheel, and he was alerted by the headlights of an oncoming car, filling him with terror. But these so-called headlights came, instead, in the form of two bright blue eyes... the same pair that had begun to always catch him when he chose to look anyways.

Just like last time, the binoculars fell into his lap. Just like last time, he flipped the blinds completely closed. And just like last time, his head filled with dreaded thoughts, but this time the static had cleared almost completely and all that was left was a whispering echo in the background filling the last quiet spaces in his mind with a million taunting, 'I told you so's

His head fell to his hands, as a dull throb began to thump at his temples, each second growing louder and louder like the marching of thousands preparing to take him away. The nonstop noise was bringing him closer and closer to insanity, as he twisted his head back and forth, pushing his palms harder and harder against his ears, and the sides of his head until... he stopped.

Turning his head to face his locked bedroom door, he realized that the noise was, in fact, not his head, but footsteps outside of his room. They trailed stridently down the hall, 'thump', 'thump', 'thump'. Seconds later, he heard the front door swing open, and dove to his window to see what was going on.

There Harris was, hopping down the porch steps with swagger, and marching down the driveway; confidence invisibly illuminating his body.

"Where the hell is he going?" Brendon whispered to himself in frustration, pressing his sweaty forehead against the freezing glass. As his nephew passed by his own car, Brendon's body involuntarily began to tighten anxiously.

The boy began to walk closer and closer to the street, and closer and closer to her house. The wetness in Brendon's mouth became a sandy displeasure as his eyes darted back and forth between the naked girl walking around her bedroom and his teenage nephew making his way up to her residence.

"No, no, no, don't you fucking dare."

Brendon watched, puzzled, as Harris stopped at her mailbox and grabbed a piece of paper from it, stopping for a second to read it quickly. Then, he was continuing to walk once again. With each step Harris took up to her doorstep, Brendon's heart rate quickened.

Creep || Brendon UrieWhere stories live. Discover now