Restless. (And then you're gone.)

You torment me. Shadow constantly lurking in the corner of the room, slipping away as the sun rises.

I'd say you were my worst nightmare if your tortuous Chesire grin ever let my eyelids close.

You whisper in my ear as sleep begins to cradle me. My security stolen, paranoia wraps its greasy fingertips around my neck. My eyes bulging out and shallow breathing coming from my lungs-- yet, there's difference in literal meaning. You won't find, "died from fright and paranoia," in the obituaries. How I wish I were dead, Rest. In. Peace. carved into my everlasting headboard.

But, you won't let me die. You want to keep me struggling for air.

The hate in your words are hidden with your tone. Slick as ice, chilling every fiber of my being as it runs down my neck. No amount of tangled blankets could warm me from your breath at my ear. Your delicate shredding of my sanity. Tears smooth down my face, but your voice is intoxicated in pleasure. It speeds up, teasing me-- as if your presence was a forgotten inside joke between us. As my panic evades out of my pores, cold sweat matching your exterior, your chuckle echoes against the four gray walls.

You block my exit. Your entity moves with every one of my hopes of escape from you. You evade my attempts, even with the mere thought in my head. I scream at you, you refuse to listen. I throw sheets, clothes, hate at you, but you remain still; posture perfect, icy spheres set on me.

The 7th night you refused to leave, refused to let me sleep, I broke. Cracked straight down the middle. Screeching in pain, hot drops draping down my cheeks and collecting at my chin. I caught the smile on your face. The gashes upon your cheeks, covering your dimples, lifting up in delight. Your laugh, nails on a chalkboard, audible and pleased beside me.

"This is only the beginning. Imagine all the fun we're going to have, Luci."

I choked back a sob, sober eyes connecting with yours. The smile that carved out your skinny face showed your pleasure. Revenge leaking in your promise. But, one question moved out of my exhausted lips.

How do you know my name? My nickname?

The smirk on your face made my stomach squeeze. Your fingers brushed against my cheek, scaly; a hiss accompanied with a sentimental gesture-- a sadistic predator playing with his prey. But, was I really the victim? I stared at him with sore eyes, maggots and flies buzzing around his skull. Skin hanging dully to his muscles. His mouth moved and I saw the muscles underneath work.

"You'll figure it out soon, dear Luci. You'll have lots of time."

Your entertainment is my disease. My fear. My anger. As you suck the life out of me, make me lose everything I've worked so hard to possess, your laugh chimes through my tense nerves. Your blond curls bounce and tickle your scarred scalp. Gold, paired with icy blue eyes-- wasn't this image supposed to be innocent? The saggy skin and gashes took away from the child that once was. You were now the icon of death.

Night 21, my pinched lips open wide. Sewn shut from the miserable nights before, all beginning and ending the same. With teasing, torturing, torment and smiles. This night, my shrill agitation disturbed the neighbors, yet you remained calm and silent. A pleased expression on your face scaring and angering me more.

"WHY? WHY? WHO ARE YOU? WHY WON'T YOU GO AWAY?"

An innocent giggle found a way out of your chapped lips, crusted in auburn-- dried up blood. You licked you lips and tasted rust. You spoke slowly, letting every one of your syllables sink in. As if you were staring into the mirror as you ripped off my finger nails from their beds, one by one.

"Oh, Lucinda. You'll never figure it out, will you?"

Steaming lashes of the whip you were cracking framed my face.

"Please. Let me rest... LET ME REST!"

Your sunken head tilted to the side; eyes like knives, jabbing me with every blink. But, even the pain was working as a lullaby. Danger seeping from your irises, a constant alarm going off behind my eyes. Your visits were doses of caffeinated NyQuil.

Your next words woke me right up.

"Only if you let me."

For the last hours of the dreaded night, I stared at you. Trying to capture the meaning of your words, trying to remember what I did. Why I deserved this constant affliction. My head was in your gullotine, blade inching closer to my neck with every breath; every strangled shout.

As the sun peaked through my window, your skin became transparent with the crack escaping through the window; a dirty rectangle of Plexiglas. Smudged with my desperate hands, written on with shaky fingertips. And then you're gone, but you leave your eyes with me. Burning in front of brain, controlling everything I think about-- you never leave me alone, even when your presence drifts away with the moon light.

Tonight, I sit up in bed and wait for you to appear. Ideas buzzing through my head and the truth whirling around with your eyes. Night 22 and counting. As the sun falls, I stare as you develop, a Polaroid coming to life before me. The words I want to use fly around the room, you smile and greet me with your wicked grin.

"Who am I, Luci? Do you need another hint?"

Your charred eyebrow cocks up in interest. I can taste the satisfaction in the stale air, so lively between us. I suck in air as you watch me.

"I killed you."

You nod, grin growing as maggots squirm in and out between your missing teeth.

They never found you. I hid you in the bushes. But, look where I am now..., aren't you happy? I'm being punished.

And, you take your eyes off of me. For the very first time. Your blind eyes see all-- the bars, the cold concrete floor. You've never felt it on your feet before, you shiver in excitement, but don't smile. With your head hung, you raise your voice-- another first.

"Not for killing me. You don't even know my name, DO YOU, Lucinda?"

You bite down on your lip and create a fresh crimson color, hydrating your dead skin. Tears pour down and stick to the bags and crust on my eyes.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

The rest of my emotions were caught in my throat. Your eyes wind back to me, full with anger-- blood vessels clearing the white in your eyes. They stab me once, before day light breaks.

"You may have gotten rid of me before, but now I'm back. A simple apology with get you nowhere. We're going to have a nice time, you're going to have a nice life."

The sun licks you away, curls dangling in your face. Maggots squirming around your scalp. You have murdered me. They have replaced my screams, they echo oddly against padded walls and frustation feels worse caged in a white jacket. Every night now, you play with my hair, you touch my face, sharing your lice and bugs with me.

Your disease has already spread, even though I breathe, I will never live again.