possesive personalities

too sick to sleep, so i wrote this. its is about a ghost who becomes obsessed with a girl who’s living in his old room.

I keep myself hidden, tucked away in a black box. The first night she slept in that room, she became mine. I watch her from the closet, or through the window, or three inches away from her face. I’ll belch cold drafts on her face so she’ll wake up in the middle of the night shivering, and she’ll find that the covers that were once keeping her warm are now hanging up in the closet, where I am, so she’ll have to come closer to me. Maybe when she gets the blankets I’ll grab her. Just keep her up against the closet wall so I can touch her and look at her whenever I want. The room is mine. She became mine. She can leave the room though. I see her do it everyday and wait in front of the door until she comes back at night. I don’t know if she can leave the closet. I’m going to try it tonight. I can’t wait though. Watching her sleep does something to me; it makes me hate her for leaving every morning. I never used to be hateful before this. Before Tom held my head under water until I stopped fighting. He had to though, because my wife Darlene slept in his bed. And the first night she slept in his bed, she became his, and no man can share a woman with another man. So he killed me to get Darlene and the insurance I bought for myself. God that girl looks like Darlene. I can see her form the closet. But my hate is draining me. I need to go back to the black box across the street that’s attached to a powerline so I can charge up. Ill get her later tonight.