My fingers glide over the dark wood grain arm of my chair. My eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness of the room. My pupils are dilated until nearly nothing remains of color, just a cold, glossy black. My senses are able to hear every sound with acute clarity; the whispers of the wind remain as the only disturbance in the room.

My eyes are fixed on the open door, left ajar as a silent warning to you before you enter. There would not be an escape for you once it closed. I sit unmoving, my body giving no indication of my mood other than the rhythmic ticking muscle in my jaw. My nostrils flare slightly and my gaze shifts to the window as your car pulls into the driveway. My fingers pause upon the arm and my attention is diverted to the silhouette that moves in the car. I can just make out your features, illuminated by the glow of the porch entry light.

Your movements are unhurried, and slowly you slide from the car, clutching your purse and a small plastic bag from the grocery store. There is a punctuation of noise in your arrival that echoes through the house - the slam of the car door and the customary search for the right key to the front door. You have not noticed its unspoken invitation. Even the porch light cannot puncture the pitch dark inside the house.

I watch as your head lifts just before you leave my sight and a twisted smirk finds my mouth as your own lips part in concern. Your eyes dart into the large front window, searching the darkness. I move just a fraction so that you can see that a predator is home. Your gaze zeros in on me and I stare back at you, silently communicating the mood in which you find me.

You hesitate. My lips press into a thin line as I watch the options race across your face. The rise and fall of your chest is jagged, uneven with your breaths. I wait silently, each moment ticking by only increases my anger and the inevitability of you breaking. The thin plastic of your grocery bag stirs as your grip tightens on the handles and you take the step forward and leave my sight. My eyes fall back to the hallway just as you emerge from the door. A soft click sounds as the door closes.

I stare at you. My blood is racing hotly in my veins. I am waiting for your movement.

‘Hello.’ Your voice is soft, yet still incredibly loud to my ears, so adjusted they have become to near silence. I do not respond. You walk into the kitchen, disappearing from my view once against and I hear the nervous rattle of the bag as you put away the various items. The soft click of your shoes on the entry tile comes once again and I find you with my gaze.

‘Would you like me to turn on a light?’ You ask, still standing in the entry.

I do not answer. Instead, my hand shifts to the table at my right and a flash of light bursts from my hands as the match ignites. I light a small candle, my eyes leaving you only briefly to ignite the wick.

‘Come here.’ I speak finally, in a low tone that demands obedience.

‘I’m not certain I want to.’ Your answer sounds quietly. You slip your foot out of your right shoe to delay the moment.

‘Leave them on.’

Your eyes dart to me and your shoe is on once again. I reach inside my jacket and pull out a small box of needles. They are placed upon the table beside the candle and my eyes find you once again.

‘Come here.’ I repeat, my voice dropping in tone and softness.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips and you place a smile on your face. It is pained. You already know at least one of my plans. You take a step forward, meeting the carpeted floor of the living room.

‘Is it something I have done?’ You ask, taking another cautious step.

‘It is time to pay for your sins.’ I answer still watching every slight inflection on your face.

‘Sins?’ You pause and stare at me as your teeth tug at the fullness of your bottom lip. ‘ I go to church every week, Dae.’

‘Yet you are not absolved.’

‘I said my prayers, my rosary.’ You take another step closer.

‘Not to me.’

Your brow furrows and your throat swallows quietly as you digest that statement. ‘You are not my God, Dae.’

‘Aren’t I?’ My answer is a feral whisper of noise.

***To be continued.