The Watcher
The bus was running late again. She’d been stood there for nearly half an hour now. Tom had been watching her and he couldn’t believe it. A girl of her age shouldn’t be out on her own this late at night. Why she was probably only sixteen or seventeen. How could her parents let her roam the streets this late? These days you never know who’s about. Why didn’t her parents pick her up, if he owned something that beautiful he would never let it out of his sight!
Every Friday night Tom would look out of his window at the same time and she would be there waiting for the same bus and that same bus would always be late. You would think that the person whose job it was to write the time tables would say, “Well because this bus is always late by three quarters of an hour, I’ll change the time on the time table.” But no, they couldn’t do that! Meanwhile that poor little girl is waiting out there every week for a late bus that’s never going to be on time in the freezing cold and all alone.
Tom had deduced by her clothes; blue blazer, short pleated skirt and knee high socks that she was in sixth form, probably taking her A-levels. Tom found her attire most this most alluring and if he was tempted by it, what if there was some psycho watching her? She’d have no chance. What he loved most about her was the way her angelic golden curls hung round her shoulders. Oh, how he would love to touch those soft curls.
Tom had decided that she must have a job straight after school because she always had a satchel over her shoulder and folders in her arms. Probably earning some cash to help get herself through university! Tom would have loved to have gone to university but he just didn’t have the brains for it. Some people were destined to have the degrees, good jobs, smart cars and big houses. He, well, he wasn’t destined for good things. No, here he was, his future laid clearly at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. A thirty year old single drunk male who worked his butt off at the local factory for a pittance, who rented a house, walked to work because he didn’t own a car and would never have a chance at a ‘star-spangled’ life like she would. Tom took another swig of the whiskey that was sat on his bedside table and then turned to look back out of the window.
Every so often she would check her watch and sigh, a fog forming as her warm breath came into contact with the cold air in front of her face. Shifting her feet from side to side, she would change position and this would be followed by an impatient glance up the road to see if the bus was coming. Occasionally, she would turn and look at the house from which Tom watched and he would quickly let the net curtains fall back into place. Whether or not she noticed this sudden movement he had no idea but he would then peer, camouflaged, through the nets until she turned away again.
Where had that bus got to? Tom felt so sorry for her standing out there in the cold. Sometimes he had an urge to go down there and offer her a lift but he soon came to his senses. She’d probably think he was a pervert or something. At least if he watching her then she wouldn’t come to no harm. He’d make sure of it!
Tom was woken up by his five-thirty alarm the next morning. As he reached over to turn it off he knocked over the empty whiskey bottle that was stood in front of his alarm clock on the bedside table. It hit the floor with a thump that echoed inside his brain. His head was thick with the fog of a hangover and his mouth was as dry as the bottom of a parrot’s cage. He groaned and as he returned to lying on his back the room began spinning churning his stomach like a vat of butter. He wouldn’t be going into work today!
He couldn’t remember getting into bed. The only thing he remembered was his dream about an angel who had come to visit him. She was so beautiful, smiling at him with her golden curls and long legs.
His head throbbed as he got out of bed and headed downstairs to phone in sick for work. Walking down the hallway toward the kitchen he heard a muffled moan coming from the living room. He pushed open the door and gasped, there was his angel on the sofa with her wrists and ankles bound together behind her back. She looked at him, eyes wide with horror. She would have screamed at that moment if it hadn’t have been for the sock gagging her mouth.
The End