Title: Obsessive envy
Warnings: dark themes, lesbian-stuff, Amanda's suffering...

Jessi's p.o.v.

I was jealous of her. She had everything. The looks, the talent, the social life. She had everything I had ever wanted. Her wispy strawberry blonde hair, her pouty lips, her cream white skin, I wanted it all. I knew I had many unusual talents, some even unheard of. But I wanted her talents. I wanted her piano playing skills, I wanted her natural charm to make others happy just by being near them. I wanted her faith. I even wanted her belongings. I wanted everything.

So I took them, one by one. I stole some of her precious belongings, like her dead father's gift bracelet or her favourite stuffed animal. I went to her school and made myself invisible in the mass of students. I lurked there, waiting for her. And then, she emerged from the mass of dull faces and boring colours. I was breathless; she was like some sort of saint – those holy people I had heard of. I swear I saw light illuminating behind her, she was absolutely gorgeous. But I was jealous of her. I snapped into attention once more and braced myself for my next move. Her petite legs carried her easily towards me. I hesitated only for moment and did what I needed to.

I could hear her soft gasp clearly and almost taste her panic as she tripped over and fell down the stairs, hurting herself badly in the process. She was carried to the school nurse's office. I watched silently as she limped outside the school building where her mother waited, worry shining in her eyes. She helped her daughter into the car and drove her home. My target had broken her right leg and crushed her right arm under her body's weight. She had quite a few bruises, too. Now she wasn't as radiating as before, but she was still too beautiful for me. At least she wouldn't be able to play piano for awhile.

But stealing from her, hurting her and ruining her days weren't enough. She still had that wonderful personality of hers, that light that made everybody else smile in return. At first I couldn't quite place it where she acquired it from. What kept her happy during these hard times? What kept her smiling when her face was bruised and limbs hurting? Then I figured it out – what she still possessed that I didn't.

Kyle.

He was her light, her strength, her happiness. I wanted him.

I would put everything I had in myself, just to get his eyes off her. I would leave nameless threats, give hints of my powers. I knew he was curious, he had always thought he was a one of a kind. I would mess up with his head, make him run in circles, tire him with confusion until he was too faint to follow anymore. He was stressed, I could sense it. She tried everything in her power to keep him above from the deep swamp of confusion and despair. And she succeeded time and time again. But I wasn't about to give up now – not ever.

I kept myself hidden in the shadows and struck when the moment was right. I made her believe he had cheated on her with me. I had to do a lot of work to make it look believable. He wasn't exactly happy to see me jump on him like the maniac I was. He fought hard on keeping me away from him without hurting me. What a hippy.

Finally, I succeeded. Their trust for one another wavered, and it was not long before they broke up. Her last ray of sunshine was snuffed out. Her friends still supported her and helped her through her hard times, though. I could feel rage bubbling inside me. I had stolen her precious belongings, I had prevented her from using her talents and getting peace from music, I had separated her from the love of her life – and still it wasn't enough!

So, I began to work on a new plan. I befriended her friends. It was a long process, but it eventually paid off. They accepted me as one of them and gossiped with me as if we were friends from the old days. Then I began to spread rumours about her. Nasty rumours that hurt her pride like a blade through her flesh. I even backed my little gossips with fake evidence. The clueless idiots bought it and deserted her. Now she had no one.

She never smiled to anyone anymore, she didn't trust anyone. She was deeply hurt from the outside all the way to her deepest depths of consciousness. Her school grades got worse, her happy-aura disappeared, her beautiful creamy skin changed to sickly pale and her creativeness vanished into thin air. She no longer had anyone to live for.

But I was wrong.

She still went to the church. There she found peace by kneeling over the altar and letting the bishop pray for her. She would gaze heartbrokenly at the painting of Christ and mutter a quiet prayer. For a better life and for the old times – for that I was sure. I had done everything in my power to break her, so I wouldn't have to feel this horrible feeling of envy. But it still hadn't disappeared. I still wanted to meddle with her life like ancient rulers did to their slaves. And then, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I wanted her.

And have her I would.

I snuck into her room in the middle of the night. I gazed intensively at her sleeping, broken figure on the bed. I easily lifted her fragile body. Oh, she was so light, and vulnerable. But I was jealous of her and I wanted her. I wouldn't let those petty thoughts get in my way.

I carried her on my back like a ragdoll to my apartment. She was a heavy sleeper, but I wasn't surprised. Surely she would want to escape her horrid life into the world of dreams, of the old times when she was happy with her friends and the love of her life. I wrinkled my nose at the thought. Kyle. I spat the name with disgust. He had made my mission so much harder. But then again, I loved challenge. As long as he didn't meddle with my affairs any longer, I would keep my distance.

I laid my sweet porcelain doll on my bed. It creaked sharply as her weight fell against the old wood. She woke up with a gasp. She sat up swiftly, fear radiating from her as she took in her surroundings.

"Where am I? Who are you?" her trembling voice came. I simply stared at her, like a predator stares hungrily at its victim. I slowly walked towards her. She mimicked my steady pace and backed against the wall. She wasn't escaping this time. There was no one to help her.

"Please, what do you want from me? I just want to go home, I just want this nightmare to be over", she bled, voice cracking with despair. I gazed her for a moment and reached my hand towards her cheek. Her skin was so soft; even after all she had endured. I smiled happily as I let my fingers glide across her white skin. She tried to escape my touch, but I pulled her back. She fell back on the bed with a whimper.

And then, I attacked.

Her blood tasted so sweet on my dry lips. She was truly too good to be true. Even after all the corruption, I mused to myself. I tasted her bare white skin and chewed on it hungrily. She trembled in fear under my weight, sniffling helplessly. Her groans and whimpers increased to screams. She cried endless rivers till her eyes were too dry to shed tears. I was sure I had her now. She was mine and I would never let anyone else have her.

My feelings of victory and happiness didn't last long, though. With a final struggle before the inevitable unconsciousness, she whispered softly.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry."

And then I knew. I wasn't jealous of her.

I was obsessed with her.