You know the drill by now.

Addicted

She is the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Her smile brings up emotions in me that I am not comfortable with. Still, that smile is not for me. I long to touch that silky hair, to tangle my fingers in it and hold her head close to me, but that hair is not mine to touch. I imagine she smells sweet, of the strawberry scented shampoo I have seen her use, but I will never be close enough to experience it. Her laughter is sweeter than those chemical strawberries, if I had a way to listen to it over and over, I would. I've never tasted her, but something tells me it would be just as sugary. Today, her taste would be of the miso soup she had at lunch. It is a taste I will never know.

Every day, I will follow her. I know where she goes, who she's friends with, even the habits she herself doesn't know she has, such as the adorable way she wrinkles her nose when she's thinking about something seriously.

She is my drug, I am addicted.

I have tried, time and time again to find something else to occupy my mind, but I have nothing else. In elementary school, I took up kendo as a way to control myself. It worked with my body, but I have never been able to control my thoughts. If I had her to myself, I have no idea what I would do to her.

Surely, she has noticed that I watch her. Other people certainly have, they have even told me to stay away and even went so far as to inform her about it. She did not seem to care. I could not stay away even if I tried. I did try, for a long time, but as with every thing else, I failed. The only thing I can do right is keep a watchful eye on her. She is the only person I see.

Ever since I started school, I have found it difficult to talk to people, so I was avoided. She was the one person who approached me with a smile, who didn't have to talk to me as part of an activity. She actually wanted to talk to me. She was one person in a large number of girls my age, and yet she was the only person who had tried to reach out to the wild little girl with no parents. It meant the world to me. She became my world.

My grades have suffered. Every report card I am issued, I read to myself and smile when I see the poorly masked hints that my teachers drop in attempt to make me try harder. I am simply not interested. My reason for attendance to Mahora is not academic, after all.

The headmaster has given me numerous warnings, and has even tried to have me reassigned. He soon discovered that I am useless if I do not have the object of my desires near me. It is selfish, and I am disappointed in myself, but I find it hard to breathe if I cannot see her, even though she never sees me.

A few days ago, I was following behind her and her friends, and I heard them talking about me.
"You should slap a restraining order on her, she's so creepy!"

I hate myself for this ridiculous infatuation with a member of my class. We were friends once, but she stopped returning my calls after I told her how I felt. I have thought about leaving for good, but my selfishness refuses to let me go. A part of me feels that she would miss me if I were not around, but I am just kidding myself. I am insignificant. I am rarely spoken to by anyone in class, and more than once I have been neglected in the register. It is by my own doing. Whenever one of the other girls approaches me, I glare, not meaning to, and they never try again. It is another reason why I loathe myself.

I have neglected to care for myself. I have found myself wondering how I came to be so unkempt, but then I always remember. I have nothing anymore.

I will follow her anywhere. She does not see me, but I am always there. I am truly addicted.

Author's notes: This idea has been nibbling away at me for a while, and it's hindered me a little in the devlopment of Broken Threads, so I decided to write it so I could concentrate on that. It's pretty obvious who I'm referring to here, but I decided not to use names. Yeah, it's a little dark, but that's just the way it came out.

Broken Threads part 4 will still be posted tomorrow, probably late at night (I work GMT by the way).