Always watching.
Always.
Of course, I watch everyone. It's what I do. But she was different. I don't know when it started, but I noticed myself paying more and more attention to her, more than I usually would.
Over the years, I noticed things no other person would, not even her dearest brother. I noticed the way she curled her hair around her pinkie finger when she was nervous; the way her beautiful smile would falter for a split-second; the way she silently sobbed at night and acted like nothing happened the next day.
She was broken inside. She was as broken as an unwanted toy, and didn't want anyone else to know it. At least, not directly.
If her brother knew, he didn't care. I don't watch him as much as I used to. He's not as fun anymore. He's distanced himself from the outside world, spending his time holed up in the attic, sitting, staring.
And all I do is watch. I can't keep doing this. It's unhealthy, watching them like some sort of sick reality show.
Always watching.
Always.