Yoda…it is done, a version immortalised in words. A gift, for you!

Ode to Erik

V For Voyeur

"Bloody eyes everywhere in this gallery! Everywhere you turn there are thousands of eyes! Painted eyes, stone eyes, carved eyes, granite eyes, oil eyes; all types! Watching every move you make, every breath, every turn…oh I don't know!

But no eyes half so observant as the depraved peeping tom that creeps around this stone palace! Bloody pervert. I should have guessed why was I so blind? A man that spends his time dressed in a wig, a mask and a cloak pretending to be a dead terrorist? Stalking about, playing with knives? Yes, I really should have known better.

Closet pervert of the first degree.

I am living with a sexual deviant.

(Maybe the Cosmo magazine thing set him off?) I know this now due to his actions earlier this morning.

Evey had indulged herself in one of her usual hour long marathon showers, (bloody wallpaper is pealing with all that steam I tell you…) She did as she always does; left the bathroom, entered the bedroom and closed the door.

Now V knows this little routine of hers, he has observed her time and time again making the same little journey to her room. Usually he is in the kitchen trying and failing to bake, or watching a boring film; maybe polishing his stupid knives or perhaps stabbing me. But today he was behaving quite peculiar, quite different. He was lurking about in the television room, darting about in the shadows. Twiddling his thumbs, breathing rather heavily, hoping Evey wouldn't spot him. I didn't pay too much attention to this as the pervert has many strange habits, ones I tend to turn a blind eye to.

But after Evey had vacated the bathroom and closed her bedroom door, hair in turban, the cad appeared from the shadows and began to pace about. He was muttering furiously to himself, seemingly in some type of internal conflict. Possibly planning something; a surprise, an attack, an ambush maybe? It was of no concern to me. I thought it best I leave him to his weirdness. So again, I ignored him; as I explained, he does act very bizarrely sometimes.

After a few more moments of this frantic pacing about, the harlequin strode towards Eveys door.

To my horror I realised what he was about to do! I tried to stop him, to yell to Evey that the peeping tom approached her nakedness, but as usual my cries fell on deaf ears! The fiend! The brute! The utter deviant! So this is what he was planning and muttering to himself?

As brash as you please, with no regard for the girl behind the door, he entered the poor child's bedroom!

A short scream ensued and much yelling for him to get out. The pervert stumbled out again, closing the door behind him. He took a few steps away, raised his hands to his face and began giggling to himself like a little girl. I then heard him mutter…

"He he he…I just saw her boobie!"

I simply stood in what I imagined would be more shock than Evey. In total disbelief. Until it dawned upon me. I began to comprehend it. Realisation set in.

Yes. It is true.

He planned it.

He's a pervert.

I am living with a peeping tom."