Oblivious​ Olivia

by Myriah Martin 2 years ago in fiction

She was so bland, so boring, so oblivious to what was around her and who was watching. It's a shame what happened.

Oblivious​ Olivia

Peering in through the window, I watched her. In all honesty, her life was rather boring. She was almost always alone when she wasn’t at work. In the two weeks that I had been following her, I’d only seen her actually go out to see people once. She didn’t even stay long. She was painfully pretty, though, I’ll give her that. I hoped she would put up a fight when I finally decided to kill her. I’ll find out soon.

This woman, Olivia, her name is, sticks stubbornly to the same schedule every day. She’s proven incredibly easy to stalk. Anywhere she goes, she is blissfully unaware of her surroundings. It’s almost like she wanted to get stalked.

The first time I saw her, she was at the grocery store. Olivia wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and ran right into someone else’s cart. That’s how oblivious to the world she was. Oblivious Olivia. She must spend far too much time in her own head. Such a pretty head it is, too. I almost laughed while I watched her apologize, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I had to be a quiet, unnoticed bystander.

Watching her interact with the lady she ran into, I knew I would be following her home. There was no other choice. I abandoned my own shopping and stayed just far enough behind her for her to not notice me. Honestly, I think I could have walked beside her the whole time and she wouldn’t have seen me. She is really that blind to the world around her. I’m curious what her world really looks like.

I didn’t want to kill her at first, but it’s become a need. The voice has been whispering in my head again. It always wins, stupid voice. I tried to fight it, but it’s too strong. I’ve grown quite attached to her. I don’t want to kill her, really.

I now know Olivia’s schedule like the back of my hand. I know when she will leave for work and when she’ll be back home. When she leaves in the morning, I’m going to sneak into her house and wait for her. I even know where she has hidden her spare key.

It’s all too simple. The voice in my head is almost hesitant to go through with it. It feels almost like a trap. He’s decided we’re still going through with it, though.

I watched as she left this morning. I waited an extra ten minutes before moving from my hiding place, just to be safe. Still dark, I didn’t bother to sneak toward the house. I lifted the planter beside the door and removed her spare key. There was no problem at all getting into the house.

To pass the time, I searched through her house. I wasn’t sure if I should make it look like a random robbery. It would probably be the best cover for this crime. I hadn’t killed any of the other women I had stalked. The voice had eventually quieted and I returned to my normal life. This time, I was incredibly worried about getting caught.

Deciding the fake robbery would be the best way to get away with this, I spent most of the day creating the perfect mess. I threw her clothes around her room, upturned anything that looked like it would have valuables in it. I tore apart her couch. I even went so far as to open all the drawers in the kitchen. Never know where someone might hide something valuable. I didn’t take anything, though. To be honest, there wasn’t really anything to take. Even her belongings were boring.

When there were ten minutes left until she would arrive back home, I hid the best I could. I wasn’t sure how she would take seeing her house in this state. Panicking, I hoped she wouldn’t call the cops as soon as she saw it. I swore under my breath at how stupid I was for doing all of this before I killed her. I should have waited until after.

The door creaked open and I watched as Olivia walked inside. She turned toward the kitchen, without looking around her living room. Still oblivious. I was astounded at how good she was at that. I waited until I heard her open the fridge before I snuck to the kitchen doorway.

It wasn’t until she closed the fridge and turned to face her counters that she noticed something was amiss. She gasped, taking in all of the open drawers in her kitchen.

“What the hell?” I heard her whisper to herself. “Hello?” she called.

“Hello, Olivia,” I whispered in her ear, bringing the knife I had pocketed while I was opening the drawers up to her throat. “It’s been a pleasure watching you.” I pressed the knife into her flesh, watching as the blood shot out across the tile floor.

She didn’t cry out. She didn’t even seem surprised. She was quiet until her lifeless body slumped back against me.

The voice in my head laughed and went silent. I started to cry. What had I done? I stared down at the blood on my hands. Before I could take it all in, I ran.

I didn’t make it far before the sirens started. I wasn’t surprised. I was running through suburbia, covered in blood. I can only imagine how my face looks. Anyone would be horrified.

I ran until they were right behind me. The voice screamed in my head to keep going, to just let them shoot me. I think that was his plan all along, to get me killed. Olivia was just a scapegoat. I’m so stupid.

This serves as my confession. I don’t know what will happen from here. I’m scared.

Myriah Martin
Myriah Martin
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Myriah Martin

Myriah is an independent writer from Pennsylvania. You can find more of her work at www.riottales.com

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