Chapter 3: An Unwelcome Visitor

3

In the days that follow, I keep hiding in the darkness.

Night is when I’m with Lillian.

During the day, when Lillian leaves for work, I crawl out of the bed, stretch my body, and empty the urine I’ve collected in a rubber bag.

I use her body wash to take a luxurious shower.

Then I eat and drink my fill, and restock the bed with food.

I think I could live like this forever.

If I could, I’d spend my whole life this way with Lillian.

But things didn’t go as I hoped.

An uninvited guest barged in between me and Lillian.

That night, a man lay on Lillian’s bed.

“This new bed is pretty soft.”

The man even bounced on top of me twice.

Lillian pounced on him, saying, “After all, we’re getting married—the new bed can’t be shoddy.”

Then they rolled around fiercely on top of me.

My heart shattered instantly.

So Lillian is already engaged, and will soon be married.

The news hit me like a punch in the gut.

Damn it.

Damn.

I cursed silently.

At the same time, a dark thought formed in my mind.

I wanted to kill this man and have Lillian all to myself.

Every day I wake in a fog, sunlight seeping through the blinds, painting stripes across the worn-out carpet of her room. I tiptoe into her bathroom, the tile cold beneath my feet, using her lavender soap, always careful to wipe away every trace. The fridge hums quietly as I steal a bite of cold pizza, refilling my hidden cache. But the day I heard a man’s voice echoing down the hallway, my chest tightened. He sounded cocky, too comfortable—like he belonged here. My breath caught as they laughed together, Lillian’s voice bright and warm, so different from the way she talked to customers at the store. The bed rocked with their weight, the rhythm of their bodies a cruel mockery. I squeezed my eyes shut, teeth clenched. In that moment, jealousy pooled in my gut like battery acid, burning away any sense of reason.