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Some weeks later...
April 16th
8:36PM
Another boy asked you out today but you said no. One of your so-called 'friends' joked about you being a 'boy magnet'. You laughed at the joke but I didn't find it funny. They made it look like they knew you as if they could even comprehend or try to understand you. They don't know you at all.
But I do. I know everything about you. I know your routine, how you plan your day, what you like to wear, what you like to eat, and when you go to sleep... I even wrote it down to remember.
4:30A.M: You wake up.
4:42A.M: You still lay in bed.
4:50A.M: You get out of bed and start your exercise routine which includes stretching the legs and muscles.
5:00A.M: You go to the bathroom.
5:10A.M: You brush your teeth with your pink toothbrush.
5:15A.M: You wash your face and look for any deformities which is silly because you look perfect.
5:20A.M: You walk out of the bathroom.
5:25A.M: You slip out of your silk nightgown, letting the cool air brush against your skin, and begin dressing in your school uniform. As always, you put on your shirt first, carefully buttoning it before moving on to your underwear and skirt. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, you wear your long black leggings, their soft fabric clinging snugly to your legs but for the rest of the week on Thursdays and Fridays you wear your normal white socks, neatly pulled up just below your knees because you don't have any leggings.
5:35A.M: You are grabbing your bag and leaving the bedroom.
5:40A.M: You are looking for something to eat but sometimes there isn't anything to eat.
5:50A.M: You are leaving the apartment building.
6:00A.M: You are on your way to Mr. Mings' convenience store to buy a store-bought bento.
6:20A.M: You enter Mr. Mings' store.
6:15A.M: You leave Mr. Mings' store with the store-bought bento in your bright blue bag.
6:35A.M: You arrive at school and meet up with your friends.
7:00A.M: You help out in club activities. On Wednesdays and Fridays, you go to the Martial Arts Club with Andrew to clean up the dojo and on Tuesdays and Thursdays you go to the Cooking Club to talk to Aubrey.
8:31-10:00A.M: You go to class for Biology.
10:01-11:00A.M: You have your Chemistry Class. I heard your teacher is quite strict.
11:01-12:00P.M: You have your Physics class and you are good at it.
12:00-1:00P.M: Its lunchtime and you go to eat with your friends on the roof. I notice you don't talk much after three minutes. Maybe you get bored with them. I hope you don't get bored with me.
1:00-2:00P.M: It's time for Physical Education
2:00-3:00P.M: You have a Language Class, and you are good at it. The fact that you can speak English, Korean, Chinese, and French so fluently makes my heart flutter because I know how to speak multiple languages, too. I can't wait for us to trade our knowledge in the future.
3:00-4:00P.M: It's time for your club activities. My heartbeats anytime I see you sparing with Andrew and my blood boils when I see you smiling at that instructor of yours.
4:00-5:00P.M: You go home. Sometimes you take a taxi but in most cases, you walk. I always make sure to walk behind you to make sure no one hurts you. Sometimes you stop by the shops to buy instant noodles for dinner and I also notice that you always eat the same thing every night or you don't eat at all and it saddens me.
6:00P.M: You get home.
6:15P.M: You are either eating or in your room doing your homework.
6:55P.M: You are studying.
9:30P.M: You are taking a bath. I know the scent of your shampoo, that strawberry and vanilla blend. It lingers in the air, soft, intoxicating.
9:55P.M: You are laying out your futon trying to sleep.
10:00P.M: You are already asleep.
See, I know everything about you and that includes your hobbies which are singing since you frequent the karaoke club with your friends every Friday although I wish you spent it with me instead of your friends and cooking since you are in the Cooking Club but you bearly have any money to buy the ingredients and the equipment.
I don't consider Martial Arts a hobby since you only do that to learn to defend yourself but I have noticed that there is something hidden in your tactics. There is something hidden in your fighting style and I can tell you know more than what he is teaching you. I can't wait to see it.
You even have other hobbies like reading manga but you never mentioned them to your friends. Maybe you are embarrassed that your friends might call you an otaku or it's because they might criticize your taste in genres. Don't worry Beloved. I won't judge you and if anyone tries to judge you, I will rip out their tongues.
I also know you use a flip phone and many students are mocking you for it. They said you are poor. If I only I could slit their throats. I would do it in a heartbeat to make sure no one mocks you again. They don't know you are working in a daycare center every Saturday for a minimum wage so you don't have enough money to buy the latest brand. Most of that money goes straight to buying food like TV dinners, instant ramen, or store-bought bento which you eat to survive.
At least I do. That's why I put a couple of yen into the floorboard where you hide the rest of your money. Learning about this makes me want to spoil you. When I finally make you mine, I will make sure you are spoiled beyond recognition. You won't have to worry about all these things.
There are some intimate things I know about like how you have a crush on one of the characters in your manga, your bra size which is XL, the color of your panties which ranges from cotton pink to white, the scent of your body wash and shampoo and the fact that most of your clothing are in the color black. You have very few shoes, two pairs of earrings, one pair of hair ribbons, an old hairbrush, and three different shades of pink lip gloss.
But your home life is a mess. Your Aunt has like seven different boyfriends and all take a liking to you despite the fact they are way out of your league; fat pudgy old men who reek of alcohol.
I wonder why your aunt likes them.
They are just fat old men who smell terrible.
Every night, you put a chair on your bedroom door and when it scrapes the floor, you wake up, gather your futon, and hide inside your closet. It wasn't until one of your aunt's boyfriends walked in that I realized why you did that. He looked around the room, saw your futon, and laid on it burping.
I nearly threw up!
There is no way I would let you sleep on that after what he did!
And there is no way I would let him live after he did that.
Luckily, you crawled out of the closet in the morning, quickly wrapped up the futon, and dumped it in the trash on your way to school. Later after school, you bought a brand new one from a second-hand store.
Gosh! It makes me wonder how much money you spend when they do that!
See?
I know everything about you. At least the basic things.
I wonder what else I'll learn about you.
There is nothing better than looking forward to it!
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