She could think of little else.  Between the hospital, the funeral, and taking time off from work and pretending to be fine to the few neighbors and acquaintances that stopped by to drop off condolence gifts Kirsten was a wreck inside.  The warning totally slipped from her mind.  All she could do was mope around the house and sleep.  She pretended that Grandma was still upstairs reading or watching TV.  It helped just a little.

            Flowers would arrive everyday.  It was for her but who?  There was no name or card with the flowers.  Could it be Michael?  Where is he and why wouldn’t he put his name on the card?  She was more depressed thinking about him.  She didn’t know where to find him or where to look.  Kirsten didn’t know his phone number or address.  It seemed like he came and went as he chooses.

            “Where are you, my dark stranger?  I hurt so badly.”  She would dream about him and everything would be all right.  She tried to reach out to him and call him in her dreams.  It was silly because he couldn’t hear her.  There was almost a point when she didn’t even want to venture out of bed.  Life was almost meaningless and so empty.  This is what it feels like being in the deepest pit of a depression, feeling so hopeless and not caring whether you get up in the morning or not.

            She thought she saw his face in her dream last night taking away the ache in her heart and between her legs.  She blushed, remembering just what he did to take away that particular ache.          

            Michael would circle the house and watch her through the window.  She was in mourning and he didn’t want to intrude.  It was not the right time and he couldn’t tell her that she meant alot to him.  She has me, he thought.  He caught her peeking through the window a few times staring straight at him but not being able to see him.  He was hidden in the shadows. 

            After five days, he couldn’t take it anymore and had to see her.  She didn’t need him in her life to complicate things right now but he was always a selfish one.  He had to see her for himself; otherwise it would drive him totally utterly mad.  He was watching her through the windows so much that he barely feed and hardly had time to hunt and barely made in into safe grounds before the sun rose.  Michael told himself that he was acting like a lovesick moral human.  It was weak of him and sickening to think how she affected him like no one ever had.

            He knocked and waited for what seemed like eternity.

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