Every
Friday night, I had a little routine. It
was a simple routine, very mundane… one might normally think nothing of
it. I sure didn’t, in the
beginning. I simply did it to relax, to
unwind after a long week and prep myself for the fun of the upcoming weekend,
refreshed and feeling good.
Every
Friday night I made it a point to take a long, luxurious shower. Not like the quick five-minute rinse-downs I
took every morning before work to wash my hair and face, and maybe shave my legs if I had an extra
minute. No, my Friday night showers were
for me. They were warm, indulgent escapes—I lit
candles and turned on music, and I took my time bathing, enjoying the warm
spray of the water, feeling the smooth, pleasant texture of my favorite body
wash as I rubbed it all over my skin.
Like
I said, it seems like it would have been innocent enough. And for a long, long time, it was. Then, the new
neighbors moved in.
