Becky got up from her bed and walked over to the window slowly, reaching up and bringing it down inch by inch. "Why do I feel like I keep seeing you?" she asked as a little bit of a breeze fluttered her curtains. "I shouldn't be seeing you. If you wanted to see me... you'd see me, right?"
She frowned and stopped shutting the window, covering her face with her hands. "You're talking to yourself, Rebecca. You're losing your grip on reality."