The Mirrored Road into the Interior

My brother has to do a journal for his english class. Each day they get a writing prompt. Today I played along and wrote an entry for the prompt he was writing. My goal was to keep it close to 150 words. Need to tighten up the sentences a bit for that. Or double the length to make the transitions more natural, or do both. Not particularly good, but the creepy factor is edging up to what I was aiming for. Some more work and I think the creepy could probably wrap its fingers around the story's neck and giveit a good hard shake.

He haunted the night like a silent guardian. He watched her sleep and dream in her room. His vigil went unnoticed, unmarked. She never saw him in the daylight so why would she suspect that he watched through her window at night? Some day, surely she would notice him, see his devotion, see the hidden inner spaces, the parts he kept from his friends and family and she would not be repulsed, no, she would come to love him as much as he had come to love her. They were destined to be together forever. He reached out and could almost feel her satiny skin, the smooth silky of her hair, but no, the window still stood between his arboreal perch and her nocturnal demesne. They would live together in a little cottage just the two of them, and she would make him breakfast and he would keep the others from coming to their home. But wait, what if she was unfaithful, like all the others? No she wasn’t like the others, she wasn’t fickle. He reached into his pocket and ran his hand over the springy masses, all that he had of his earlier loves, cartilage and gristle and tattered skin, taken so that he could always hear what they heard down at the bottom of the old mill pond.