Give Me Your Heart

I knew Sylvia wouldn't have the deal of Shawn being around and harassing her. Maybe it would relieve her in some way. I smiled as the professor went on about something I couldn't care less about.

There she was, sitting across the room, looking around anxiously about Shawn. The word hadn't reached campus yet. What reason did she have to care for him? He was just a bastard that ripped the souls out of girls after convincing them that he cared.

I was similar in some way-- except I physically ripped the souls from the body. There is no soul without a heart. I might as well call myself a soul collector.

Then she looked at me, for I didn't realize how much I'd been dazing off in her direction. She looked at me with a different expression from the day before. She wasn't gazing at me with ridicule anymore-- just plain curiosity.

I turned away from her and stared down at my blank page of notes and began scrawling drawings everywhere. Most of them were bloody hearts lying on pavement. I made sure it looked like there were teeth marks in them, just how Dominic Flanagan's victims' hearts would've appeared.

I hadn't heard the professor tell everyone that we can socialize around the room and I also didn't hear Sylvia take a seat beside me. "What's that?" she asked. I froze for a second and shut my notebook, making her jump slightly.

"Nothing, just doodles," I said with a fake smile. It was obvious to her. She was too suspicious of me now. Maybe I'd traumatized her too much.

What was so wrong about a little blood? I had no control anyway. She couldn't blame the current conscious side of me anyway. She also didn't want to bring the dark side of me out either. It craved for her blood-- the taste and texture on my skin.

She shifted nervously in her seat. "So I have nothing to do after school and I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee or something? There's a new coffee house down the street--"

"I don't date." I said clearly. She smiled and looked down at the books in her hands. "Don't worry. It's not a date. You're cute but not my type. So, meet me there?" she asked before leaving.

I nodded and my teeth came together tightly in anger. But what for? Because I wasn't her type? Because it wasn't a date? What type of maniac am I?

I smirked at my thoughts. The worst one you'll ever see.

I met her at the coffee shop along with another person-- a male. He resembled her a lot. A brother? Cousin? I didn't know but I wanted to kill him already. My soul was scratching at my skin. It wanted blood.

"Eric," she said to the other guy that stood in my presence. "This is Darren-- we have math together. Darren, this is my friend Eric. He's visiting from up north."

"Hi there," Eric said shaking my hand. I nodded at him without a word, causing a moment of awkwardness. We then ordered our coffee and I watched how gentleman-like Eric was towards Sylvia.

He and his blue plaid flannel shirt bothered me. It was like he was pure innocence. I casually nodded and smiled at what they were saying, as if I were listening. "Well I have to go now," Eric said standing.

The three of us stood and I watched him at the corner of my eye. His hand came to Sylvia's and he kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you around," Eric said before nodding towards me and walking away.

"I better head home too," I said looking in Eric's direction. Sylvia nodded, but placed her hand on my arm before I walked off, "Do you know something about Shawn?" she asked. "I found him dead and I haven't told anyone. But I have a feeling you heard about it."

"He's dead?" I asked with fake expression of shock. "I'm sorry... I don't know anything."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Tell me if you know something."

She was staring at me. She thought I did it and she was right, but I wouldn't let that show.

"Sylvia, I really don't know anything. Dig the information out of someone else," I said as politely as possible. "Goodnight."

**

I walked away from her, towards the path Eric had taken. I caught up with him, putting my gloves on. The dirt trail was behind the suburban houses of perfection and cliche families. "Hey, Eric," I called.

"Hi there," he said. He then stared at my hands. "What's with the gloves? It's pretty hot out right now."

"Just keeping my hands clean," I said slowly, pulling out a knife from my pocket. "Oh God," he said staring at the shining metal in my hand. "What are you doing?"

The sunset reflected off of my skin as I smiled. I didn't really have reasons to kill him-- I just wanted to break Sylvia down and bring myself farther away from ever caring for her. Though some part of me did.

I charged at Eric before he could shout and covered his mouth, shoving him to the dirt. I could hear his jaw bone cracking from how hard I was pushing down on his face. He began crying and I found myself laughing quietly at him as I raised my knife.

The knife dug into his ribcage, cracking a couple. His high-pitched, weak scream hurt my ears, even though it was muffled.

His screaming wouldn't stop and I wasn't able to focus on the savory blood spilling from his skin. I ran the knife into his throat, causing him to shake fiercely, hitting me across the face. "Shut the fuck up," I growled.

I turned the knife at a 90 degree angle, and his cries stopped. I hadn't realized that my knife had dug inches into the dirt. His hands came to his sides, proving that he was dead. I smiled and continued to cut through his chest.

It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it, I though to myself, laughing briefly. His heart was a pure red, pure innocence. Nice guys finish last.

I took the heart and put it in his right hand, moving the arm across his chest. Eric' dead heart fell slightly back into the hole I'd cut into his torso. The sun was down now and I carried him towards Sylvia's house.

The light in her room was on and I grinned. This time I was in the backyard, away from the cop guarding the front of the house. I took a piece of paper out of my backpack and dug my finger into Eric's sliced open throat.

I give my heart to you, I wrote in blood before leaving it on top of Eric's face. I ran away, making noise purposely and got away in time.

**

When I got home, slipping inside my apartment without a sound, I couldn't stop smiling. But why? The other part of me called for not doing something out of jealousy, especially for love. I couldn't help myself.

I stood in my bathroom and looked in my mirror. My disorder was getting worse-- I saw another form of myself standing behind me, in the mirror. "Nothing's personal right?" he asked with a smirk.

I nodded and smiled evilly. "Nothing personal."

The next morning in class, Sylvia wasn't there. She came in late, during the professor's lecture. Her face was tear-stained and shocked. Without an expression, she walked up to the row of seats behind me.

I knew she was looking at me and I contained myself from laughing.

Don't make it obvious, I said in my mind.

After class, she came up to me, grabbing me by the shoulder. "Tell me what you know. Now," she demanded.