Bette Davis Eyes

I’m convinced that there is a green glob attached to my aorta, seeping jealousy into my blood, using my very own life source to power its own evil. It doesn’t warn me when it’ll start working or give me a hint as to why; it’s quite the arrogant little thing.

I can’t help who I am. Sometimes, on days like this, I wonder if I’m human or not. I’ve understood for a long time now that I have psychopathic characteristics, but I don’t think that’s what I really am. Psychopaths kill without a second thought. Life means nothing. People are seen as garbage. I cringe at the idea of butchering another human. I couldn’t do it to an animal. Who am I to do that? And even if I had some weird justification or the A-okay, why would I ever want to? Intestines and bones are supposed to stay inside of the body. Why are there so many people who torture and gut others?

I can’t think about this anymore.

Chelsea wanted me to watch the Saw movies with her tonight since it’s a Friday and we’re not doing anything else, but I just can’t. Human life is of extreme importance. It’s wrong to disrupt the flow. It’s sickening to torture another human. It’s evil to kill. I am not evil. I’m more than convinced that I am an outdated form of population control. I would have been the person who decided if the tribe nurses someone back to health, of if it’s a lost cause and we have to keep trekking across the desert. I am the person who has to deal with the darker parts of life. I am the person who makes sure things keep going. I have psychopathic characteristics because I cannot be filled with emotion and over zealous heartstrings.

I don’t think that there are psychopaths and then people like me. There are people like me, and then there are soulless bodies. I have a deep dislike of people, but I could never, would never torture and kill them. Unless someone is very destructive or dangerous, there is no reason to kill him or her.

Jayfield is gorgeous. Chelsea thinks he’s the finest thing to ever exist. But he doesn’t feel right. He’s cute, he’s polite, but where is his family? Where is his belief system? He claims to be a dedicated Atheist who lives by himself and away from his family. I know there are a lot of people like that. I know that a lot of people are actually Deists, but that’s not the point here. Not many people live a life of solitude. Not many people are completely disconnected from all of their relatives. Not many people seem to refuse friendships. Not many people take so much interest in me.

He said that I’m unique. That he’s never meant a student like me. He wanted to know if I wanted to help him set up an in class project. I said that I have plans with Chelsea tonight; she’d hate me for months if I bailed on her on such short notice. He nodded, but he looked a little upset. He’d be pretty pissed off he knew I rejected his offer to go to Superman Sips. My town is small, but it has some pretty cool stuff. There’s a three-story building over looking a large lake; the first floor is nothing special, the second floor is a small, independent book store, and the third floor is Superman Sips, the local coffee shop.

I bought a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray before ordering a black coffee and getting comfortable in a cozy red armchair next to a large, round window that gives a perfect view of the lake. The stars and full moon reflected perfectly in the soft ripples of the surface of the lake; the tall trees’ shadows darkened the watery twinkle of the stars, but didn’t completely black them out.

The soft music of the coffee shop turned almost depressing. There were two workers and about five other quiet and content customers; it’s unusual for any shop to stay open to midnight here, especially a coffee shop, but it offered a safe haven from the cold streets. The owner, Mitch, was an indie kid back in his early twenties before indie was popular or really even known. He loved staying in coffee shops instead of the concerts his friends attended. He was never much of a people person. He liked to daydream over a cup of coffee. He liked to live his ideas after he sorted out his thoughts.

The quiet jingle of the door opening caught my attention. I nearly choked on my coffee when Jayfield’s eyes found me.

xXx

I should have just walked out. None of this would have happened if I just nodded politely and left. You are never a victim in destiny. You make your own choices. You find your path. You follow it through. I took the wrong one.

I.

Should.

Have.

Left.

She'd still be alive if I did.