Snowflake

It’s hard, doing what I do. Not in the way that you would think, though. Most people would be regretful if they lived my life, always asking God to forgive them for their sins. They would say that it’s hard to keep doing it, to keep doing this to supposedly “innocent” people. Or maybe they would say that they don’t want to do it, but that it’s like a subconscious thing- That their alter ego is really the perpetrator and they are just an innocent passerby. That’s not the case with me. I don’t feel a single ounce of regret, I love what I do. I’m not innocent, it’s all me. The hard part is keeping it as nothing more than a secret, locked away in my cluttered mind. It’s not just a dirty little secret, it’s the type of secret that you would risk your life to keep unknown to the general public.

Fortunately, I have two people that I can actually talk to about it- my so-called “partners in crime” Brittany and Antonia. I reckon they’re just as fucked in the head as I am, if not even more. We share our stories, more often then not we are included in them considering we are nearly inseparable come nightfall. It’s only possible to do all of this at night, since if we were to do it in broad daylight then we would get caught for sure. We’ve been almost caught far too many times even at the darkest of night, so it would be utterly stupid for us to attempt our actions during the day. That would be very stupid of us.

A muffled scream brought me out of my trance. My thoughts vanished into thin air, as if the sudden noise had scared them away. I looked down at the struggling young girl who was currently pinned to a wall, my hand covering her mouth and a sharp blade pressed against her throat. I bent down to lightly whisper in her ear, “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Her eyes grew wide and she thrashed against my tight grip, her screams still muffled by my hand. I drew back my blade and in one quick motion slashed across her throat without hesitation, crimson blood spilling out immediately, staining the concrete sidewalk. The girl fell to the ground, her lifeless body making me chuckle in morbid satisfaction.

My name is Sammy, and this is my life.