Where Did You Come From?

I sat on my bed, legs tucked under myself as I held my phone tightly in my hands, feeling them shake as I silently cursed my nerves. I posted my work from the day on my social media- sharing with the world the mangled and bloodied corpse I created with her very patient victim. This beautiful person sat still for seven hours while I mutilated their body. But damn does it look good on film. That's a wrap horror junkies! I smirked as I posted, my phone almost immediately blowing up with positive feedback. I spent a few minutes answering questions and thanking all who followed me before plugging it into the charger and silencing it.

I stood to grab a shower, picking at the dried latex on my fingers as I scanned the room for my towel when I halted, frowning at the drawing my daughter made me and felt the heavy lump in my throat. Forgetting the shower I headed to the kitchen in my condo- not bothering to turn on any lights. It was just me now, so why bother. Quickly I fished the handle of vodka out of the cardboard bag and opened it, drinking as much as I could before running out of breath. There was a time when this place was a home- but now it was just a box to sleep in. I lit a cigarette and took the party to the bathroom, turning on the water and stripping out of my clothes. I stared at myself in the mirror- my long strawberry blonde hair hung down to my large boobs that were always accused of being fake, my big full lips and my bright blue eyes stared back at me. I lost more weight than I cared to admit- but truthfully every night since I lost my daughter was vodka for dinner night. I just... didn't care anymore. The fight was over. I lost. Now I just have work. And today... that was over. The whole in my heart was empty again.

I tossed my cigarette in the toliet and stepped into the hot water, taking another large swig of my bottle and putting my head under the water. Water cleans all filth and maybe this shower was going to help me emerge with new purpose. One could hope.