November 12, 2019

  The metallic smell of blood fills my nose — God, I could get used to it. Ironic, isn’t it? stabbing a doctor with her very own surgical knife. “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,” the doctor had said. “Severe. Possibly comorbid with psychotic episodes.”

  Obsessive Compulsive my ass. Try to say that again bitch. I spin the knife in my hand, revelling at the sight of it, covered in blood. Honestly, all she did was know about my condition but unfortunately that’s all it took for me to kill her. It was enough. More than enough.

  I tower over her body for a while admiring my…handiwork and then I walk towards my next target—The one waiting for me at the doorstep of her house. I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. Poor best friend. Thinking we’re going to have the perfect night out.

  Well… in a way, it will be.

  Perfect for me. For her?

  Probably not.

  I spot her standing right where I told her, at her doorstep. Damn, jokes apart she actually looks gorgeous in that shiny black dress. what a pity guys wouldn’t be able to have a bit of fun with her anymore, because she won’t be alive in the first place.

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  I greet her with a smile, the one which I usually wear so that people don’t think I’m fucking crazy in the head. She gives me one of her own, beautiful, enchanting in a way only she could ever be. I wonder if she will still look this good when she’s dead.

  We walk towards the club and on our way, she starts yapping about the new guy she is seeing. She says he is obsessed with her; worships the ground she walks on. He’s kinda cute. But I’m not heartless enough to steal my friend’s man — just cruel enough to kill her.

  Damn now she’s getting annoying, continuously yapping about that guy. I take the knife out of my sleeve and boom! a single slice on her neck is all it takes for the blood gushing out of her body and the life draining from her eyes. She clutches her neck in pain, in fear, desperation, I don’t know what. But whatever it is, it doesn’t bother me anymore…It shouldn’t. And just like that, another life taken, another secret buried, another step closer to becoming what people talk about in horror stories. Fucking fantastic! Still, a part of me does wish that she shouldn’t have come to the clinic with me today in the first place. If she never came, she would never know and would not have to die…but there’s no point dwelling on the past now is there?

  What’s done is done…

  And now I’m supposed to live with it…