All The Good Girls Go To Heaven
So Deep and Down We Go
It’s not what you think. We weren’t... you know. She was sound asleep. I was just thinking. I tend to move around quite a bit when I’m thinking. I saw something on the news today. More bodies were found, like the ones from my high school days. They had the same awful smiles. Each death they described was more gruesome than the last. It reminded me of something. Each death they described almost nearly matched a description of a night out in Skylar’s journal. Yes, I read her diary, but how could I not? Curiosity and all. On the day where she stayed home, it was reported that no one had gone missing. Of course, it could just be a string of unfortunate coincidences. There was never an actual murder described, but every night out had things that matched the murders shown, and were even taking place on the same night. Anyone who didn’t find this suspicious would have to be a complete idiot. I tapped her on the shoulder. I need to ask about this right now, while it’s nighttime. That seems to be the time I’m most confident.
“Hey, Skylar?” I whispered.
“What do you want? Can you not see it’s two in the morning?” She replied sleepily, glancing at the clock
on my bedside table.
“Just wondering, are you a serial killer?” I asked. The lack of reaction was surprising.
“No, I’m not a serial killer. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“I’ve been watching the news lately.”
“So?”
“I’ve also been reading your journal.”
“Again, so?”
“There are a vast amount of similarities between some murders and your outings.”
“Coincidences.”
“No they’re not.” I said finally. She froze a bit at this, contemplating her next answer.
“Listen, Mikey. There’s things that I have done, you never, should ever know.” Skylar said before closing her eyes once again. There’s a ninety nine percent chance that she’s a serial killer. To tell you the truth, I’m not mad. I could never be mad at her. I love her to death, and I really want to be with her forever. Maybe these... killings... aren’t such a bad thing. I wonder... should I try it? Join her? Who knows, maybe I’ll enjoy it. But do I really want to take the life of another innocent human for my own possible enjoyment? If it means winning Skylar’s heart, then... I suppose my answer would be yes. I would kill anyone and everyone for her. This ‘love’ thing... it really does drive you completely mad.
I gripped the knife firmly in my sweaty, gloved hands. My victim was a homeless woman. No one would miss her, right? No one would even notice. I swooped in and stuck my blade in her throat. No scream. That’s good, right? I have to make it ugly if I’m going to fit in with her, Gerard, and Frank. Yes, I’m aware they’re helping. They’re always in her journal with her. I carefully cut open her chest. This feels... right? Powerful? Amazing? These words shouldn’t describe a murder... yet they do. I saw the woman’s heart beat, I saw her lungs struggling for air inside her ribcage, and I laughed. This is actually quite beautiful. Why do I feel this? It’s not right. I cut out an organ, and another. What am I doing? Why am I doing it? It’s not me. I added her Chelsea smile, and it was done. What do I do now? Leave her? Clean it all up? Bury it? I’m not sure... all I know is that I’ve finally found my smile. It’s pure and blood stained.
“Hey, Skylar?” I whispered.
“What do you want? Can you not see it’s two in the morning?” She replied sleepily, glancing at the clock
on my bedside table.
“Just wondering, are you a serial killer?” I asked. The lack of reaction was surprising.
“No, I’m not a serial killer. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“I’ve been watching the news lately.”
“So?”
“I’ve also been reading your journal.”
“Again, so?”
“There are a vast amount of similarities between some murders and your outings.”
“Coincidences.”
“No they’re not.” I said finally. She froze a bit at this, contemplating her next answer.
“Listen, Mikey. There’s things that I have done, you never, should ever know.” Skylar said before closing her eyes once again. There’s a ninety nine percent chance that she’s a serial killer. To tell you the truth, I’m not mad. I could never be mad at her. I love her to death, and I really want to be with her forever. Maybe these... killings... aren’t such a bad thing. I wonder... should I try it? Join her? Who knows, maybe I’ll enjoy it. But do I really want to take the life of another innocent human for my own possible enjoyment? If it means winning Skylar’s heart, then... I suppose my answer would be yes. I would kill anyone and everyone for her. This ‘love’ thing... it really does drive you completely mad.
I gripped the knife firmly in my sweaty, gloved hands. My victim was a homeless woman. No one would miss her, right? No one would even notice. I swooped in and stuck my blade in her throat. No scream. That’s good, right? I have to make it ugly if I’m going to fit in with her, Gerard, and Frank. Yes, I’m aware they’re helping. They’re always in her journal with her. I carefully cut open her chest. This feels... right? Powerful? Amazing? These words shouldn’t describe a murder... yet they do. I saw the woman’s heart beat, I saw her lungs struggling for air inside her ribcage, and I laughed. This is actually quite beautiful. Why do I feel this? It’s not right. I cut out an organ, and another. What am I doing? Why am I doing it? It’s not me. I added her Chelsea smile, and it was done. What do I do now? Leave her? Clean it all up? Bury it? I’m not sure... all I know is that I’ve finally found my smile. It’s pure and blood stained.
