True love is not the number of kisses, or how often you get them, true love is the feeling that still lingers long after the kiss is over ❦
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❦Simon Reed, she's stubborn, sassy, unkind as people would say, no one has ever gotten close enough to fin...
"I stood over a pile of blood, the metallic liquid dripped from my hands onto my clothes. I wiped the tears from my face. guilt, the only emotion I felt. guilt washed over my face. I wiped the tears from my eyes placing the gun on the floor. I turned around looking away from the person I once called Mom"
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Present time Stripping my clothes off and walking towards my shower. The cold air made goosebumps visible on my skin. Checking the temperature of the water before getting in. The water hit my back, my chest, my legs, and my feet. I watched as the water turned red.
Red with blood.
My tears mixed with the warm water as I grabbed the bottle of shampoo washing my scalp soon after rinsing it out before applying conditioner.
And washing the conditioner out as well.
My body wash was coconut scented. I loved the smell. I washed my legs, arms, back, chest, etc; not missing a single spot.
I've always had this routine where after I spill blood, I clean my body thoroughly. It makes me feel better, although the guilt never really goes away. I've learned to be numb to it.
I completely block it out of my memory, it is my only way of coping. The only way I knew how to cope, the only thing I've ever been taught, 'show no weakness'
My mother had this saying, 'le ragazze grandi non piangono' [big girls don't cry]
I've lived by it ever since her death.
I turned off the water with shaking hands. The bathroom had fogged up due to the hot water. I opened the shower door and grabbed my towel from the rack. Wrapping it neatly around my body.
I've always hated when things weren't neat, I was diagnosed with OCD at the age of 11.
It wasn't too bad when I was 11 but it had progressed over time to the point where if I were to stab someone it had to be precise.
The wound couldn't be too big or small, it had to be just right. As I continued to dry my body I looked into the mirror, I didn't see a cruel, ruthless killer.
I saw an innocent little girl who begged to be set free. She was just hidden, hidden far away.
As I stared at myself lost in thought I heard a knock on the door. With a heavy sigh, I opened the door.
"It's Your uncle, he told me to tell you that he wants to meet with you in an hour, no later," Betty said, Betty was my personal assistant. She was quite tall for her age(18) probably around 5'11, she had cute dimples and a wide nose I've always personally found wide noses cuter. She also had light brown hair with green eyes.
