OBSESSION [18+]

Chapter 01: His New Toy

· K A L I Y A ·

The night continued as usual, clicking through the pages online, I read each paragraph, filled with heinous details of deceased human beings. Page after page the details become more intense, some even daring to show pictures of the mutilated corpses. A sick sense of excitement floods through me, jealousy not far behind while seeing the bodies. These men are lucky. They have experienced dealing out death. They have played God.

Since I was a young child, I've had this adverse fascination with serial killers, and death. I've spent most of my younger years dreaming about running into a serial killer. Would we connect, realize we are two halves of one whole? Or, would he kill me? Either way I would be honored. These brazen men are special, lucky, to not be burdened by fear. They know what they want, and they take it.

I could only dream to be like them. Unfortunately, fear rules my life, holding me hostage from acting on anything that excites me, the fear always stops me from achieving happiness. The nagging thoughts of what if I got caught. I couldn't sit in a cell for the rest of my life. What if I got the death penalty, them doing to me what I had done to others? I would prefer that over sitting inside a cell to rot.

The familiar pangs of hunger gnaw at my stomach, reminding me I haven't ate since last night. Sighing, I realize I need to go to the store, seeing as I am the only one in this house who buys food. Slipping shoes on, grabbing the keys, I exit the room as our large cat makes her presence known, purring against my legs. I pick her up, cuddling the behemoth, before plopping her onto the couch.

I speed walk to the door, quickly slipping outside before she can outrun me. She truly enjoys escaping, making me run after her. She never gets far, seeing as she's a well fed house cat whose second favorite hobby is sleeping, she always ends up lying on the ground, making me carry her home. Little attention hog she is.

Placing the ear buds in, I begin the daunting task, walking through the neighborhood, hoping to end up at the store without being noticed. I don't live in the best area, the streets are desolate, most having left to better places. The few that have stayed mostly being emaciated drug addicts who walk around harassing those of us just trying to get by. I can't blame them though. The thought of being trapped here for the rest of my life would make drugs sound incredibly tempting.

Seeing the grocery store ahead, I pull out the grocery list, not liking to spend more time than needed outside of the home. At least one positive trait I have is being organized. The store is dimly lit, lights flickering above head as if this was some cheap horror film. I pay no mind, used to the squalor. Grabbing a cart, one wheel broken, I roll my eyes at the obnoxious rattling sound it emits, kicking it until it straightens out.

Trailing through the isles, grabbing each item quickly, it doesn't take long before I am up at the counter. Jed, the kid who has lived next to me since we were kids, ringing me out. He's quite peculiar, we were both the odd balls. We became close friends, confiding in each other our dirty little secrets, until one night he ruined it all. He gained stupid confidence seemingly out of thin air, confessed his love to me, begged me to give him a chance. I told him I wasn't interested, it was nothing against him, I just wasn't in the head space for a relationship. He couldn't take no for an answer, tried to shove himself onto me. Our friendship ended that night, while a burning hatred festered within me.

I don't make eye contact, ignoring his attempts at small talk, while he acts as if everything is normal. He never even attempted to apologize afterwards. Tossing the cash onto the counter, snatching the bags up, I hurry to the exit, desperate to escape this store. A total of two minutes, completely ruining the night. The unpleasant thought that I deserved it for being a weakling begins bubbling up. I never confronted him. I hid instead, locking myself away. If only I could have been strong, brazen, fought for myself. There is no point dwelling on what cannot be undone. I bury the thoughts deep inside, locking them away, to keep myself sane.