[𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍-𝐎𝐅𝐅]
Drug cases have spread around the city of Chicago like wildfire, and Mavis Loman has been tasked with finding the root of it all. However, there is just one man who knows the ins and outs of every crime as if he w...
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Sunday, October 29th
I made it here on my own. Though the route felt so unfamiliar, I find myself approaching the door. There's no key in my pocket, nor do I remember any code.
It has been long since I've had such a surge of emotions and energy. Most people call it "mania", but I think of it as the only excitement I ever feel in my life. It clouds my mind, leaving me unable to think straight.
I don't bother trying to waste time looking for a way to unlock the door. My hand grips the handle, and I pull up, then down. I stay as quiet as I can, so I do not wake up the neighbors. I would hate to have them ruin my fun.
With a forceful tug, I pull the handle down and towards me. To my surprise, it rips off easily, and the door opens.
The apartment is dark, with only the light from a large window peeking through. The moon illuminates from the couches to the island table in the kitchen.
I move quietly through the living space, and my own reflection catches my eye on the TV. I look at myself often. Whether that be through a screen or a mirror. I stare at myself.
I practice mimicking the emotions of others with the perfect parts of my face. I know I can do it better than all of them.
I glance down the hall. There are only a few doors. The first is open, but it is only the bathroom.
When I get to the next door, I see that it is open just a crack. I push on the door gently and peer into the room. A bed, desk, and closet stare back at me. A guest room.
I tilt my head to look back into the hallway. The last room is at the end. The door is closed all the way.
I saunter to it and push down on the handle. It opens, and I step in. Through the dark, I can still make out the parts of the room.
A closet door. A desk and a monitor. A chair. A bookshelf against the wall. A bed.
And the silhouette of her.
I squat down by the bedside. The clear outline of her body shows even underneath the blankets.
Her face is towards the door, giving me a perfect view. Black hair gently falls down the side of her neck, with only a few strands over her light brown eyes. Her lips are slightly parted.
I bring my finger up to the corner of her mouth where it hovers over her skin. I pretend to draw a smile from her lips.
"Smile for me," I whisper.
I was disappointed when I saw that the smile would never be real. Even in the end, she couldn't smile for me. How could she think to not even spare me the smile she flashes for others?
