Ripped heart

A work of art

That morning, Marie decided that she would firstly learn where One lived. After a few investigations with the help of other journalists in her company, she saw that the woman lived in a very chic district in London, that was called Marylebone. But Marie barely had enough money to pay her rent as of right now, so she decided to pretend to live there and rent a little apartment nearby. 

In the train to London, she thought, she imagined how her plan would go, how One would react to her, how things would end. Marie wasn't the smoothest talker, and clearly wasn't used to get friends with rich and independent British women, especially when those women are murderers. As she was reading the newspaper in her low-class train seat, people. kept looking at her. They all looked like they came from London, while she was from a tiny village that didn't even have its own train station. The looks on their faces were a mix of interest and concern about what this person was doing here. Marie knew she usually got attention on her, because she dressed in pants and suits, while, in the 1900s, most girls wore long coats, dresses for cold weather, skirts for hot weather, and mostly, they usually accessorized their outfit with bows or hats, while her simple pair of glasses was clearly enough for her.

Suddenly, an announcement was heard where Marie was, saying that the train would arrive to London in no time. Everybody stood up and went to wait next to the exit, while Marie was putting her magazine back in her big brown bag, that was filled with articles and books, and also, a notebook with a pen that looked like it was an authentic one, brown with gold touches, with the name "Marie" written on it. It was probably something Marie was quite proud of, as she took it everywhere with her.

She got out of the train at 12:30AM, which was almost lunch time. She took a cab and rushed to her tiny apartment, where she quickly placed all her stuff. Her only goal for today was finding restaurants nearby and knowing where Marylebone exactly was, so that she would come and go easily, and find decent places to eat for cheap. As she was putting all her stuff in the drawers of the tiny one-room home she now had, she kept thinking of what she was about to do and adrenaline rushed down her spine. She now realized what exactly she was going to do, by herself, in London, mostly in a very chic district. In the end, she felt like all the manipulative British women out there she wrote articles about. She was going to be part of them now, and maybe one day, she'll make an article about herself, why not? 

"The woman who got a murderer with the art of gaslighting" she thought, before taking her brand new coat and head out in the city of London for the first time ever.