Sol laid on her bed. She hadn't changed her bedsheets in a long time, and they were starting to become less and less comfortable as the thought of how dirty they were nagged at the back of her mind. In her hand was his phone.
The most valuable thing she had left of his. After months of guessing, disabling and attempting to figure out his password which he had never let her know, she figured it out.
9264. She had no clue what it meant and had no desire to find out. She'd gone through his phones hundreds of times after he'd died for no apparent reason. She'd found out everything there was to find. Texts between him and his freshly-grad, his Tinder profile he'd set his status to 'single' on, messages between his parents discussing Sol, everything.
It didn't matter, because at least there was his camera roll. Hundreds of pictures of him with his friends, an occasional selfie or two, or an off-guard picture of him taken by a buddy. As she studied them, for the nth time, she realized he was ugly.
This man, was hideous.
Sol blinked. What? She thought, immediately scrolling to the favorite's album full of pictures she hearted herself. Even looking at pictures she'd herself named his best, all she saw was an average white man with brown eyes, a dissipating hairline and teeth stained slightly yellow. A wart on the side of his cheek protruded like a sore thumb, his sideburns progressed foolishly far.
He hit her. This man cheated on her. This, creature, ruined every aspect of Sol's life.
Her eyes darkened.
The girl slapped herself in the face, hard. It left a harsh, buzzing sting and painted the side of her cheek red. She couldn't think like this, no.
Because the last time she thought like this, she killed him.
