Twenty Years Earlier

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Tiffany sat down on her couch, tears streaming black down her face as she tried to take a deep breath. This was the first time in seven years that she had ever felt so low about what she was doing. It felt like her soul had been ripped from her very being, like every ounce of who she was or had been was deleted permanently from existence. She laid the 9mm on her lap and looked down at the black metal, feeling its cold weight on her bare legs. She could only keep thinking about her daughter, about the life she would have once she was gone. About the life that her daughter had had since she had started the horrendous job seven years ago. Then her mind wandered to the owner of the building.

His green eyes, like hers had been, piercing her the first time she had walked in. She hadn't been the beautiful woman she was now. Her hair had been dull and her face plain, like her unshapely body. She didn't have the knowledge she had been given. She also had a soul then and she knew now that he could smell it.

"Well hello there, looking for a job?" His voice was smooth, like glass but it still had an edge in it that she couldn't pinpoint.

She nodded her head, her black hair bobbing with the motion, "I've never done this before."

His smile was seductive, yet reassuringly scary when he motioned her in past the curtain and into the darkness, "Well we can teach you everything you need to know. Follow me and we'll get you started with some paperwork."

Tiffany shivered at the thought and remembered cutting herself months later. He had told her she would have those moments; he had told her a lot. She was sure that he loved her, in some way. They had been intimate so many times; he told her she was his favorite. The Manager had also assured her that she wouldn't die, not until her soul was safely put in one of those jars. Well she would be the judge of that.

She picked the gun up and put it in her mouth, closing her dull green eyes, once sparkling, before pulling the trigger.


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