My attention was focused solely on the man who was murdered a few weeks ago. I spent many sleepless nights pondering my motive for doing so-IF I had done it. Arriving at my apartment with blood on my hands does seem to be the epitome of "being caught red handed", but there was something about it that felt off-like it wasn't my touch.
Suddenly a new article was posted. Skimming the details, I saw how it had been done between eight and ten that night-I was still on my walk-my blackout hadn't occurred until almost midnight-if not the early hours of that next morning. Not only that, but the details spoke of a witness seeing the person leave the scene WITH the weapon. Whenever I have taken a life, I have left the weapon there; a symbolic poetic justice.
I began to feel as though everything had become clearer. The weight of uncertainty began to lift and I could see things getting back to how they were.
Later in the day after Ava returned home from work, she tried to hide something from me. As I attempted to inquire, she planted steamy kisses on my lips-and although I would not give in for a million dollars, I didn't want us to have any secrets. I pushed past her and saw a pure, seemingly perfect red rose with a tag sliding down the stem. Pulling it to view, I read the contents of the tag aloud;
"To one who is perfect and flawless as a petal, I am forever sorry for my treating of you and please understand my heart is forever yours." -Victor.
My gaze was sharp onto her.
"Are you still talking to him?"
"Of course not! The last we spoke, he was moving back to Texas or New York or somewhere...He had movers here a week ago-I thought he was out of my life..."
"Why did you hide it from me then?"
"Because I didn't want you to get angry...things happen when you get angry..."
"I'm not the Hulk." I tried to make her smile, but all I got was a pitiful smirk. Her gaze moved to the floor.
"I mean that people end up hurt and I know you could never hurt anybody...but...it makes me feel unsafe."
Before I could control them, my hands reached out for hers as she met me half way. My skin brushed hers before I gave a sweet smile.
"I could never do anything but love you, Ava. You are everything good in my life."
I leaned forward for a kiss and was surprised to find her distant. I opened my eyes to see tears in hers.
"What is it?"
"The way you speak to me...you always make me seem so angelic...so perfect...nobody ever has..."
"And everything I say is true." I moved my hand to her cheek. "I love you."
She nodded before pulling me in for a lengthy kiss before I slid my hand up her leg in attempts to remove her dress.
"Not tonight...Matthew is sleeping in my room. He had an upset stomach this morning."
"Just something to look forward to tomorrow then."
She nodded before softly biting her lip and supplying me one last kiss.
On the way back to my apartment, I saw the door across from mine had been ajar and out of blatant curiosity, I peered in before seeing an image of a ghost. Glaring to the figure, I leaned on the door frame and glared.
"What are you doing here?"
"I had to leave the house beside my ex-girlfriend...it was getting too difficult."
"You have no right being here, OR sending my girl a rose."
"Oh come on, like you really care for her."
"I love her."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"Why would you think I don't?"
"Because killers can't love."
My heart stopped. He knew...
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Sociopath
Mystery / ThrillerLincoln Allen appears to be the most gentle person in existence. How people describe him? He wouldn't-couldn't even hurt a fly. But underneath it all...is a man who thrives off the darkness he must fight to keep hidden around those in his life. But...
