K A L O P S I A

EIGHTEEN

Ripping her heels off
she ran faster than falling
nearly collapsing on the marble stairs

It was not the dead body
which had her shook up
it had not been the blood
no

It was the girl
her life
the movement of her body
as her spirit
and life
had been slashed from it
like ribbon from a Christmas gift

The transition
the utter joy of watching
death screw life over
she had seen it

Reflected
mirrored
in the girl's eyes

How her lively, terrified, blinking hazel eyes
paused for eternity

That was the part of his methods
she had never seen before

Until now
she had always admired his work
adored it

Now she knew how lowly she had held life
in hands of sand
and she was now drowning in the waves
drowning
drowning
in the prostitute's blood

What had she done?

She had sold her mind, body and soul
to a monster

A monster who killed people
who had been inside her

"What are you doing here?"
his cold voice
made her spin violently