I was walking to his office. Ready. That is, used to it. I had done this many times before. It had become a ritual. Every Wednesday and every Saturday. Each time it was the same. All because I was just being me, because I had thoughts no one else agreed with.
They had all betrayed me, every single one of them. Sending me here, my mental doom.
I walked straight in, not bothering to knock, knowing I would find him alone. He gestured to the couch, I sat. We talked. I simply repeated the usual lines, my studied lines, like a robot. Twice a week, every week.
Finally the hour was over.
'I will see you Saturday!'
I didn't answer the phychiatrist and simply walked out. Why would I even bother, he just cared about whether or not my parents paid him.
I had just walked around the corner when I bumped into someone. I was definitely not in the mood to be acting like the friendly, innocent, cute, apologizing girl. In front of me laid a book. Probably he or she had dropped it.
'Sorry,' I heard.
Correction, he.
I recognized the title of the book, I was just reading it at home. I picked it up.
'No, it's okay. I should be sorry, I'm-,' I looked up.
His look pierced into mine, bright green. Emerald. My world stopped, my heart started beating faster. The heat washed over me and I felt myself turning red. Time slowed to a stop. My stomach turned around.
He was so perfect, so, so, so perfect. He was just what I wanted, what I needed. I had finally found him. The one. I knew at that exact moment, my life would never be the same again. The one.
The First Boy I would ever kill.
This plan, my plan. I could make it work. Finally.
I could see his eyes tracing my body, I knew the effect I had on boys, I could see it in his eyes, this would be so much more easy than I could have wished for.
My mood had changed, now I would act like the girl he wanted me to be. I had the ability to read boys like him, they were open books. So easy.
'It's a good book,' I said and picked it up from the ground.
He looked up to me, still grabbing the stuff that lay on the ground. It made me feel sick that someone like him read the same book as I did. No. I was nothing like him. That couldn't be. That shouldn't be. And I would make sure it wouldn't be.
'Yes, yes it is.'
'Jennifer.'
I held my hand out, he grabbed it while looking in my eyes.
'Brook.'
He had no idea he had just signed his own death certificate.
'How are you, Jennifer?'
'I'm good. Better than that even.'
I handed him over his book.
No way out for him now.
A few days later we went for coffee, he had insisted. Trust me, I did not struggle. We talked, but I never gave him information about me that could lead the cops to find me, but I wanted to find out all I could about him, wanted to know who I would kill. Looking for things that justified it.
And he did not disappoint.
Like I said, I had already thought this through, I could tell what kind of girl he wanted and I played my part perfectly. He suspected nothing.
