To kill a Youngster...

To loosely look at a person who can kill, they seem psychopathic with a deep tragic back story with horror that they only know. The old true tails of the murders that creep into your life and steel you away or just plain shoot you, have taken a toll on what safety means today. 

Not all murders have a deep tragic story behind it but something simple. 

It might not even be a story at all.

Not even chapter one.

I woke up like a sluggish druggie and like every other story about lazy teenagers it goes on daily. But I am real disappointed this is not a famous teenage story that will go on for a life time. I took a deep breath and sucked in the air of loneliness in a crappy apartment with a glaring bright light shooting thru the window. Never more have I ever felt like a castaway of my own mind. Swinging through my apartment that was smaller than I was a dangerous thing to do. With my bathroom other the other side only a few steps to the left and my kitchen transcending into my bed room it was the only privacy that I could get. But I don't need privacy I'm always alone. I am not going to go through a whole back story of loneliness throughout high school because this is all in my head. But it is always good to talk to myself it is really the only thing I do all day. I walked slowly into my bathroom. The smell of smoke from the outside street was stuck into the cracks of my walls. I am explaining this like a staring of a horror movie but in reality its not really bad once you get used to it. It let my hair loose onto my shoulders as the raged color of black drags down to my chest it knotted in to a bundle of wreck. As soon I was about to hop into a shower and the mood where I would sing songs and not have people hear it and feel better. I heard one simple sound a knock... 

"You have to be freaking kidding me!" I saw as I walked to the door with all my clothes still on.

I opened the door to see a man of a rather tall sort to be standing there with a full black suit. He opened his badge to show identification of being a police or whatever a FBI, CIA agent. It doesn't matter what he is, it matter what he is here for. He asked to come inside so I let him. I had no warning to clean or do anything plus I woke up looking like a druggie in a bad smelling apartment. He looks around and takes a breath. That was not fucking scary or anything. First I have to make a good impression... but I have to cross that of the list because smelly, messy apartment says it all.  

"Alright then... have you been informed or the recent event around this part of town recently?"He said in an overly concerned fatherly voice. 

"Not at all... should I be worried?"I asked quietly. 

He has been the first person in a long time to come into my apartment and ask me questions. This is not another love story or anything. First of all he is in his 40's and that would be gross. Second of all he sounds like my fath........errrrr and let's turn that train around to back on the right tracks. 

"You should be...and how old are you?"He questioned. 

"I am sorry but I do want to know about what is happening right now, I am old enough to rent an apartment and drive a car."I quickly answered back. 

"Well there have been events of recent murders. There have been happing to people from the ages of 18 to 26.We are checking all the residences of these streets to make sure of peoples safety. We encourage you stay with family or friends until this person is caught. We hope you have a good day" he informed in a happy manner.  

Not after any questioning at all, for me, he showed himself the door.