Isolated (Jeff the Killer) [NOT A LOVE STORY]

July 2nd 2010

 July 2nd 2010

 I just got a note that says, “tonight, silly, stupid Shelley”. I’m not sleeping tonight. Silly, stupid Jeff. Stop calling me that. Stop it. I know you’re going to read this. I know you’re going to put it out there to warn people. ‘Silly, stupid Shelley’ doesn’t exist. There’s only me... Shelley. And I’m going to kill you first.

   I’m ready for you. I’ve got a knife from the rack. I’ve got all the knives from the kitchen. So haha, you’ve got none. You always take them from the kitchen anyway, I know you do.

   Maybe you’re stupid, Jeff. Maybe you underestimated me. You won’t get a hold of me.

   Or... maybe you will. I’m a coward, I admit it... but I haven’t been cornered before. And I’m cornered now.

   It’s midnight now. And Jeff is right outside my door. He’s laughing. My God, he’s laughing his head off and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Why? Because it’s normal. It’s not especially cold, or creepy, but he’s psycho and he’s laughing like he’s with a bunch of his friends. He’s a maniac.

   I forgot to put something in the way of the door. And you kicked the door in. I’m under the bed with the knives. I can’t see your face... oh, wait...

   I think I just had a heart attack. Jeff, why? My heart’s pounding, you must hear it. Your face...

   It’s pale, pale white. Nothing living could be that pale. You don’t... you don’t have a nose. And your eyes! They’re rimmed with black. You don’t blink. You don’t have eyelids... but your mouth, Jeff.

   It’s cut open on either side. You’ve got a permanent grin sliced into your face. You cut it open with a knife, didn’t you? Why? Oh right, you’re a psychopath. That’s why.

   You know I’m here. You’re staring at me. You just asked if I was finished. You’ve been reading this journal. And there it is again, ‘silly, stupid Shelley’. Don’t call me that!

   And you just bent next to me, though you’re gone now. You told me not tonight, and that you wanted me to see you. See your perfection up close so I could appreciate it before that godly perfection killed me.

   Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go curl up under my covers and think about this. About my life...