I have a friend. It's strange to think of him as such though as crazy as it may seem, he is my friend.
He is mine.
He sees beyond the simple things. Much farther than physically possible. He sees past smiles and frowns. Through built up, full-proof façades. He sees peoples' souls. He sees who they are; what they are.
Behind smooth talkers and syrupy laughter, he sees how silently fucked up they are. Hidden by 'prim and proper' and 'always in place', he sees the madman. The madman in the padded cell.
How lucky you are to be able to teach yourself what is right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable. How unfortunate you are to live as a shell, a wilting specimen for the sake of them who would never notice you otherwise.
My friend, he showed me that right and wrong doesn't matter. That acceptable and unacceptable is constructed as an entirely different thing for entirely different people. He showed me, you see, that there's no point keeping yourself contained when you could be something else. Something amazing. Rich and vibrant and soft. Satin.
YOU ARE READING
Satin
ParanormalRivulets of blood poured from the wound on the neck of the victim. My victim. The pool of red saturating her hair matched the satin draped across my knife. His hot breath dragged across my ear as he grabbed hold of my upper arm and whispered "Finish...
