Grey

     Prologue
     My childhood was okay. I'm not going to pussyfoot around and say it was great. Did it make me who I am today. No. My childhood did not define me in anyway particularly. Most people who saw a small, skinny, blonde haired, green eyed girl would think she'd grow up to find a husband, or make a career, or something of her beauty and say she'd become a model or actress. I'm sure those things were said about me and more. But I've always known that wasn't true. I've known forever there was a darkness in me. Something deep down that didn't stem from my childhood or genes. Something that would worry most people. I've known.

      My parents probably saw it. Maybe they didn't but most children didn't think or act like me. I was never one for dressing up or playing with dolls. Or a tom boy and play outside and have small animals in my pockets. I was more quiet and reserved. I loved reading and getting lost in a good story. I liked tv and going to school. As I grew up maybe my parents should have noticed more and I wouldn't be where I am today. The signs were there.
     My favorite TV shows and movies have always been horror. Slasher films new and old. Most girls were watching Disney and dreaming of becoming a princess. I was watching slasher films and thinking of what it would be like to feel a sharp blade press into someone's skin. How much pressure do you have to exert exactly?
That should of been the first sign that something was wrong with me. I know your thinking now this story it going to end with me killing someone but it doesn't.
     The second sign should of been how during science I was far more engrossed during dissection than watching plants grow or a life cycle. My fascination isn't with life. It's not with death. It's more of a morbid fascination of how a body works. You'd think okay so she's got a dark side. Probably not too bad right? She's pretty and smart. She'll be a doctor or nurse. If only it would have been that easy.
     Science class had always been my highlights in school. Where I shined. I had all the answers. I studied and got good grades. Teacher pet and all that. If your thinking that being a nerd that teachers like is good right, your wrong. No one said I did it so the teachers would like me. As I said I was particularly engrossed during discections. Being a teacher's pet meant I could take home parts.
So sign three for my parents should have been when I brought home a pig heart in a jar.
       A pig's heart in a jar. Filled to the top with formaldehyde. Preserved to sit in a jar for on a shelf in my room.
Or the cow eye.
Or that one time a friend called with a momma deer that had been pregnant and hit on the side of the road. When I went to gather the dead fetuses out of her womb. Why? To place in a jar for my shelf. I was 16 when I did that.
     I'm sure your thinking by now she must be a psychopath. Fascination is different. I didn't just want dead things. I wanted to feel the blade as it went in. See and smell the blood. The red liquid that oozed out wherever I'd cut. I'm sure between the oddness of me and the quietness most would think I was suicidal. That I'd cut myself to appease my morbid fascination. That this story is about a hero who'd swoop in and save me from torturing myself. Or maybe that I'd be a heroine and get better and become more. Sorry, this isn't a story, this is my life. And it doesn't end with me killing someone.

     That's how it begins.
     But if I'm not suicidal, then what am I?