I see how people die. It only happens the first time I touch someone. A handshake. My arm brushing yours on the subway. All of it. So much noise, every day and all the time. Drives a girl crazy after a while. If there's no skin contact, my head belongs to me for a few more seconds each day. I've seen every scenario. Except for one. I've never played an active role in a death. That is, until now. Copyright © epicmishamigo 2019 July 25th 2019- October 8th 2019

A terrible story in which a girl wishes she'd gotten chlamydia instead.