Reminiscing about the death of my beloved husband brings up a question in my mind. Will I ever stop? I can't see a stopping point in my near future. I get satisfied, but it's always on my mind, the next one. I can't finish one without thinking about the next. I don't recognize the woman standing in front of the mirror.
I barely remember who I was before I married my husband. I know I was sweet and caring. I would've never hurt anyone. I loved life and everyone in it. But that's all I can remember.
After getting married, a transformation was made to accommodate the fear and pain that came almost immediately after the marriage. That sweet, ignorant, naive girl had to die and transform into someone who could abandon her family and friends, keep her mouth shut, take a punch, and clean her own blood off the floor without any expectations of a better life, because it didn't exist anymore. I remember this girl a little better, but I can't feel her. It's like she was never here.
Once again, after a strange series of events, she died as well, and transformed into something dark and deadly. Something without any feelings at all, really. Causing pain is all that matters to this creature. All I see in the mirror is a monster. I don't know who or what I am anymore. But I do know that I want to kill. I need to kill.
I didn't want to do it again for a while. I was hoping to just let some of this serial killer business die down a little, before striking again. But I can't. The nightmares are coming back, already. I can't sleep. I can't think straight. I have to do it. I have to do it tonight! I'll leave. That's it. I'll pack up and leave this city. I don't have much here, anyway. I could get out of here and into a motel room by dark. Then I can hunt for someone in another town, without as much worry over getting caught.
I keep my packing simple and light. I take as many clothes as I can fit into the two suitcases that I have. I grab my jewelry box, three pairs of shoes, and some toiletries and stuff them into a duffel bag. Everything else, I just leave behind. I had sold my car years ago, so I call a cab, grab my purse, and wait.
While I'm waiting, that mirror keeps catching my eye. I don't know this person, but I am a prisoner to her will. She keeps me hungry for more. She keeps me awake at night by the nightmares she puts in my head if I try to sleep. She's the one. She's the beast that makes me do these things. It's not me, it's her. Now I know the answer to my question. Will I ever stop? No. Never. She won't allow it. She'll kill me first. Just like she killed the others. They weren't good enough for her, so she killed them, and created me, the perfect killer with an incredible lust for blood.
YOU ARE READING
My Ghost
Mystery / ThrillerAlthough, it's not unheard of, a female serial killer is very rare. But after years in an abusive marriage, I became one. The darkness that grew inside took over like a plague. The first victim was myself. I killed who I was and became a monster.
