Lying is not the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off when you’re creative – Part II

(*Note: If you already read “Lying is not the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off when you’re creative – Part I” blog, please ignore this note and keep reading this next paragraphs lol But if you haven’t read that blog yet, you won’t understand this, so, read the second blog, please! Thanks for checking this)

A few days ago, my grandma came to see me after a long time without talking before her and without finding myself watching my face through her glasses. She was not in her best days and her health was not what it used to be. She had a problem in her legs and sometimes she just didn’t feel them… So, she had to lay or sit down in those situations. Her long years walking on this Earth had affected her ability to transport herself and when I realized she had decided to come to see me, I knew that was a big deal. Sorry about the tear.

It was true, I did something wrong and we had to do something about it. I killed a young, pretty girl and every minute inside of my cell, made me feel what I did to her in 162000 seconds and God knows how insane were each one of them.

Since the first time I saw the girl I assassinated, my body trembled. In the back of my mind, I started making plans to catch her in my trap. She would be my first victim and her green eyes would experiment all my nasty thoughts in a live session.

I couldn’t believe what I was saying, that’s the kind of thing you would hear from a lunatic guy! It was like if a killer’s soul possessed my body every once and a while… Sometimes, a little secret give our lives a quick escape from reality; others, a white lie assure you the happiness of someone you don’t want to hurt; but when you realize you’re the one who’s been a fool, that’s when you wake up. However, you look for an explanation for that action made against you, an excuse to forgive the liar, an answer to justify the one you love with all your heart… That’s ironically stupid. Because that is fooling yourself!

I never forgive, I’m not a saint, and I’m not a hero. That’s why Jesus was created for; he is the only one who could forgive infidelity.

I waited in my car for her to get out from that man’s house. The selfish bitch had a lot of fun that night, at least, until I kidnapped her…

I imagined the worst way to die and did it to her. I took the dirtiest knives and stained her legs. I let my anger, my insecurity and sadness flow through her body and I painted my walls and floor with red art.

Her eyeless corpse slept with my black-onyx car in the city’s lake for one week. Each bite a fish gave to her; a detective approached more to the actual murderer.

They caught me when she had no tongue and was more than a body a “fish-motel”.

Even with all my reasons to kill that fucking whore, I ended in jail; everything I did was in vane! I was single again and had a house full of clues that pointed me as the villain of the story…! It was a bad idea to keep her green eyes in my fridge and the bra she wore that night in my closet (incredibly, the bitch had my taste…!). I’m such a stupid girl!

“He had to be here, not me!! Why did I have to meet him!? Why did I go to the library that day!? Why did I take the number 54!? Help me, grandma! HELP, ME!” I yelled before everyone who was looking at me through the huge mirror saw how my body started calming down and how my screams became low-volume noises. Never in my whole life, had I felt so much peace and tranquillity than that moment. The venom ran in silence guided by my own blood as the darkness appeared in form of tired eyes. The fear came to me in the last second I remember, but I did what a strange voice told me to: Just sleep…