Under Your Skin,
By Kate Edwardson, 13
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Another day of being me, or the person I took before, but
however you see it, there is only one way to describe my current emotional state; utterly
bored. As my clock strikes midnight, it whispers softly. Temptingly, the glinting cabinet,
tucked away in the corner of my grand living room, beckons me closer to the carved
handles that open to another world, where I feel most at home. Every step I take builds
tension, the angel inside begging me to turn away, but the devil has already taken me.
There is no going back.
Carefully, I dart out of the doorway, my hands clasping in anticipation. Creeping into the
shadows, I am comforted by the chilling fantasies that awaken in my mind. A lively set of
footsteps echo down the alley; the fragile silhouette of a young lady is casted onto damp
cobbles. Swathed in mist, the woman takes a sharp turn, striding in black stilettos. I
crouch down, eager to become the monster that I truly am. She moves teasingly close. I
leap. My hands grasp around her windpipe as a muggy darkness creeps into the corner of
my eyes until my vision goes black.
*****************************************************
Now, the sun is rising, innocent of knowing the sins I committed the night before. I’m
dozing, wrapped up in my victim’s, well… I suppose I’m very good at getting under
people’s skin, maybe I’ll practice tomorrow.
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