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Sincerly, Sophie

Sincerely, Sophie

All I can remember doing is running, for my whole life I had been running. Those police haven’t caught up with me yet. I wondered if they ever would.

My mother gave me this camera when I was just six. I would take pictures of scenes and many people.

I couldn’t stop myself I had to kill, the adrenalin raced through me every time I would push that blade through another’s deep cold heart. Their pain always cured mine, I wouldn’t leave any evidence either so it was hard. And I was good. Just before I burned the body I would snap a picture

“Click.”

Their bodies sizzled, as they quickly became dust in the wind.

I was at a diner one morning and this gorgeous girl, with fine black silky hair walked in.

“Hey Julie.” The waitress shouted

“Will you have the usual?”

“Ya, but I think ill have an order of fries.”

I was a tall husky man with brown shaggy hair that flowed and bright green eyes. I was always preferred by the ladies for my bulky muscles. They would always sit down beside me and flirt. That’s what pushed me over the edge, and what made me kill. She didn’t look at me. In fact she completely ignored me, walked straight passed me without a glance.

Usually I got out of town after I murdered, but here people were different. Know one looked didn’t even say a word, so I went against my natural instinct and I stayed. I went to the diner every morning for about a week and gazed in amazement at her magnificent beauty. I knew she wasn’t coming to me, so I went to her.

“Hello.”

“Can I help you?”

“I just thought id introduce myself, im Tyler.”

“Sophie, what exactly do you want?”

“Nothing. Ill leave.”

She really had no interest. I was speechless. I wanted her more than anything. I had no intention of killing her. So I walked back over.

“Sorry to intrude again but your so gorgeous. I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner?”

She wasn’t trying to be rude but it sounded like she was.

“I don’t date.”

“Its just dinner.”

“Fine.”

I walked her back to her house and she invited me in. We walked for a few hours and she started to like me. She wasn’t that bad girl type, she was hurt and I wanted to help. I had my camera around my neck and I snapped a picture of her distressed look.

“I hate my picture being taken!”

And she ripped the camera off my neck, snapping the rough bristled strap in half. She laid my camera on the table and we sat in silence. I woke up the next morning in her chair, though I don’t remember ever falling asleep.

“Good morning.” A beautiful sweet, soothing voice called from the kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

I walked into the kitchen I couldn’t help myself. I was starting to trust her, starting to fall in love with her. She turned and stared straight into my eyes.

“Your not going to leave me are you?”

“What do you mean?”

I was forced to tell her everything. About my mom, the murders and about my camera. I wallowed in fear of losing her to the truth. I didn’t know what else to do so, I fell to my knees and pleaded.

“ Im sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t understand?”

“My mother left me when I was six years old and I haven’t been able to trust woman since. I’ve been killing and taking pictures of the murders with my camera. I cant help myself.”

“I wont leave you.” She whispered.

“I think im in love with you” I cried.

“Please don’t leave me.”

She bent down, wrapped her arms around my broad shoulders and hugged me. She hummed into my ear this time.

“I won’t leave you”

I found myself hugging her back, but tighter.

“How about dinner at the diner?”

“Sounds great” She exclaimed smiles stretching to the corners of her mouth.

We walked hand in hand to the diner. The wind hummed delightful tunes. I was happy, very happy. The lights glistened against the windows of the old town, almost like an old western movie without the swinging doors and horses. There were willow trees covered in Christmas lights, but it was spring and the crickets were chirping. We entered the diner shuffling our feet against the tile making squeaking noises and laughing as our shoes chirped. We both decided on coffee and then settled on walking over to the bench overlooking the lake and protected by the large willow tree.

“I’m sorry for what your mom did to you.”

“It’s not your fault at all, I was hurt and didn’t understand.”

She told me how her ex husband had abused her and attempted to kill her and how gentle I was to her.

“I love you.” She exclaimed and she kissed me tenderly.

I touched her cheek and ran my fingertips down her face and to her chin. I pulled her face towards mine and looked straight into her eyes.

“I love you too.”

That’s when I kissed her gentle lips and I could feel her hot breath on my lips. I got up and grabbed her hand and we walked back home. I don’t know how I missed that wanted sign with my face plastered on it, but I did. We got to the house and flipped on the TV and I seen my face on the screen. They would be coming for me soon.

“Stupid pigs!” I shouted I had to hide my camera; I took a shovel and my camera and dug a hole behind a bush in the garden, then tossed the evidence in the pit. Not one shred of brown camera showed after I had covered it. That’s when I ran inside and made this tape. I love you my sweet Sophie. The tape ended.

That’s when he walked out the door, I told him not to. I begged him to stay with my but the bright lights shown through the window and the echo of the police mans call rang

“Come out with your hands up!”

And that’s when he just walked out. I guess he lowered his hands or made a wrong move because shortly after he walked out he was shot dead. For his whole life he’d been running. This time he ran to me. Now it’s my turn to run to him. To whomever reads this? This was not murder, but suicide.

Sincerely, Sophie.



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

Nicole R. said...
Nov. 11, 2009 at 1:53 pm:
This was a really great story. I liked it a lot and i thought that the author did a very good job at writing it.
 
Westie_candies2012 replied...
Nov. 13, 2009 at 10:19 am :
thank you.
It was just somthing that popped in my head. like people seem to think that all stories have to have happy endings. i wanted to show that not all of them do.
 
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