She backed away, ready to defend herself. “I’m not using you John.” She was upset, angry; scared perhaps at the thought of me uncovering what she’s done. I knew she was probably just acting out her love towards me to prevent me from ratting her out or creating an argument, a disaster. It was a sad realisation to think that our relationship may be less than what I had imagined it to be. Her seductive acts, they were her tools, her means of control. She had me controlled alright, without me even realising it. I loved her in a purely disgusting manner, yet I didn’t want to lose her. Her body, her skin, her hair - everything was just so picturesque. “I fell for you the second I seen you, it’s no lie,” she stated. I felt like she was lying, but I let her continue. She started to explain, “I was in the school because I hated my life. Yes, I have stolen from my dad, but I can’t find a way to live without stealing from him. I’m pathetic, dangerous, I just wanted to take enough to start a new life and move on. When I made it here I liked it, so I decided to make this my new destination. I picked up some hitchhiker named Chad and he set me up with fake information so I could live here with a new alias. I rented out my place, set everything up how I had always wanted it and attempted to live out a new life and repress the darkness of my past.”
It had been so long, without her really telling me anything about her past, it was a new level of commitment unfolding while I listened to her open up. She continued with her story as we walked in the chill of the nights wind, but the coldness felt good although it made my eyes feel less tired.
“I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know, I just never had a desire to work,” she admitted. It came to be an ongoing theme with everyone, including me - trying to live wealthy lives without sacrificing for it. It was definitely what I had always wanted and I would have loved to share her stolen wealth with her, but I didn't want to appear as a mooch. I truly did care for her. She told me, “I thought about trying some jobs, but I wasn’t qualified for much. The minimum wage is like $9.00 and that’s all I could find around here. That’s an embarrassing amount to me making. I wouldn't even be able to pay rent.”
I felt embarrassed thinking about the dish washing job I had kept for nearly three years, struggling to get by and save as much money as I could. It was pathetic labour, I was treated like shit, and worst of all, I worked for only $8.50/hour until the very last day the minimum wage went up. I wasn’t a respected worker and my life there was pretty much to slave to the orders of a few assholes who thought they were kings of the world. Fucking cooks treated every dish bitch, well, like a bitch and quitting that job has been the best choice I've ever made despite the poverty it has resulted in.
Jessica started to open up her feelings to me and admit her past. “The world is a disgusting place; I can’t put myself to be ordered around by someone else. I guess you could say I’m too proud, so I decided to go back to high school. I never really did that great at it because I never tried. As I got older, knowledge became a bigger priority, but it costs money, time, and things that no one really wants to force them-self into. When I came here I thought I could turn back my life to seventeen, since I look that age anyway. I could restart, be viewed as a smart since I already know most of the stuff. I wanted to create a better path for myself. All of my information states that I’m seventeen, born July 24th, 1991. I can come out with honours, go to a good university-”
She had an elaborate plan plotted out. It was something special to discover this new aspect of her. She was a true beauty.
She continued, “-but then we had this accident. It turned both our lives upside down, but it’s not all bad. I have been falling deeply for you John. You are completely amazing...” She gave me a tingling feeling of affection. I didn’t care if it was genuine; knowing that her womanly functions were going to send me to nirvana was something special enough for that moment.
“Why did you kill the guy who gave us a ride?” I asked, after millions of re-runs of that moment forced itself upon my thoughts.
“It was in shock. I was scared, terrified, it was a horrific feeling John. To try and sleep every night is a challenge. That is why I started smoking more pot - it helps cool my nerves. Those pills you left here – those have been helping me out allot.”
I had completely forgot about those pills that were stolen from Sarah’s house - the ones Sarah and I were going to use to kill her after making irrational judgements about my situation.
“Where did you get them?” she asked.
I quickly thought of an alibi, trying to avoid bringing Sarah into the conversation. “I got them from a friend at school who has insomnia. I was having the same problem as you and he could tell, so he tried to help me out.” The truth was that I really was having problems sleeping and life was turning into a blur, but I had not taken any of those pills to help because they were supposed to be my murder weapon.