Tell me what happened to you. I want to know," she said, her eyes glowing with curiosity. "I love stories."
I gave a dry smile. "This isn't the kind of story you see in movies or read in books," I replied. "This is real life. And for stories like mine… no one is ever really ready."
She leaned back, took a sip of her coffee, and met my gaze without blinking.
"I'm ready," she said.
I studied her for a moment. "You might be scared of me after this," I warned.
Her eyes widened, but not with fear—excitement.
"Oh really? So it's a horror story? Are you a ghost?" She grinned. "Or maybe a demon? What if you're Lucifer himself—like in that show. That would be so cool!"
I frowned, unsure if she was joking or completely unhinged.
"Just imagine," she continued, her voice animated, "you're the King of Hell, punishing other demons. Or maybe…" she lowered her voice dramatically, "you're a psychopath. A serial killer. You've murdered countless people and now you're hiding, using a new identity. Are you?"
I blinked.
"It's okay," she said quickly, her voice filled with delight. "I won't tell the police. I swear, it'll be our little secret. I could even help—dig graves or hide bodies. If you ever want to disappear underground, I've got you. Just tell me. I'm really excited!"
She leaned in closer, her face a mix of mischief and madness.
And I just sat there, staring at her, wondering what kind of girl I was talking to.
She didn't sound fascinated—she sounded like a freak. Like a psychopath.
And all I could think was:
Why do things like this always happen to me?
Is this another chapter of my life?" I wondered.
Would it be like the ones before—pure hell?
Or maybe, just maybe, God had finally shown me mercy…
and sent this idiot to save me.
To turn my chaos into something close to heaven.
I was tired—tired of everything.
But part of me still hoped this chapter would be different.
You're totally staring at me like a freak," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you falling in love with me… or am I your next target?"
She leaned in with a grin. "Please don't kill me. I swear, I'll help you. We could be partners—I'll keep all your secrets."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, eyes shining with thrill.
"Honestly, I just want to know what it feels like... taking a life. Just one chance. That's all I'm asking."
I blinked.
"Can you stop sounding like a complete psychopath?" I said,
She smirked. "Sure. But only if you stop staring at me like I'm your next victim… and also if you tell me your story.
Okay," I said, "but if you interrupt me, I'll stop right there and leave."
She quickly put her finger on her lips in a funny, dramatic way,
And then, for the first time in a long while, something strange filled me.
Hope.
Looking at this weird, dramatic girl, I felt like maybe—just maybe—life was giving me another chance.
A new start.
In a new city.
With a new partner. Maybe even a funny one.
But still, I didn't understand why she wanted to know my story so badly.
What was she so curious about?
Why did she care?
"Why are you smiling?" she asked. "Come on, tell me the story!"
I looked at her and said, "I was just testing you. And guess what? You interrupted."
Her eyes widened. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she said quickly, putting her finger on her lips again, just like before—dramatic and silly.
And this time, I couldn't stop a small laugh.