A Little Death

three. Zoe

"If you see this, Becky, please, please call us at least to tell us you're okay. We love you so much baby-" Rebecca's parents cried on the news, gripping each other's hands,their eyes full of pain and devastation. I was sitting in the local bar, having a drink to congratulate myself on my victory. Oh man, was it liberating killing her. She made it easy for me actually, obviously, a selfish little minx like her was begging and crying for me to keep her life. "I have a family, please!" But Rebecca, we all have a family. That doesn't give you any right to live.

The image then cut to the news anchor, James King, a pompous man who genuinely could ease up on the amount of hairspray he used- it's like, we get it James!You don't want your toupee to come flying off your head, but maybe it's time you got a better one- you know, one that didn't look like an obvious toupee.

"Eighteen year old Rebecca Hart has been missing currently for three months after leaving her parents a cynical and unanticipated note, claiming she has skipped town and plans on making a different path for herself. The note read,'Dear mom and dad, thank you for looking after me for all these years. But I'm eighteen now and I'm an adult. I am sick of being the obedient daughter all the time and I crave my own adventure. Please do not look for me, you will not find me. I've made sure of it, love you.' This behaviour is odd from Rebecca from her parents. The police has decided to postpone the case due to no leads, but if anyone finds her, please contact the police."

"Terrible shame for her." A female voice said next to me. I took a drink of my whisky, and shook my head, trying not to laugh.

"Yes...a terrible shame." I said. I turned round to the woman beside me.

Wow. Pretty girl.

"That's the third one this year."She sighed, taking a sip of her vodka and lemonade.

You're gonna be the fourth, I feel...

"Do you think she's alive?" I asked her,

"No, I don't think she is. I mean, yeah I can believe she got sick and tired of being viewed as a goody two shoes, but she also seems like a wuss. She seems dependent. If she was really gonna be gone forever, she wouldn't have even written to her parents. That just totally fucks the point she's trying to make." She said.

Fuck. She may be gorgeous, but she's definitely got too much of a high guard. She would be too risky- but she doesn't have to be a quick kill... she could be progressed on. Maybe with her outsider thoughts, I can up my game when it comes to making sure I don't get caught.

"I'm..." I started, fuck I can't tell her my name. What if she ends up figuring me out? "I'm James."

"I'm Zoe. I haven't seen you round here before, are you new to town?" She asked me.

"No, no, I've lived here for ages. I just have came across this pub recently, a pint of beer for a dollar fifty? I'll take the Harper Inn over the Buckin' Bull anytime, as long as I get pissed for cheap." I chuckled. She joined in on my laughter.

"You're a cheapskate aren't you? You remind me of my dad, he wouldn't even pay a dollar if it was gonna miraculously save his life." She said.

Honestly, she was one of the prettiest I'd ever met. Her hair was jet black, she had a gorgeous pale complexion, with blue eyes. She was an exceptional beauty. I usually go for the little blondies who are skinny, but she had curves in all the right places, she was perfect.

"I'd say I'm smart with money," I smirked, "Tell me about yourself, Zoe."

"Well, I am also smart with my money. I'm not into getting my nails done or my hair every week,or buying myself extra clothes. The whole fashion industry is just one big polluter. I'm more into buying things that I actually need.I'm from Sicily originally, but I grew up here on a farm with my mom,my dad and my nonna. I was an only child, which was good but lonely. I moved to the city when my nonna died. I wanted to make her proud,you know? So I got into the University of Michigan, studied criminology for a couple years. Then my mom died- cancer. It was so hard dealing with the grief, so I dropped out.  Then I came back here to be with my dad. So now I'm here, sitting in a crowded bar drinking my pain away. Tell me about yourself, James."

Wow. She was fucked up- like me. Except she didn't kill pretty girls- well, I don't know if she hadn't.  Something strange was going on- I actually wanted to know her. I didn't want to just slowly torture her and then kill her. I genuinely believed she was beautiful inside as well as on the outside.

"Well... I'm James. I grew up in Manchester. I moved here when I was nineteen. I was sick of Manchester, I wanted to have a piece of the American dream. But it's not as cracked up as it seems to be." I said.

"Well, you certainly have the looks to make it here as a model or something. You know you kinda look like Mick Jagger?" She said.

"I get the Mick Jagger thing all the time. Once, these old broads genuinely thought I was him, they tried touching my arse and were asking for autographs. Weird women- if that's what fame gets you, I'll be fine without it." I laughed.
I was genuinely getting on with her, I genuinely wasn't even faking these laughs. What was happening to me?
"You wanna go somewhere else?" She asked me.

"Yes."