Murder

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I stared aimlessly at my reflection in the frosted glass, hair still soaking wet from the shower I was in 2 minutes before hand.
"Is this really me" the thought pulsated through my body, and yet, the same strange blank face stared back at me 
A blank stare.
A stare a stranger gives you if you sneeze to loudly.
A stare a supply teacher would give to a dislikable student.
Not my stare
I looked away, unable to look at the stranger who once was me, once was the little child who wore floral print with a plaid pattern, once was the person who wore those unbearably toxic gender assigned t-shirts and didn't give to flying fucks what anyone would think of them, the person who enjoyed talking and socialising without having to wear a painfully fake smile.
A grabbed my phone eager to see if anyone had messaged me about anything, anything new, exciting. Something to change the miserable teenage cycle I found myself caught up in.
It lit up.
So did my face.
One new notification.
I pressed to home button, slammed the code in, and was met merely by a notification from amazon
Your package will arrive tomorrow at 5pm.... Bla bla bla
Disappointment, an emotion that is engraved into my brain, the feeling is almost comforting although the small stone always still there. Digging and digging until I bleed.
I exit into my shared bedroom, my roomate gone to her boyfriends, as always I'm left alone.
Perfect
I reach underneath my single bed, accidentally knocking my head on the hideous metal frame as I kneel, I feel around until my fingers find what they are looking for
Bingo
I place it on my mattress, my eyes taking a moment to adore it's beauty, before carefully loading it - making sure the safety lock is on and placing it in my silver Ruby Shoo bag.
I love my hobby.

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