Seventeen Imagines III

#14 "Innocent Body" (one shot story)

  I killed 10 men. The process how brutal I was is vivid to my memory but the reasons behind my crimes are mystery. Why can't I remember my goal for killing?

  I know my name, my age, my favorite color and my favorite movie. Then why did my memory erased the most important part of my life? All I have right now is the last page of my diary with notes: "There's one more person I need to kill."

  It's been five years already. I'm well hiding myself from the authority while staying low. I never kill anyone since then but the guilt is always in my head.

  "Pizza delivery!"

  By working in water station, I rented a small space in an underground. Living here could be a little hard - cold, dark, eerie; but I managed to tidy it up as much as possible. There's no other choice for me since I'm hiding like a rat.

  "How much is it?" I asked to delivery boy.

  "Same price like last week," he said energetically.

  I always order on the same place but now that I looked into the delivery guy's face, I just noticed that they send same guy even from before. Not that I grew fond on him.

  "6pm," I uttered. "You're very energetic."

  "Thank you ma'am," he shyly said. His face is round, as well as his eyes. The way he smile is lovely, especially when it has a touch of shyness on each corners of his lips. Looking closely, he's cute.

  He isn't wearing any ID or nametags so there's no way of knowing his name unless I have the courage to ask him; frankly, I don't.

  "M-Ma'am! Your hand is bleeding! Omg!" He gasped after he gave my changes.

  I was cleaning on my bathroom when I accidentally hit my hand somewhere. Maybe I got this because of that.

  "I'm okay. It doesn't hurt," I said.

  "There's no way it does not!"

  Actually, it doesn't REALLY hurt. I've noticed this abnormality a long time ago. Whenever I got wounded, I don't feel any pain at all.

  "You need to go to the hospital. Come on ma'am, I'll take you," he offered.

  But I declined. "No need. I'll take care of my wound."

  He blinked swiftly as if he was left dumbfounded by my nonchalant response. "Are you..." He let out a long pause. "...scared that I might done bad to you? Well, it isn't easy to trust a stranger. But I've been delivering pizza for you since last year."