Michelle, you don’t love me. For sixteen years I believed you did. I thought you were all I had. Us forever. However, now starring in the mirror looking at the monster I’ve become, I think I know why.
What can I say? I’m drawn to pain. Suffering and death attracts me like a fly to honey. I didn’t always think like this. No, I used to be normal, believe it or not. Normal is a strange thing. Who decides it isn’t “normal” for girls to wear pants everyday? Perhaps it is normal to want to fix the world. Everyone wants to make the world a better place, they are just too scared to do it. Now I’m standing in my mirror, blood, (that’s not mine) all over my clothes, and I cannot manage to recognize the face staring back at me. I can still hear her screams. The poor innocent girl’s last breaths, dying on her bedroom floor. However, none of us are innocent. We all have sins. The world is a bad place and I believe I’m doing it a favor.
It started last year when I was just fifteen. That’s when the voice started. Talking to me almost everyday. Telling me to do things I wouldn’t even think of otherwise. In a way I liked it. Constantly being talked to, my only friend. It warned me of dangers and told me how to fix my problems. My family said I have changed since then. The doctors called it schizophrenia. But I called her Michelle. She showed me things and talked to me. I saw the world in a whole new light. A beautiful one, I might addn(although others call it darkness). Me and Michelle will fix the world, one mistake at a time.
Murder. I never liked that term. It sounds demeaning, like it’s a bad thing. Murder isn’t bad. Me and Michelle like to use the term “correction”. We correct the world. That is our duty. God wants us to fix his mistakes. Before us, God made dinosaurs. He wanted something to love him, worship him, and glorify his name. However, the dinosaurs killed each other. They ate one another and God didn’t like this. So, the Lord commited the worst genocide in all of hostory and sent a medior to start from scratch. Then, God made Eden. He made Adam and Eve, but Eve ate from the tree God said not to. What they don’t tell you in the bible is that God then killed Eve to fix his mistake. Would you say that’s murder or correction? So, my point is that me and Michelle are like God. She is an angel and tells me what to fix and I make the correction. God thanks us for this, because. even he can’t get everything right.
I have corrected three of God’s mistakes so far. One was an old drunk on the side of the road, my first correction. His cat called girls constantly, and even attempted to assault one. Was this person benefiting society at all? Was his existence more of a burden than a benefit? Michelle says this is true. She says he is dangerous. Now, he was dangerous, a thing of the past. No one misses him. Girls walking past the corner of Searidge are grateful for my actions .However, no one will know it was me. A silent hero. The missing apostle. I can almost hear the slow clap coming from the heavens. A thank you from the angels.
My second being a crooked businessman. He was racist, and harassed all of his female employees. God, men disgust me. The way they have mindsets that men are better because of the thing hanging between their legs. If it was my choice the world would be full of only women, but I guess God needed some entertainment. Anyways, he came to the small diner I used to work at so Michelle told me to lace his coffee. He called me sweetheart and stared at my body like a piece of meat. This made it all the more pleasing when he dropped dead on the floor of the diner, with no pulse. The police couldn’t find the source. His wife pretended to miss him but we all know he was sleeping with his assistant, and she saw my deed as a blessing.
All this leads up to right now. Today, I heard the voice telling me to go to my neighbors house, and make a correction. I was surprised at Michelle for this one, due to the fact that the only residents are a thirteen year old girl and her grandmother. But she told me they were problems and needed to be corrected. So, like always I took a knife and went to make the correction. I went straight to young Sarah’s room and did it. I ended her life. She spilled onto me like a stream flowing down the mountain. However, this time I didn’t feel any satisfaction. I saw no evil in her. I immediately ran home.
Now, I am starring in the mirror. Has Michelle been lying to me? Is she not on my side? I think of what I have become. Is it my responsibility as a sixteen year old girl to fix what an almighty being has done wrong? I can hear the sirens drawing near. This did not happen the other two times for I believe the men were truly bad. The voices. They wont stop. They are screaming now. Run! Jump out the window! So many. Who knew Michelle had a family? It wasn’t us against the world anymore. It was me against myself. I hear knocking on the door. Maybe it’s my time to sleep and never wake up. Life is like a book, and this is the final chapter. A happy ending for society and a sad ending for me. I let my own mind win. For the voices aren’t their own mind, but just taking over mine. I couldn’t tune them out forever. I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me. I always claimed I was correcting the world, but I now realize I am the issue. Maybe I should make one final correction, on my own terms. I thought this as I brought the knife closer to my neck.