She/her

Everything I’ve written so far sounds like a clue left behind by a murderer showing off and I guess I am—showing off I mean. It took guts to finally kill her. I guess I am proud.

I didn’t always dislike her. We started, not as friends, but we co-existed. Indifference to keep the peace. But then I began to resent her. She was a nuisance. She annoyed me at every turn. She felt like a fog around me that wouldn’t lift. If only she had let me go. We could’ve gone our separate ways and avoided all this.

Although I feel bad for her too. I don’t think anyone has realized she’s dead. I keep trying to tell people but they ignore me. I just want someone, anyone to take her away from me.

I guess that’s why I’m writing this. Yes, this is a confession but I also want to start getting rid of her for good. Although I don’t know how quite yet. If I had more respect for her I’d bury her, but I don’t. I don’t think she deserves even that much. Can you even dissolve a human body with acid? And if you could, where would I do it? I don’t have a bathtub or anything like that. I don’t think I have anything that could contain her. I could cut her up and slowly dispose of the pieces. Like a leftover meat. That’s what she is to me now, just flesh and blood and bones. Maybe that’s all she was to me this entire time.

Now I think I should keep something as a memento, you know. Maybe a fingernail. That was one thing I liked about her. She kept them long and sharp, painted with colors and patterns and glitter. She loved glitter.

I tried to do my nails like hers but I just can’t.

I guess what I am saying is this: there is no room in my life for her. So yes, I had no choice but to kill her.