30
Sara
He’s gentle with me in the shower, his touch tender and incongruously platonic as he washes me from head to toe. I stand still; that’s all I’m capable of at the moment—just standing. Nothing bothers me right now, not my nakedness and not even his. Now that my emotional storm has passed, I feel empty, a fog of exhaustion dulling all my thoughts and feelings. I’m beyond desire, beyond anxiety and fear; all that exists is guilt.
Terrible, soul-crushing guilt from the knowledge that two more men died because of me.
They died because I let a killer into my life and fed his obsession.
It’s clear to me now, so perfectly obvious I don’t know why I didn’t see this before. I’m toxic—a danger to everyone around me. Today, the victims were two druggies; tomorrow, it might be my friends or
