Maybe that’s why…

She was so pretty. Brenda, I think, was her name. Small breasts, large blue eyes and brunette hair.
So young. So cute. So attractive.

Maybe that’s why he liked her. Maybe that’s why he sought her. Maybe that’s why he fucked her.

 

She was at the park, playing with the kids that afternoon. I watched her, while sitting in my car, from afar. She got them candies, and ran with their puppies.
So ostentatious. So fake. So showy.

Maybe that’s why he liked her. Maybe that’s why he sought her. Maybe that’s why he fucked her.

 

She then sat there on the bench, in the dim evening light, reading her tablet. As if she was engrossed in something extremely important. With a smile pasted on her face.
So shallow. So self-important. So self-engrossed.

Maybe that’s why ….

 

I had to speak to her. Find out what it was about her. What is it she had? What is it she did? What is it she lived? Find out what made him like her. Find out what made him seek her. What made him…
I walked up to her. “Hi, Can you help me with this address?” I asked, and handed her a piece of paper. She smiled her perfect smile and extended her long fingers to take the paper.
So pretentious. So irksome. So irritating.

Maybe that’s why …

 

She turned around to point in the direction opposite me, and began talking like there was nothing wrong or dangerous in this world.
So stupid. So naïve. So gullible.

Maybe that’s why …

 

I couldn’t bear to wait and ask her my questions. I made my move. I took the blade that I cut him with, and stabbed her throat too. She did not scream. Only stared at the trees above her, as she fell her gracious fall.
So serene. So quiet. So… beautiful. Beautiful? Was I beginning to get smitten by her too?

Maybe that’s why he liked her. Maybe that’s why he sought her. Maybe that’s why he fucked her.

 

Every night I go back to the park.

Every night I see her on that bench.

Every night I want to kill her, so she doesn’t remember, so she doesn’t hate herself, so she doesn’t grow up to be ME.

Every night I want to speak to her. Ask her why I was so pretty, so gullible, so ostentatious and so beautiful…

Because maybe that’s why he liked me. Maybe that’s why he sought me. Maybe that’s why he raped ME.