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As I watch this little girl changing through the window, I imagine... I wonder how it feels to be a child, young and happy, with not a care in the world? This is the true motive of the psychopath that is me. Curiosity. So, I decided to make a plan to "visit" this girl. She only lives with her father, and her mother is out in Texas, as I've eavesdropped on every conversation they've had via my portable camera. This family amazes me... why do they love each other so much? No one ever loved me when I was young.
Maybe I'll explore that too. So, I dress up in my regular, day-to-day clothes, which are a red T-shirt, slacks, and red Samoas. I think I probably shouldn't wear these, them being nice shoes and all, but why worry?

Anyways, I continue on to the house as casually as I can, cautious not to stir up suspicion. I mean, after all, this is broad daylight. I knock on the door very gently. As soon as her father can say "hello," I stab him through the eye when he's looking through the peephole. I take no witnesses.

I at least gave him a chance to open the door, so I walk in. I look at the seemingly floating eyeball through the peephole on my knife. I ask another question... what do eyeballs taste like? So, I take the knife and put the eyeball into my mouth. The eyeball tastes like blood, very salty and wet. The dad, however, was on the floor, his black work attire spattered with blood. I just may taste his blood in a bowl with a nice brown rice later. But back to business. As I continue to walk up the stairs, I hear the girl saying "Daddy! I think this shirt is too tight for me!" Judging by her voice, the girl had to be at least 8. Her voice so innocent and young, full of hope and happiness.

For now.

I smile as I wait for the girl's second sentence. Sure enough, it comes. "Daddy?" she calls, getting worried now. I hear only the sound of the rustling grass outside of the windows. A little tree branch taps against the window.

Tap-tap-tap.

She's coming out of the room now. I don't move. I stand perfectly still and silent, like a rat at night. As the door opens, I ready my knife in my sleeve. She's all the way out of the room, now. She's little, ginger-haired, and has adorable, storm-gray eyes. She couldn't be more than seven years old."Daddy?" As she sees me, she stops in her tracks. She doesn't see the knife, but she does see the blood on my clothes, lips, and shoes.

Tap-tap-tap.

She starts to scream, but I grab her and cover her mouth. "Shhhhhh..." I explain in a calm voice. "I don't want our little meeting to be interrupted by certain...people." The knife comes out of my sleeve. As she sees it, she starts to panic and struggle. I pinch her neck, and she falls into unconciousness. How beautiful she looks, sleeping peacefully and quietly. I had never seen anything more beautiful.

But all good things must come to the end.

I grab the knife and start to skin the little child as carefully and gracefully as I can be. Her skin is so soft, so lovely and moist. Even her insides look quite appetizing with a delicious noodle topping, maybe even with a bit of lamb chop. I lick my lips. How delicious. But before I do anything, I start to take the skin I took from her now lifeless body. I start to put it on my body after I dry it with a towel in the restroom. I rip holes through the fingers so I can have room.

The skin feels amazing, smelling lightly of roses, a certain perfume, perhaps. Her red hair is as soft as silk. Her face is as wonderful as God himself, maybe even more so.

But it's my face now.

Written by TheBladeCurse

Sequel coming soon

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