Her name was Michelle.

I was sophomore in high school when I first saw her. Her hair was long and brown. She wore one black earring on one of her ears. She was a peculiar girl. She wore different types of clothes than your typical teenage girl. Usually it was black with some other color, maybe some skulls and the like. But the most memorable part about her was her smile. I followed her quietly and watched her from a distance while she talked to her friends-to-be, and I saw her smile and laugh. When she smiled, I could see her teeth very clearly. They were white. Her lips were puffy, but not too puffy. She wore purple lipstick that day, so they were shown in their fullest beauty. And that's what she was. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Of course, my hormones were at their fullest, like a teenager would have them. But I didn't focus on any of that when I watched her next to her locker, when I spied her walking to her house. I didn't think of plowing her and forget about her immediately afterwards like most guys our age. I wanted to get to know her. And I definitely wanted to see her beautiful smile more often. It dwelled in my thoughts when I lied in my bed at the middle of the night, thinking about her.

But I didn't for the longest time. I was as most people would refer to as, "a wimp." And I wasn't too strong either. I was tall and lanky without much muscle. Practically a tree branch compared to the jock douchebags I mentioned earlier. But I still watched her. She or one of her friends she always hung around might've spotted me once or twice staring throughout the year, but I WAS quite good at hiding my attraction for her. Doing so, I learned a lot about her aside from her name. Since she always had a sketch book in her binder, I could tell she liked drawing. Coincidentally, we took the same classes, and every once in a while when she looked bored during history, she'd whip out the book and quietly doodle on it. She only did this in history class though. The teacher (I think his name was Mr. Boist or something. I'll refer to him as Mr. B) was particularly old, and we sat around the back of the classroom, so it made sense she'd only use it there. I sat one or two seats behind her, so I got a glance inside of the sketchbook sometimes. Every time, I saw extraordinary drawings. Sometimes she drew animals, like rabbits or foxes, which were incredibly realistic, and sometimes she drew her friends, which were of course of the same quality. She must've been a prodigy of some sort, because her level of talent was astonishing.

It was a Wednesday, around one in the afternoon, which was when Mr. B's history class ran. I think he was talking about World War II, I don't remember. I figured it wouldn't hurt to stray away from his lecture since the information was in the textbook anyways, so I carefully slid to the side on my seat to see what she if she was drawing anything. She was, but WHAT she was drawing made me queasy and made my heart beat faster.

Now, as far as I knew, she had no idea who I was or if I even existed, but she was drawing ME. I cursed myself in my head, thinking she must have seen me too many times and started noticing what I've been doing all year. I was fearful of what was going to happen. Was she going to tell everyone I was a creep? Was she going to react fearfully if she ever saw me looking at her again? I told myself in my head not to think about it, never watch her ever again, and embrace the fact that I'd lost the privilege of seeing her smile. I shook my head and went back to paying attention to Mr. B. The day went by normally, but the sickening feeling of embarrassment followed me throughout all of it. After the last class of the day, I was back at my locker, getting my stuff together. I wasn't hurrying like I usually did to have more time to spy on Michelle, since I had already established I'd never even glance at her. Before I stuffed the last book into my backpack, I felt someone behind me. "Hi." My heart beated faster, but I tried to keep my cool. I turned around to see Michelle, actually trying to TALK to me. "Jason right?" Holy shit. She knew my name! "Y-Yeah." "I'm Michelle." She spoke clearly, in a friendly voice. Unlike me, she wasn't shy. And she was great at starting conversation. We talked even as we walked through her neighborhood. I hadn't even noticed I had walked her home. She said goodbye and entered her house. I turned around and walked away to mine. We spoke more after that day. Much more. She even introduced me to her friends. I stuck around them, but mostly her guy-friends she introduced me to. Months passed, and we were practically a crew. Michelle and I grew even closer, talking during free periods, hanging out on weekends (with other people of course), and she eventually asked me for my number, so we started texting. Michelle changed my life. I used to sulk around in my room in the afternoon and in weekends lonesomely; but now I had friends who I cared about, and who cared about ME. I was happy.

I'm a senior now. And things had gotten from good to even better. I had left my phone at Michelle's during a Walking Dead marathon her and I watched with a couple of friends. It was Saturday, and since I love my phone beyond limits, I went to get it back. I knocked on her door, and she answered smiling that same beautiful smile. I never got over her. I loved her. I told her that I left my phone and she told me to come in as she rushed off to the kitchen. About forty seconds passed and she came back, my yellow cased iPhone in hand. "I was going to give back to you at school on Monday. I guess you can't survive without it can you?" she joked. She stepped closer and handed it to me. But she held on to it after I grasped it. I was confused, but I realized we were close together. Closer than we've ever been before. She gazed into my eyes and I into hers for several seconds. I dipped my head forward and pressed my lips against hers. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around my neck, which prompted me to put my hands around her waist. I basically dropped my phone on the ground, but I didn't care. I pulled away and told her what I'd been wanting to say for so long. "I love you." She smiled, and was almost tear-eyed. She hugged me and said what made me the happiest guy in the world. "I love you too." We cuddled together on her couch, watching TV until around seven. We said goodbye with another kiss. I laid awake that night; I couldn't stop thinking about her. I always knew I loved her, and now, I know she loves me too.

The months after that, I can easily say, were the best months of my life. We spent weekend nights cuddling as we did the night we admitted our feelings for each other, and we went on dates. The weekdays we spent together as much as we could. And everyone was completely supportive. Even Tyler, my best friend, said "It's about time" when we told him. Michelle and I were happier than we had ever been. I remember the first time we made love. She was over at my house, studying with me (we had an exam coming up) when things got physical quickly. We kissed each other passionately; she broke away and held up a condom she brought, smiling. I carried her upstairs to my room, already unhooking her bra. My parents were away at a party, so we could make as much noise as we wanted. She moaned in pleasure as we began and cried "Jason" again and again as we went on. I woke up with her head on my chest.

The year progressed and college was nine months away. Michelle was changing however. She was blowing me off consecutively when we would usually go on dates. She seemed less happy to be around me. I asked her about it, but she said she was just tired. It drove me crazy. Just months ago she told me she loved me, now she seems to despise my affection. So it didn't surprise me when she told me she wanted to break up. Her words of love replaced by those shattered my heart. And in a way my spirit. I didn't leave my house much after, and I didn't communicate with any friends either. I was as good as dead, very much like my life before Michelle came into it. It was so much worse. She was the light of my life. She broke me out of the tough shell of loneliness I was encased in. But now she just shoved me back in.

I did something I hadn't done in a long time. I followed her home after school. She didn't see me; I hadn't forgotten my old skills at un-detection. I decided to hell with my homework, and I waited outside her house to see what she was doing. I must've spent like two hours waiting for something. I didn't know what I was waiting to see. I looked in her windows- she was doing homework. I got up out of the bushes I was hiding in and was about to leave, when I saw Kaitlen, one of her friends, walk towards the house. I quickly sat back down and watched as the she knocked on Michelle's door. Michelle answered, and smiled. She smiled at THIS bitch, but not at me. But what crushed me was when Michelle kissed her.

They walked up to her bedroom and laid down, making out with each other intently. I couldn't watch anymore. I climbed down from the window to her room, and I heard a clap of thunder when I landed. I felt trickles of rain fall on my head and shoulders. I gave it no attention, I walked back to my house in misery. My mother rushed to me as I walked through the door, dripping wet. She shouted at me, asking why I was so late. I gave her no attention and walked upstairs to my room. She yelled at me, and tried to follow me up, but I slammed the door and locked it. I punched my glass computer desk, shattering some of it and leaving my fist bleeding. I paced around my room, crying deeply, but thinking about what to do.

The fucking bitch was probably cheating on me before she broke up with me. I pondered long and hard on the matter and decided. I waited until three in the morning and I snuck into the kitchen. I opened a drawer and saw the variety of kitchen knives we had. I pulled out a long, toothed one. I quietly walked out the door and stumbled through the moonlit night. It wasn't raining anymore, but it was cold as shit. I reached Michelle's house and stood several meters away from the door. I thought to myself, planning on what I would do. They obviously had a burglar alarm, and breaking any other window would wake everyone up. I looked to my left and saw a shaft covered by two doors on the ground. It had an old lock that broke easily and quietly. I opened it up, trying to avoid it creaking too much. The doors lead to a basement, and I walked inside. It was dark, so I shined my phone in front of me and I found the door leading to the kitchen. I walked up the stairs and entered Michelle's room. The two were in their underwear, asleep.

I stood in front of the bed and looked at the knife in my hand. I looked to my side, and saw my reflection on a mirror. I was shaking. My thin jacket and white T-shirt were wet from the rain earlier today. My black hair was covering most of my face. I looked away from the mirror, disgusted by the image of myself. I head darted back to the two lesbians on the bed. It was very similar to the night Michelle and I had sex for the first time together. But this time, when her parents were out, I could make as much noise as I wanted.

The toothed knife I held glided over Kaitlen's sleeping body. I held the knife over her neck and thrust it deep inside. The bitch's eyes shot open and blood squirted in all directions, a bit landing on Michelle, which is what woke her up. She rushed out of the bed, screaming, so I pried the knife out of Kaitlen's neck and tackled Michelle. I pinned her to the ground and pressed my hand against her mouth, silencing her. My sweet Michelle had tears down her cheeks. "Scream and I'll cut your fucking legs off." I pulled my hand away from her mouth and she cried and trembled. "Jason, w-what are you doing?! Please, stop!" "Shut the FUCK UP!!!" I plunged the knife into Michelle's chest and even more blood splashed on my white T-shirt. I pulled it out and stabbed her again and again. My love's crimson blood splashed on the walls and spilled on the carpet. She gagged and coughed blood. I proceeded to cut her hand off, using the knife like a hacksaw. She watched wide-eyed while I was sawing at her wrist. I got up and looked at what I had done. Her corpse laid on the floor, blood all around it, large punctures on her chest and her severed hand laying on the floor.

I knelt down and kissed the blood splattered corpse on her lips. Wiping off the blood off my face, I left her house. I didn't go back home. I don't have a home anymore. That was six months ago. I sleep anywhere now. I don't eat much either. I don't have many joys now that Michelle is gone. But I have gotten a hobby. I'm addicted to it by now. The screams of folks trying to get away. The sound of my knife tearing through their flesh.

This is my new love now. This is my new Michelle.