you.

people she loves to kill. who just came out of blue and suddenly became the most loved. most known. most favored. most attended to. talked to. stared at. cared for. who thinks they're entitled to everything including her job. her dream job.

oh, she leaves quite an impression. she knows that. messy hair and all. six feet to be exact, in her mind of course, her ass down that so called reception seat cluttered like a storage area that she could just start packaging taping the shit out of everything.

dragged her to envy, like a lit cigarette. took her last breath, like the smoke from her lips. she lied to you, and she liked it too. but her knees are bruised, from kneelin'. she had enough, but you're too hard to quit. her makeup's ruined. and now she's laughin' through her tears. cryin' through her fears. and god knows she tried to be kind. she can't just lay down and die, you know. right?

cross her heart. hope to die. to be your friend, she'd never lie. be true, and she swears she'll really try. in the end, it's you and her. you. it's always been you. the kindest. the best. the sharpest. the #1 in her envy list of people to kill. and she would've never expect to find the perfect you dumping a body on the same lake as her.

eye contact. knives out. she's just gone.