what is wrong with me?

TW: murder, depictions of sa, gore, violence, strong sexual suggestion

Jones

Jones was sitting on the train on the way to work, he watched the sky move through the window. His dark green eyes glistened due to the weather. His beanie covered his head, only leaving a few small tendrils of brown hair to leak out. His slim frame and small stature made him stand out. His eyes slanted, curving at the corners and almost seeming as if he has both upper and lower eyelids contrasted his gloomy face. He didn't look like a typical 19 year old at all.

'.. Lately I've been having this feeling. It's so unsettling. I feel anxious down to my bones and I can't focus. I am constantly irritated… it feels like I'm not me…'

Jones thought, setting his books down at the table. Today was like no other day, or well, night. I work overnights, you see.

After settling down, signing in, counting the drawer and printing all the paperwork he needed - I sat at the computer, watching the camera while munching on a stolen candy bar. The screen would buzz, a fly occasionally landing on the camera. The empty hotel lobby, didn't feel so empty. Maybe it was built cheaply, but you can hear the HVAC running through the walls. It's a constant hum, and it almost becomes background noise most of the time.

Occasionally I hear the door open, but the door is locked unless I buzz them in.

It doesn't bother me though. I love things like this. I've gotten into the serial killer documentary thing lately, and I'm just on a jones. (pun intended)

After watching his favorite new show, A Murderer Box, on NutFilm, he's been vigorous in finding all the shows to make this adrenaline rush.

Anyways this is totally normal right? A lot of girls watch documentaries for hours, and then go teach kindergarten! My mom does this, so I know.

After wrapping up my paperwork, clocking out and getting home, I didn't even feel like taking a shower. I threw my outside clothes off and laid in bed naked.

The buzzing sound from work seemed to follow me. No matter what happened I couldn't make my ears stop. The constant buzz was going to drive me insane... what is this? Work PTSD!? And then I have to wake up, repeat, wake up, repeat..

After a while, it just seems empty, doesn't it? 'There's nothing meaningful in my life. I'm always doing the same things.. I'm always working and barely affording bills, and if I'm not at work I'm at home just sleeping.. until I can't sleep and then just repeating the cycle. Only those who are night owls, forced or not, could understand ..'

I closed my eyes, finally falling asleep.

At the sound of a fly buzzing nearby, Jones eyes opened up. There seemed to be a glint? But it was different.. there was no self pity and mockery, just arrogant hatred. His eyes scalded, and if you looked into them, you would be burned, too.

****

4pm

Driiiinnnggggg, drinnnnnnnng, drinnnnnnng

My alarm went off, and I really low key wanted to throw my phone.

But I can't afford it.

After giving myself my daily 'it's a adult thing to go to work and you'll starve and sleep in a box if you don't, so go to work. Plus they have snacks. You didn't eat' mantra in my head that I do six days out of the week, I looked at my phone. My boss called me seven times? Oh fuck.

"Hey boss. I was sleeping" I said, kind of grumpily. Not gonna lie.

"I figured' he hissed. Get up, and come here. Tiara called out and we have nobody else. I've been here for twelve hours already, and it's time to do your share. It's the reason you make more than everyone else!"

"Yeah, one dollar more.." Jones muttered

"What did you say?!" His bosses voice shreiked in his ear, the spit and yellow teeth visible through the phone.

"Yes sir. I'll be there" a curt reply responded, along with a click.

Why that little….! A man somewhere with a receding hairline, yellow teeth and a crooked tie screamed.

Why is my ear ringing? Scratching my ear, I got up.

****

Gen

I have a female, looks 16 years old. There are six stab wounds in her back, two lacerations on her head, once located on her forehead and the other on her crown. She is covered in bruises, her wrists shattered, swollen and black and blue. Her eyes stared right to the position I was standing.

"Can I have a glove, please" Gen called. After receiving the glove, he raised half of the sheet covering her legs.

There were tons of hand marks, bruises palpable throughout. Her right ankle seemed almost mutilated, hanging to the left, and upside down, might I add.

'Must've been painful,' Gen muttered.

We obviously know the answer to the question I didn't even ask.

A 16? year old female, raped, tortured, and murdered. Her rigor mortis was at its peak, muscles stiff before they become flaccid again, a process called secondary flaccidity. That means it's been 12 hours or less. Her time of death…

"Her time of death is marked as 1723 hundred hours, or 5:23pm, sir." The coroner, June called out.

Gen glanced at the small backpack located in the corner, and pulled out a wallet. Opening it, he saw a yellow school ID. She went to Y Uni.

Not 16.

"Looks like we'll be visiting your Alma Matter, hahaha"June laughed

With a glare, Gen walked off.