The Sweetest Kill: A Young Adult Paranormal Read Free Page B

fair city. The discovery of twenty-year-old university student, Kimberly Moss, has been met with devastation and shock this morning. Her death is the third similarly executed murder in the city, leading some to believe that this is the work of a serial killer.”
    My attention is immediately grabbed by the term ‘serial killer’. This city has had its fair share of crime, but a serial killer? It seems too Law & Order. It’s seems too reminiscent of movie and television series plots to actually be happening here. When I realize my Ramen is done, I stand and get it while keeping my eyes on the TV.
    “The first confirmed victim, discovered just a month ago, was Karen Hyland, a single mother on her way home from work. She was found two days after being reported missing by her boyfriend. Her remains were found in a dumpster.”
    A picture of a cheery looking brunette with a toddler in her lap comes on the screen. She looks happy in the picture and I wonder why she had to die. When the news reporter speaks again, the picture changes to another brunette. This woman looks less clean cut as the first one. Instead, she is pouting flirtatiously at the camera in the same way I’ve seen girls do at the café.
    “The second confirmed victim was identified as Julie Schaffer, another young university student who was found in the bathroom of a nightclub downtown. Both women’s throats were slit, but with no evidence of a sexual assault. The police have yet to find a motive for these crimes.”
    “Thrill killer?” I think out loud. “That would explain the lack of sexual assault and quick deaths.”
    “As the body count continues to rise, the police are urging young women to stay in groups when going out at night. All three women were seen walking with a white male, sometime before their disappearance. There are no suspects at this time.” Christina Collins says gravely before her image on the screen is replaced with the picture of a bright-eyed blonde with a huge smile. The caption, “In memory of Kimberly Moss” , flashes below the photo. Christina comes back on the screen and says, “Please stay safe on the streets. Back to you, Tim.”
    I tune out the rest of the report as they change the subject back to something less troubling. I switch the channel to reruns of The Simpsons and pick at the ramen in my bow, thinking that those women didn’t want to die. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then my thoughts go a bit south.
    What if it were me? What if I was the woman this guy went after? All those women had so much to live for, so wouldn’t it mean that the next victim would as well? What if instead of her, it was me he took interest in? What if a person with nothing to live for was the one who had their picture on the news? What if that person was, in fact, me?
    The idea seems insane, but it also seems like the perfect way out for me. After my last attempt at ending my life, I made a promise to my parents. I told them I wouldn’t try again. It was a promise I quickly regretted making, but one I made all the same. Now, there’s this perfect loophole placed right in front of me on a silver platter. I could end all this and not hurt anyone with the knowledge that it was, in fact, my desire to die like this.     
    Emptying the other uneaten half of my ramen into the small trashcan in the kitchen, I place the dirty bowl in the sink. Could I actually do that? Even if I was able to track down this killer and put myself in his way, what are the chances he would take me? I glance down at myself and feel my stomach drop. My chances aren’t good if his previous victims are any clue. He apparently has a liking for prettier women, and I am nowhere near desirable.
    After turning off my TV, I set my alarm and get into bed. I stare at the darkened ceiling above me and try to think of some way that my plan could work. It’s a fucked up idea, but one that I can’t help but let my mind linger on. What if I could do