Blood red roses

I kept my mind focused on the mysterious clouds that fogged over the bright, luminescent stars peeking through the sky. I gently lifted my eyelids, fighting the irresistible taste of sleep. The city bustled and moved. Everyone was hurriedly shopping and trying to buy a last-minute gift. They were all entranced in their own pathetic thoughts, not caring about the litter that plagued and cursed the streets, nor the homeless man about to sleep next to a giant corporate building in the middle of a bitter snowstorm.

but I could see everything from the dark alleyway, and the thing that stood out most was the bright selfishness shining through millions of city-goers' faces.

 Slowly, I moved my bruised hand to the center coat pocket and pulled out my seldomly used guilty pleasure. With The switch of a lighter and the burn of a cigarette, someone entranced me into a state of comfort. I closed my eyes, knowing with the cigarette in hand I wouldn’t dare fall asleep. The disgusting but addicting smell filled my nostrils, and I breathed it in as if it was oxygen. I was drowning before the beautiful thing touched my lips, and I could now consume my rare dose of serotonin. 

“Toxic thing, that is!” 

A small voice rung out, making its way closer to me. I opened my eyes, irritated, and ready to see who spoke to me. A young woman in a rich blood red coat shuffled past me with a fierce glare. Her frizzy black hair complemented her outfit, and a small smile traced my lips as she quickly waddled away. I had noticed a tan line on her ring finger. Only thing missing was a ring. “Divorced, or cheating..” I thought to myself. “Most likely cheating, considering she was filled with expensive designer items bought by her new secret boyfriend. The strong smell of two different colognes filled the surrounding air. Not only that, but her husband is abusive..? makeup caked her eye, covering a dulled purple bruise.”

“Jokes on you. I’m sure it’s much less toxic than your abusive husband back at home, darling.” 

I responded, shoving my poisonous cigarette back in its rightful place inside my mouth. 

her heels clicked on, and a muffled trail of curses stifled in her throat. 

I could almost feel the pain that the comment caused the bitch. 

“people like her deserve the most help.” 

I whispered to myself. 

“Perhaps I could help her..” 

I stood up, putting the tip of my cigarette in the snow. I made my way towards the nearest flower shop. Ice crunched beneath my feet as I walked, and the cold pierced my blue eyes. I could barely recognize myself in the shop window reflection. My dark black beanie and giant trench coat sat so baggy on my fit body. My skin was frozen, and no longer a dark shade of tan, but turning red and blue. I opened the door to the flower shop, and a slight breeze pushed me inside. 

“Welcome to roses, rose shop!” 

I took one look at a beautiful blood red bouquet and was reminded of the woman’s coat. 

“I’ll take that.” I said, slamming a fifty on the counter and pointing to the roses.

“Sir, that’s a fifty.. those roses cost ten.” 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” I said with a wink and a nod. 

After leaving the store with my prize, I strolled over to the subway knowing that’s exactly the direction the woman in red was headed. Most people say my observation skills are genius, but I just see things differently than everyone else. I can find anyone I want in a second, but it comes at a cost. The people I love most are terrified of me. The hollow wind of the subways speeding away made me afraid I had missed her, but just as I had given up looking around, I saw her. She was speed walking onto the train, gripping her Gucci bag tightly and eyeing people suspiciously. “Here I go..” I said, making my way into the same subway car. 

I carefully kept my gaze on her, wondering if she had noticed me yet. After a few stops, she hopped off and grabbed her cellphone, dialing a number and frantically making a call. “She knows I’m here.. but does she know my intent?” I think. Smiling to myself and fidgeting with the flower pedals. 

She jogged over to her building, fumbling for 

Her keys as I carefully watched in the shadows. Once she was inside, I lit another cigarette, and slid into her dimly lit dining room through an unlocked window. 

“I know! I shouldn’t have insulted his smoking, but I think he’s outside somewhere.. should I call the cops or something- god I.. I don’t know what to do!”

Her terrified voice rang through her house, and I could hear a man’s voice respond In drunk pieces. I found it amusing that she was still with this shitty, abusive man. 

I pulled out my pistol from my coat, roses still in hand, and I tiptoed over to where the voices were loudest. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger and shot the man in the head. The look of horror and disgust washed over the lady's face, and I felt satisfaction, knowing I had made the world a better place. Screams and crying filled the air, and blood coated everything. It matched her coat. Tears dripped down her face, and I didn’t feel one bit of pity. I shot her next and listened to the distant sirens only minutes away. I escaped out the back and slowly walked through an unknown alleyway, used to avoid the police. As I walked, the surrounding air got thicker and colder. I picked up any litter on the ground and tossed a homeless man a hundred-dollar bill. Every year I killed someone, making the world so much cleaner. It was a tradition, and I loved it almost as much as I loved my toxic cigarettes.