I read people so well, I know their emotions before they even do. Those who are happy are whom I choose to spend my time with. There is one woman, she is there, yet she isn't. She seems to smile at all of the right times, she seems to laugh at jokes, she seems sad when something terrible happens; yet, she just isn't there. She doesn't have those feelings and I know it is all fake. Our group is small, she spends every day with us, she does what we do, follows the latest trends, she doesn't miss a beat.
From time to time, she is gone. Our group assumes there is a secret lover, just someone she doesn't want us to meet. The group doesn't pester, but they do tease about the secret lover. Then, she is gone again.
After a night away from the group, I come home and look in the mirror. Blood covering my face and clothes. I look in the mirror and I see her. The woman, the one who has no emotions. The woman who fakes it every day with her group. I see the woman I am looking back at me after yet another ruthless kill.