Sunshine and the Sociopath

I'm not quite right in the head. Luckily, my flavor of wrong means I don’t care. If I bothered to go to a therapist, they’d tell me I’m a sociopath, right before they tried to “fix” my more destructive urges.

I have my own way of dealing, thanks. My favorite is breaking into people’s homes when they’re off doing whatever it is boring people do. Not to steal from them—jail sounds so annoying. No, I just like the thrill.

But one day, I get my timing wrong and end up hiding under my latest victim’s bed while she bumbles around her kitchen. She’s so weird, rambling out loud to her empty apartment about her day, and I can’t wait to escape…except I kind of like listening to her.

When I catch a glimpse of her face, I really like how she looks.

And now I can’t stay away.