After several attempts, I now stood wist of the fact that the mirror was incapable of showing my reflection. It is not that I couldn’t see my reflection; for my eyes were not built to see my reflection yet the mirror’s sole purpose for existence is to show reflections. Whether blind or not, unto everyone the mirror is expected to diligently project back to anyone before it an image -reflection. The absence of my reflection from a mirror stood not as the lone anomaly! It did become difficult to navigate the streets in the brightness of the day as I would be consumed whole in the breaking of my body; even dividing one cell from itself. If anything had happened – then my nature had changed.
As a true witness to the existence of a bingy within me, a hunger struck. There was a need to feed, the only challenge was that I couldn’t leave my apartment during the day. Involuntarily, I had to allow my stomach to enjoy itself as a delicacy whilst awaiting the dusk. The beauty of time is that no matter how slow – though forever constant – the seconds mature into minutes which blossoms into hours that in the end land you at a time that forced you to discover and cultivate patience.
I then walk out of my apartment heading to the stores. If anything had happened – my nature had changed. The appetite I held was now towards humans and their blood. It then goes without saying that the hunting began immediately. The hunts were successful; I even developed a schedule for it. What was interesting to me, was the local media started reporting my hunts in the same light as they would a serial killer’s story. This was a misrepresentation of my means of my survival. I mean, did they actually want me to die?
One day in the hunting process, I get hold of a meal. There was something a miss though. It was different from the rest. It did feel like it was lacking in nutrients . It was, however, the best I had ever tasted. Yet at this point, it wouldn’t satisfy me. Instead of leaving this meal to go to waste, I decided to rush it to the hospital. They run tests on him and he was found to be anaemic. That indeed served as an explanation as to why some nutrients were lacking.
The doctor on duty recommended some medicine and a diet that my meal – the doctor’s patient – should observe if the nutrients have to be supplied to his body. My meal lay there unconscious, so all these instructions the doctor was giving was directed to me. As we were speaking, the doctor received a call from the security desk whose purpose was to inquire just to whom the doctor was speaking to. Apparently, the cameras could not pick my image. If anything had happened – then my nature had changed. This to me was a blessing in disguise.
Knowing that unless someone is in my presence I cannot be seen by them, I headed straight to the hospital’s pharmacy, found the pharmacist alone and decided to turn him into a meal as well. Following that, I grabbed all the medication that the doctor had recommended for my meal. I then went back to where my meal lay. I picked him from his bed, left the hospital and took him to my apartment. I then raided grocery stores that night to get all the recommended fruits and vegetables. When my meal gained consciousness, I explained that I had found him unconscious and that I found it in my new nature to be a good Samaritan.
I gave him the drugs, fruits and vegetables but made him my hostage. I fed him for weeks. Each day I would taste to see if my meal’s blood was rich enough for my liking. When finally it was, I decided to own and honor the wrongly attached tittle to what I did – serial killing- so I turned this man from my meal to my victim. Didn’t I help the man be healthy though?
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