Chapter Two
Most girls your age have a flurry of social media accounts for droning on about their shallow, frivolous lives, but you don’t, do you Paige? I searched for them, on every platform I could find, but the only one that came up was your Instagram. I was so excited to see that you’d set it to public, even though you really should keep things like this private.
I scrolled back through the pictures of you at university, even back far enough to see the last two years of you at secondary school. Countless images showcasing your beauty, Paige. That golden hair, those clear blue eyes, and that smooth perfect skin. That delicious body.
I loved that you don’t wear tons of makeup. The friends that stand next to you in your pictures are weighed down with it, but then they don’t have the same natural glow as you do. They look like plastic dolls, with their plastic nails and their fake lashes, but not you. No, your beauty is real, and you don’t even realise it. Your poses are natural, simple, almost shy, next to your girlfriends shameless posturing.
You’re heaven Paige. Pure heaven.
My heartrate quickened as I scrolled through image after image, unable to believe that someone as perfect as you exists. I screenshotted each one, cropping out the other faces. A rose surrounded by thorns.
Every night before bed, I scrolled back through. I loved that your face was the last thing I saw before I went to sleep. I laid there imagining the sound of your voice, your smile. What you smelled like. What your touch would feel like. How I’d make you scream.