I swear if I could have gotten married to that girl I would have. Look at her--

A drawing of "Rosalyn", it's a rifle with gold accents and flower engravings climbing from handle to barrel.

What a beauty, what a woman. I met her at the thrift store, looking all alone and she was such a pretty little thing that I couldn't help go up to her. I asked her for her number but there wasn't even a price tag. Guy at the front desk gave her to me for free because of how banged up she was but if they knew, they would've regretted giving her to me. She fires shots at the speed of a motherfucker and shreds everything she goes through. Gods I love her, I've been practicing my shots with her and she's deadly. What a women you are Rosalyn. Sigh.

On another note! I also did some sneaky sneaky practice after the last time! Did not know it would be one of the skills I would need in the future but good jolly is that helpful. These contracts and much more dangerous than I had thought, but then again, no risk no reward right? I'll be practicing my shots more, lets hope I don't die the next time.

With the gift I got from this job I finally could get the girl I was saving up for, a horse!

I cannot express how much I fucking love horses! They're such trusted and loyal friends, they have existed in human history for centuries, they are so dumb but also so smart, they can sleep standing up, they can't breathe through their mouth, their biology allows them to be super good mounts too and so much more! Mabel herself is a gem of a horse, she's a smart lass and seems to be able to understand what I'm saying with more intellect than the average horse!

In high school there was a faction of wolves and horses. I was, of course, a part of the horse faction because why else would you pick anything else? Wolves aren't even good mounts if you could theatrically be able to ride one and not crush em. They don't have the stableness of a horse. They would just buck you off which isn't a good mount. They're not even that cool.

Anyway, I've been letting Mabel roam around in my apartment. I've been using some of my paycheck at my new job for some horse food and toys for her. She seems to enjoy them very much and good gods I cannot describe how much I love her. My heart feels like its ripping from my chest. She's so nice and well mannered too, a true lady. I've only gotten three complaints about the click clacking this month! Whoever said dog is man's best friend is wrong, horses are.

A drawing of Mabel Meadow, a brown horse with beads intertwined in her hair. Her eyes seem to have been anime-ifyed.

What’s the worth of a single life?

Y’know, when people said I was fucked in the head I thought it was playground bullying. I was a strange kid, liked horses and cowboys too much, was fixated on things so strongly that it became my everything, was super particular about certain things, stuff like that. I never did it maliciously but then again, I never thought so. I just lacked the social sense other kids had my age; still do. Regardless of how much my mother tried to beat social skills into my head, it never quite stuck. I was just that weird black kid; fuckin’ made me stick out like a sore thumb in my white homogenous hometown. Didn’t need anymore reasons for them to call me a freak.

I've been thinking about this past year, reminiscing I guess. I’ve killed people, I’ve suggested it and I’ve gone through with it. I’ve shot people without doubt and my hands never shook from hesitation, only recoil. And maybe they were right, there is something knocked loose in my head. I try to bring up feelings of guilt, empathy, remorse, or even anger about my actions, but nothing. I don’t feel anything when I think back on this, I think I might’ve a long time ago but that’s not now and perhaps it never was then. Maybe I was born a little fucked up.

So, what’s the worth of a single life? I guess not much. People die so easily, in the end, we’ll all cease the same way. As bags of meat and piles of bones. Everyone is equally meaningless in death, rich or poor, white or black.

I don’t feel any regret for killing them. I thought I would’ve felt something.

...

Gods, these contracts will seriously be the bane of me. Look at me getting all philosophical and reflective, sigh. I really need to go out some time, maybe get a drink to take my mind off this. There's no point in wallowing.