I Don’t Care


People call me names behind my back and think I can’t hear them. They stare at me as I pass by. They wonder if I am as creepy as I look. They ask themselves what they would do if we ever met face to face in a dark alley. Let them wonder. Some of them already know.

I don’t care.

When we meet in a dark alley they think “This can’t be happening! Not to me!”  So they panic. They struggle. They put up a fight. The drug does its work and soon all that stops. When I get them home and onto the table the crying begins.

I don’t care.

They lay there and beg me to spare them. They tell me about their families, their loved ones. Sometimes I even hear about their pets. I get promised things. Money. Jewels. One person offered to exchange himself for someone else. But I never really listen.

I don’t care.

I used to have a preference. I liked women. Short ones. Skinny. Blonde. But now I like everyone. Male, female. Tall, short. Any hair color. Any weight. Any age. Anyone.

I don’t care.

Someone got loose once. I wasn’t being careful and they hit me with an instrument tray. They didn’t get very far. I’m very secluded out here. Chasing them down was a nuisance. I made some changes to the lab. Now they can try to run all they like.

I don’t care.

As I work the air is filled with screams. Sometimes so loud that I have to wear earplugs. But they always get weaker and weaker. Eventually everyone stops screaming. That’s when I know I need a new specimen.

I don’t care.

Because there’s a never ending supply – of you.


Note: Every week we can choose from four topics to write about. This week one of the topics was “I Don’t Care” and I chose that for inspiration.

Your comments and creative criticism are more than welcome


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