How Wrong Is This?

Another day, another crime scene. Already dead this time. Girl. About my age. Not too messy a death. Strangled. Rope in my hands, of course. He must do this on purpose. Trying to make me feel guilty. But it's all Him. Not even murder by omission here. These people would die anyway if He wants them dead. And the people I care about won't.

Was in her apartment, too. That's noteworthy. Tough decision to make. Plenty of useful stuff. Clothes nearly my size. Her laptop. She wouldn't need them. Didn't take those. Only took some food. Couldn't help myself.

Here's where I feel guilty. This was my choice. Bad choice. Shouldn't have taken anything. I know. Stealing from the dead is disgusting. Even if it would've just gone bad. Don't know why I'm justifying it to you. There are no good people. On this side, bad deeds are expected.

Also expected: wacky coincidences. Same name as somebody I knew. Not the same person. Just same name. If there's a lesson in this, it's the world is really small. Or this country is. Nearly identical cities and similar people.

Back to the point. Breakfast with a corpse. Only not really. Half wall between us and I faced away from her. Still sounds messed up. Was messed up. Wish I weren't me so I could scold me. Only when I'm not me, He takes over and I just don't exist.

Again, not what I want to write about. Left after eating. No point calling the cops. They do their job well and they'd find me. Then He'd get rid of them. No gain. Hopefully they find her before things get too gross. But after I'm far from here.

There was something else I meant to say. Forgot it. Hate when that happens. If it comes back, I'll edit it in next time I have a computer.

Edit: Was just going to complain about timezones. Too early over here in mountain time.