I Wanted To Murder My Cheating Boyfriend, But I Did Something Much More Disturbing

I should’ve turned down the offer, but part of me thought that she must’ve been selling weed on the side, so I followed her behind the counter and into a stuffy backroom that barely held the two of us.

To my disappointment, all I saw were rows upon rows of makeup. They looked like any other aisle in the store, except each product came in a shimmering gold or silver container.

The woman, who I could now see had a dream catcher tattoo behind her ear, grabbed a bottle and uncapped it for me. “Put it on your wound,” she said. “Make sure it covers well.”

I was about to ask her how she knew the makeup wasn’t meant for my face, but then I realized I was in short sleeves, my cuts on full display. So I put on the concealer. As soon as I rubbed it across my skin, the cuts seemed to vanish. No. No, they actually did vanish. Was that even…?

I spit on my hand and used the saliva to wipe the concealer away, but all I saw was skin. Healthy, clear, unscarred skin. The fucking cuts had been healed.

Before the questions could come pouring out of my mouth, the woman asked me one. “You’re with a cheater?”

“Huh? I mean… No. No, I don’t think he’s done anything yet. He’s just been flirting with this girl. He’d fuck her if she let him, probably. I don’t know. It’s not like it matters. She’s just leading him on, so…” I shrugged.

“A cheater’s a cheater, no matter what shade.” She placed the glittering container back on the shelf and fished for another one. “That concealer was a sample. A free sample. But I’m willing to sell you something else that’ll help you if you’re interested. Something for that boyfriend of yours.”

I switched my weight from my left leg to my right. Neither position felt comfortable. “What’ll it do?”

“What do you want it to do?”

I didn’t know what the hell I was dealing with. A modern-day witch? A magician? A chemist? A con artist? I could’ve spent hours questioning her backstory, but there was no way in hell she’d give me the information I wanted. But for some reason, something inside of me still trusted her.

So I bought one of every item she had.


More From Thought Catalog