[ WP ] Samantha is the third person you 've replaced this week . It has to stop.. The guilt is breaking you , but you ca n't . You know what will happen if you do .

*Quick stab - did n't quite layer on the guilt or has to stop part but wanted to get something down* 
 
 At first, I only replaced bad people, people that deserved it, but it was quickly becoming obvious to me that my moral standards had become gradually more flexible. The first person I replaced was a local drug dealer named George - a real piece of shit that no one would miss, but commanded the kind of wealth and power that made him an attractive choice. Then, I had met a lawyer - Katie - an equally despicable excuse for a human who used her legal practice to ruin lives and line the pockets of her corporate overlords. I had walked into Katie's office expecting to sell her a kilogram of cocaine, but a glance around her office, so opulent and redolent with luxury and splendor, quickly convinced me that a more lucrative arrangement was in order. 
 
 Katie's leather arm chair was everything I had imagined it to be. Soft to the touch, and it conformed perfectly around my body as I spun it around until I was looking out the window and into the city below. Or at least that was how I remembered it being. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I replaced Katie. 
 
 After Katie, there was Bob. Then Sam. Then Jessica. Then I think Mark, and I enjoyed that for far longer than I anticipated. But after Mark came Rebecca. Or was it Elias? Maybe Thomas? 
 
 As the list of names grew, so did the lies I would tell myself to justify my decisions. I knew they were n't all bad - in fact, some were quite good, normal folk - but I always found a way to rationalize things. After a while, though, I did n't even bother trying. 
 
 Some were richer. Poorer. More beautiful or more homely. My favorite were those who commanded more authority and power than I could possibly imagine, but there was a certain charm about those who led simpler, more pedestrian lives. Variety is the spice of life, after all. 
 
 And then there was Samantha. Beautiful, young Samantha. She was was my intern. Or assistant. Secretary maybe? Either way, from the brief conversations I had with her in the hallway earlier this week, she was still in college. Junior year. She wanted to be a scientist of some sorts. 
 
 How long had it been since I replaced someone so young? Years perhaps. The mere thought was enough to curl the corner of my lip into an excited smile. What did college kids do these days? I leaned back in my chair, stroking my graying beard. I would have to ask Samantha before hand. 
 
 I reached across my desk and thumbed the button on my intercom. Beside the intercom, the smiling faces of my wife and two children looked back at me from behind the framed glass of the family portrait we had taken six months earlier. 
 
 I could n't for the life of me remember any of their names, and for a moment, a pang of guilt disrupted my giddy anticipation. Unlike many of the spouses and children I had possessed, these were actually of my own creation. How long had it been? The older of the two children - a boy - looked at least five. Why could n't I think of his name? Tommy? Samuel? 
 
 I shook my head violently, as if to shake out the thoughts polluting my happiness. The only name that mattered now was Samantha. 
 
 `` Samantha?'' I called out. 
 
 `` Yes, Mr. Jameson?'' Her voice was so cheery. So full of life and energy. I was going to enjoy this. 
 
 `` Would you please step into my office for a moment?'' 

