I had my first kill since Daniel. Well, my first two, actually. On Sunday I was picking
up some bread from the local convenience store at some ungodly hour – because I
forgot to pick some up earlier when some bitch swerved into my spot without any
signal or indication that she was turning. Naturally I was pissed off. With
clenched fists I kindly asked the woman to signal next time or wait her god
damn turn. She flipped me off so I slammed her head into the brick wall. A few
kicks to the skull and she was dead. I felt such a sense of relief wash over me
that I didn’t think when I saw they figure approach me, I just pounced.
Well, pounced might not have been the right word.
Apparently the bitch’s brother was sitting in the passenger
seat and saw the whole thing. He circled me like I was some caged animal
instead of the refined woman that I obviously am. So instead of attacking him –
because obviously I’d win – I took a breath and started panicking. I stared at
the man, frightened out of my mind, apologizing profusely, unsure what exactly came
over me, begging him not to call the police – maybe she was just unconscious.
He refused in a loud, shaky voice like the man could move mountains but his
heart was broken. I think that’s the best way to describe him: A large, boisterous
man who was visibly moved by the idea of his sister’s death. He explained his
situation (re: “I was sitting in the passenger seat and saw you attack my
sister”). That’s when I started crying. A sure-fire way to make a man bring
down his guard is to cry. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it would work but just like
that, he was rushing toward me in an attempt to startle me into stopping. He
told me I was crazy so as he turned to call the police, I tripped him and
slammed his head into the pavement. Over . And over. And over again.
I hate getting blood or dirt on myself but I’ll make an
exception for some. Like the ones who call me crazy while I have their life in
my hands. Idiots.
So I killed the brother and sister, picked up some bread,
and went home. Overall a very productive half hour. But as I was lying in bed
that night , I kept thinking about that goliath of a man, so distraught over
the death of his sister that it cost him his life. Would that happen to Jason?
I spent the next few hours sort of obsessing over Jason and his relationship
with Sandra.
Yes, that’s the first time I’ve written her name since her
death. It’s time.
I wondered what Jason thought of his sister? Did he love
her? Was it some obligatory affection that comes with sharing blood or were
they genuine friends, bonded over loss. I thought about asking him but the fear
of shutting him out at the mention of his sister was too great to risk
anything. Again.
Man, that kid terrifies me sometimes.
In other, unrelated news: Heather’s husband found out about
the affair. I have no idea how. She just walked into my office this morning and
announced that she needed Friday off because her husband found out she had been
cheating on him for the past two years…
And he wants to join.
What the fuck?
I have no words, absolutely no words.
But that sort of thing doesn’t really appeal to me. I mean,
we’ve talked about threesomes and other sexual positions but if he ever cheated
on me, that’d be it.
Not that he ever would; loyal as a bulldog, that one.
Despite any resentment he may still harbor towards me. We had an exhaustingly
long talk over the weekend – before the forgotten bread.
We talked about Sandra and the technicalities of losing a
child – we were both too exhausted to discuss the emotional impact.
We talked about Jason and his lack of communication and
therefore our lack of knowledge on how to deal with him.
We talked about Daniel and my mishandling of the situation
last year – he’s adamant that I had some romantic feelings for Daniel and
nothing I did convinced him otherwise.
We talked about our relationship, where we’ve found ourselves
from the last few months; we stopped talking about where we’re headed.
We talked about me and my selfish actions, virtually
destroying our family unit.
He’s staying with friends for a bit.
He thinks separation may be good for us.
Yeah, I don’t believe that either.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
No comments:
Post a Comment