I have been reluctant to confront Heather all week. Obviously. That shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. This woman was my secretary, and then my accomplice, and then my friend, and then my traitor. I had no idea what to say to her. If I’m being perfectly honest, part of me didn’t want to know if I was right about her.
I thought I’d
finally found someone who could be my friend. Not my lover, not a victim, not a
charge; just a friend. And she was that to me, except I can’t trust her
anymore. She became a liability the minute she answered the door for that woman.
A woman I
can’t find because Heather killed my only lead. I can’t trust that she did it to
protect me. Because what if she didn’t? What if she did it for herself – to keep
me from finding out worse things about her. Was her husband’s death an accident
or did she luck out and make friends with a serial killer?
I can’t ask
her anymore.
Heather’s
dead.
I didn’t
even do it.
Casey – my terrifying
angel – she got up from the table at Sunday breakfast, grabbed the still
sizzling frying pan and beat Heather to death with it. Right at the kitchen
table. Stabbed her neck into the table for good measure.
I thought I
would feel differently when I saw the life leave her eyes. She stared at me as
she died, her face so calm but twisted in pain. I think, at the end, she understood
why it was happening. I thought I’d feel worse about chopping her body into
pieces, cutting off her ears and burning her fingertips and lips. We turned her
burial into a family outing, visiting all the major parks in the area and
scattering bits of her body around.
One final
goodbye.
I expected
to feel bad.
I’m just
numb.
With a bit
of relief, I suppose. Towards the end she just became trouble for us. I wanted
to keep her safe because she was my friend. Now I’ll never know if I was hers.
Do you know
why Casey killed her?
She had
offered to make an apology breakfast for the family, and she burnt the eggs.
That was
all.
I guess
that was the final straw for her. After everything Heather did to us, she also
ruined breakfast. It was a petty reason to kill her but I don’t blame Casey. I
blame myself for letting Heather get so close. I’m not meant to have friends or
a proper family. I get to fall in love once and hold it close. I get to raise
children that aren’t mine and watch them leave me. But I don’t get to have
relationships that keep me sane. I don’t get to trust.
Eventually,
even the ones you love will betray you.
They’ll
expose you to danger to protect their own self-interest and leave you
vulnerable, then take away your one chance to stop it.
And then
they’ll died and leave you alone with no fucking idea what to do next.
I thought I
wouldn’t cry over her death.
I was wrong
about a lot of things.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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