Squeak, Squoink, Squeak, Squoink reproach my shoes.
Although I’m moving slowly, even casually some might say...my mind is racing with thoughts of what just occurred. Am I feeling guilt? Freedom? Lust? I’m not exactly sure, but I like it. The feeling of wrapping my arms around someone in a dark alley is so dignifying. To feel the warmth of their body pressed against mine. The constant thrusting...
BAM!
A door slams.
Squee, Squaa, Squee, Squaa. My shoes quicken their pace.
I can’t get these feelings out of my head. I will have to do it again. The power I feel is like lightening energizing my very being and soul. The satisfaction I feel is relaxing... smooth... melodic.
Pat, pat pat... footsteps?
Squa, Squa, Squa... I have to hurry home. No one can find out what I’ve done.
I look into my eyes as I stare in the mirror. A deep satisfaction is glowing in them. I remove my gloves... I’ll have to go to the store tomorrow for some new ones. I toss them in the trash. I run my hands under the warm water coming from the faucet and watch as the water turns pink, slowly twirling its way down the drain.
I look back up at my face. The blue makeup around my lips is formed into a frown, but cannot disguise the grin I bare. I carefully remove my wig and place it on the mannequin head. I reach behind my head and carefully pull the elastic string up over my head removing my bright red nose. Giving it a quick squeeze... Honk! I giggle. The children love it so when I do that. I place it on the sink counter top.
I wet a wash cloth and slowly begin removing the paint from my face. I can’t believe I got away with it. I’ve wanted to do it for so long, but have not had the courage. But no one can find out. No... no one can find out that Binky is a killer.