The Breakdown

 

New Year’s was great, but it was a turning point. That turn brought me back to my former ways; the life of a killer, the mentality of a murderous beast. I was a monster again after that morning. I woke up sometime well after noon, slightly hung over from the couple glasses of champagne I’d consumed. Thank you Skull’s mom! I groaned and rolled over. Bunny was sprawled out on the sleeping bag next to me, and, beyond him, Skull. Crimson had woken me up when she dragged to the bathroom to empty her own system.

I thought back over midnight; the four-way cheek kisses, the champagne, the cake, watching the ball drop, and the struggle to hide my thoughts through my slight inebriation. Bunny, still asleep beside me, had no hidden feelings; he was a loud and emotional drunk. This made it ever so difficult for me to be around him, as it never had before. I tossed around ideas about my urges, thinking that maybe they were meant to be. Maybe I was just meant to be this way, like people can’t help being gay or straight. Rather than attributing my problems to addictive behavior, like I’d done when I compared it to Crimson’s eating problems, I thought about them as an irreversible personality trait.

I heard Crimson settle, finally, into dry heaves, which sounded like huge hiccups and muffled sobs. I ran to her aid while the others continued to sleep. She cried. “It’s ok. Lots of people throw up after drinking. It’s not the problems coming back.”

She cried harder, thanking me in not so many words, but in blurred syllables and salty tears.

I would do anything to protect my friends, and I had. Killing Nikki had saved them humiliation, torment and all other kinds of unnecessary s**t.

That morning, I resolved to kill again, and soon. Abstaining wasn’t worth the risk of being unprepared. I’d seen potential victims over the past few weeks. What was bad enough to deserve a death via Blair?

I sorted through scenarios. Cutting in line or being generically rude didn’t count. Stealing and being violent were acts deserving of my wrath. Maybe I would pick off the members of a gang, but I didn’t know much of their world. It would benefit many, though, and I could probably make it appear that rival gang members had done it.

The next evening, the bus turned into the part of town I knew well; the part no one went to like I was doing now. A park with rusted over play structures and a rancid lake stared back at me. My disguise was almost perfect. Along with my usual oversized sweatshirt, jeans and rubber boots, I’d added a scarf to cover most of my face. The ski mask was in my jeans pocket, along with two cheap knives, a lighter and a small bottle of bleach. I wasn’t planning to kill that night, but I was prepared.

My college fund was disappearing as I paid for the precautions that came along with these outings. Bleach, lighters, gloves, masks, sweatshirts, jeans, boots, knives, etc. After this idea was fulfilled at least once, I’d go back to animals. I figured if I was going to break down and quit being good, I might as well make it count at least once.

It didn’t take very long for the sun to go down and for the light under which I sat to turn on. I sat quite still, fiddling with a broken cell phone I’d found in a dumpster. A jogger finished his last lap around the running trail nearby and headed towards me. I tensed, knowing his kind would mess my plans up completely.

S**t. I thought, as he noticed I was female, and worry began to color his movements.

Reviews

[Brie]

More suspense at the end! What's going to happen?! On to the next chapter!
-Brie