Sunday, October 20, 2013

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 15

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**


10/20/13   2:15 PM

      My “date” with Natalie was an epic disaster.  All that excitement, fantasizing, and wishful thinking was in vain.  Huge mistake!  She was never interested in me and I was a fool to think otherwise. 
      At the end of our shift she was giddy and chattering away.  She convinced me to ride with her to the party-mistake number two.  She was introducing me around and it all seemed to be going great.  She was laughing at my jokes we made fun of some of our coworkers and bonded over some drinks.  All of the sudden, she gets a text and says, “Oh darn, Brian is running late.”  Before I can even ask who Brian is, a hulking steroidal freak comes up behind her and lifts Natalie into the air, twirling her around.  Next thing I know, she’s playing tonsil hockey with the walking muscles.  I stood there, stunned trying to figure out what happened.  When she’s finally on the floor again she introduces me to her boyfriend, Jeremy or Jackass or something.  As it turns out, my date was running late.  Yeah, you guessed it-her cousin, Brian.  She thinks I’m GAY!!!  I tried to tell her I’m not gay and she says to me, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s okay to be gay.” To which her douchebag boyfriend made a crude, homophobic remark.  I ignored him for the moment to tell her that if I was-and I stressed was- gay, I wouldn’t be ashamed but I am absolutely not gay.  I tell her I appreciate the thought but I’m going to go home.  That’s when I realize that I have no car.  I was so devastated, I was ready to walk back home.  Natalie started crying, apologizing and insists that Jackass drive me back to the restaurant.  So he’s driving, she’s in the front seat next to him and I’m in the backseat, wishing I was dead.  The tires barely hit the parking lot and I dashed out of the car and sprint to my car.  Next thing I know, Natalie is running behind me, bawling.  She hugged me and begged me to forgive her.  Damn, she felt so good in my arms.  I didn’t want to let go.  She pecked my cheek and apologized again.  I couldn’t help it. I told her not to worry about it.  I’m such a sucker where she’s concerned.  I can still smell her perfume on my shirt.  I’m tempted to never wash it again. 
      Now, here’s where I find redemption.  As I was pulling out, I notice they’re both standing outside the car, arguing.  I can see that she’s upset and he’s screaming at her.  Then he signed his own death certificate.  He slapped her.  I followed them from a distance.  Natalie never went back into the party.  She immediately jumped in her car and drove home.  I wanted to follow her, console her, make love to her, but she was too upset.  Besides, Jackass needed my attention more than she did.  When the vile pig finally staggered out from the party he had a trashy blonde bimbo climbing all over him.  He might have nailed her right there on the hood of his car but I’m not positive.  First he hits Natalie, then he cheats on her…yeah this jerk needs to die.  I followed him and his new slut to someone’s apartment.  They were going at it again the whole way to their room.  I listened in the hallway-they never bothered to lock the door.  Why are people so stupid?  I waited a while, until the grunting and “Oh yeah, baby” shouts ended.  Then there was silence.  I tiptoed inside.  They were sprawled out on the bed-naked but what really caught my attention was the sleek rubber tubing next to a lit candle, a torched spoon and a syringe.  He’s a junkie.  I don’t have to worry at all.  They’re out cold and there’s enough junk there to make sure he never wakes up.  I load another syringe and inject, then another and another and another.  Finally he convulses and I know he’s gone.  As I drove home, I look down at my leather driving gloves and smile.  The best twenty bucks I’d ever spent.  Again, no prints-not that anyone is going to check on a junkie overdose. 
      I’m glad I have today off.  I am exhausted but who knows…maybe after an appropriate grieving time Natalie will give me another shot.  

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