Confessions of a Killer

I stare at her. Her beautiful green eyes, her lustrous, flowing raven hair. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I really tried. But I couldn’t help it. And now the light that sparkled in her eyes has disappeared, gone like leaves before the wind. Her lifeless body lies on a blue tarp, waiting to be wrapped and buried, like so many before her. I wish I could stop. I really do. I would kill myself, but I can’t bring myself to do so. I, who has taken so many lives, cannot take my own. The irony is sickening.

            I return my focus to the crude hole I dug. I roll her up and push the body in. One of her delicate hands falls out of the tarp and lies there, startling white in the darkened night. I sigh, and start to shovel in the dirt.

            Within minutes, the hole is filled and covered with stray leaves and twigs. I dread the thought of school tomorrow, but look forward to my date with Emily. Sweet, kind, seductive Emily. I don’t want to kill her. I really don’t. I hope I don’t.

            I did a quick survey of the land, checking to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I didn’t. I never do. Only the foolish do. And I am not a fool.

            I throw the shovel into the back of my rusty red pickup truck.  I get into the cab and start the ignition. I turn the radio on and listen to the melancholy lyrics of Whiskey Lullaby.

            I drive and think. I think about all the lives I took before tonight. Jack. Rose. Penelope. Lucas.  And finally Lucy. I do not discriminate on gender. Life is too short to be confined to one gender. Love is blind. And I most definitely blindsided them all. I don’t want to hurt Emily. I really don’t. But…I fear I will. I know I will.

            I pull into my driveway and turn off the truck. The lights are off, but I don’t mind. I live alone and prefer the dark. I enter the house and walk to my bedroom. Exhausted, I fall onto my bed and fall asleep immediately.

            I am already up and ready by the time my alarm goes off. I turn it off and pace around my room. I leave for school at 7:30 sharp and get there before the final bell. I have four out of seven classes with Emily. During the first class, I admire her silky, curly blonde hair. During the second, I look for flaws in her gorgeous trim figure, but I am not fooled. Underneath that smooth skin and gorgeous figure is muscle hardened by years of track and field. By the time the bell rings, I still haven’t found any flaws.

            The next three classes drag on, the seconds like minutes and the minutes like hours. The final two periods fly by as I admire Emily and think about what it would be feel like to squeeze the life-giving air out of her lungs. I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t.

            The last bell rings and we walk to my truck, laughing and smiling the whole way. She is so nice and beautiful. I don’t want to hurt her, I really don’t. We go to an early movie, then to dinner. The sun has set and the pale heiress of the night climbs into the star-studded sky as we drive to the local lovers’ lane, high on a cliff overlooking the turbulent sea.

            I turn off the car and we sit on a blanket near the cliff edge in the warm, early-summer air. Her long hair is silver in the moonlight and I feel the familiar primal urge to kill. I force it away as she laughs at some joke I tell her.

            Her light blue eyes find mine and I can’t resist any longer. I wrap my hands around her pale neck. Fear dances in her eyes as I start to squeeze. Her hands claw at mine before punching me in the gut.

            Surprised, I let go and she runs for my truck. I yank her back by her long, gorgeous hair and she stumbles towards the cliff edge. She falls and hits her head before closing her eyes. I don’t want to hurt Emily. I really don’t.

            I walk slowly towards her unmoving form. I am only a few steps away when her eyes fly open and she pulls me to the ground. She wrestles me closer to the cliff edge and tries to pin me down. I shove her off of me and pin her down, dangerously close to the rocky edge. Her eyes find mine again and fear dances with hatred in her lovely aquamarine eyes. Please don’t look at me like that Emily. I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t. Emily, why won’t you believe me?

            I wrap my hands around her neck again and squeeze tighter than before. Her mouth opens in a futile attempt to scream or plead. Either way, I don’t really care. The light in her eyes dim slowly as her muscles relax. I start to relax also, but keep the pressure around her neck tight. Suddenly, I am flying through the air, straight over the cliff edge. I’m not quite sure what happened. I twist till I am looking up the cliff and staring her straight in the eyes.

            She has a horrified expression on her face but I smile as the wind rushes past me. Death has finally come for me. Now I know I shall never again take a life. Thank you, Emily. Thank you for waking me from the nightmare I call my life. I laugh as my form is dashed upon the ocean and instantly swallowed by the ravenous beast.

Reviews

[Maglia Weaver Twill]

Wow, that is an amazing story. If that is not surrealism albeit in a pressured format I don't know what is, in a world of possible outcomes here we go again, the little marionettes flying without pain through the air into the mouth of a "ravenous beast"

[K. Payne]

I like this point of view where you're not exactly sure whether to empathize for the narrator or just wish he were dead. Great repetitive sentences like "I don't want to hurt Emily. I really don't." You can sense his urge to resist, but ultimately failing. Great short story!

[Luke Herbert]

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! This was honestly one of my favorite pieces to write. :)