A Thirst To Kill

“Skinny Vanilla Latte’.”

“What size?” The barista patiently waited for me to reply.

“Tall.”

“What is your name?”

My name? I thought for a moment.  I could give them my real name, or I could go with something a little more exotic then Samantha. Plus I don’t want my name tied to a possible blood bath.

“Lexus.” I smiled and walked away, waiting for that hot cup of pick me up.

I sat down and started to survey the room. I was to choose my next victim from this ses pool of people? I really wish I could go somewhere with more to pick from, it looks like a redneck convention was let out, but I cant be picky I have to stay as low key as possible I was almost caught last time.

There were a few tables with chairs that littered the corner of the coffee shop, a few lounge chairs and an oversized green couch that took up one wall.

The first person I noticed was an older man in a tie-dye shirt, he had one of those aussie style hats you know the ones with the string that goes under the chin, the corners were bent down. His old brown slip on sandals made me laugh. On his left wrist he wore a black leather watch, that’s when I noticed that shiny bit of silver on his ring finger. Blah, married.  I’ll pass.

Behind him and to the left was a heavyset woman; she had short 50 style bangs. She was one of those women who do not own a mirror.  She had blue fingernail polish dark rimmed glasses, and large disk hoop earrings. She wore a spaghetti strap white dingy shirt with no bra, which I am 100 percent sure she needed, she had a short flower skirt to match.  To top off her mess of a look she wore blue converse shoes. She was prime pick if it wasn’t for the sandwich she was shoving in her face, which would not have been bad but a bit of the cheese lingered on her lip which was not appealing to me at all. She reminded me of a pig eating slop.

I turned sideways in my seat and noticed two older women sipping on there cold iced tea. Once mentioned something about a train in a book she had picked up. The woman on the right was sporting a purple shirt; she was rather large and had on these tight black shorts.  She wore white running shoes and her hair was a dirty blonde, her friend was dressed in a black shirt, she was large but not as large as the first, she had on what my grandma use to call pedal pusher jeans, black clog flip flops, he hair seemed to be more maintained then the other woman’s it was a dark brown with a hint of blonde and red streaks through it. One smack with a hammer to the back of the head, and her boring train story would be over. I think everyone in here would thank me.

Out of the corner of my eye, closer to the counter on the couch was a small child that looked to be watching a movie on her mothers laptop, she had dirty blonde hair was wearing a white shirt with cut of jean shorts and white runners. Her mother was sipping coffee and was pouring over a stack of books in front of her.  If I got pleasure out of killing children I would have to say she would be prime target she was not being watched and the mom was oblivious to anyone around her.

Before I finished surveying the room she walked in.

She wore a long black dress that snuggly fit her body, black flip-flops, large black glasses that hid her brown eyes. Long bleach blonde hair that was dyed black underneath.  Her hips swayed as she made her way to the counter.  She was the one the one I wanted. The one I needed to carry out my plan, this dark part of me that screamed and clawed inside of me begging to be released.  My eyes followed her as she rounded the corner and made her way into the three-stalled bathroom.  I slowly got up and grabbed my bag hoping that no one was watching me as intently as I was watching them.

I slowly pushed my the bathroom door open with my foot keeping my eye on the people to see if anyone else was to get up and follow us into my work station.  As I turned the door slowly closed behind me I reached over and grabbed a brown wedge and shoved it under the door.

There she was standing in from of the mirror admiring herself, she better take it all in, because in a few moments those eyes will no longer be full of life. I pulled out a white cloth from my bag and walked up behind her, and quickly placed it over her mouth and nose. I took the knife I carried in my pocket and slowly eased it into her left side.  I could smell the iron from her blood dance across my nose, taunting me with more of what was to come.  The warm blood trickled down my hand it splattered onto the ground.

She went limp; I layed her down and watched her chest move up and down. I lowered my head onto her breasts I could hear her heart beating as if daring me to make it stop.

I reached over and grabbed my black bag, my heart started to race.  The demon inside of me was being fed, and man did he have thirsts.

 I stopped for only a moment to study her, to take in everything I could about my kill.  Her face was oval, she had a small upturned nose, and her eyes were honey brown, long, full, black eyelashes layed tranquilly on her cheeks. She was slender, on the verge of too skinny.

I grinned and went back to digging in my bag; I pulled out a pair of black gloves, the slipped right on, using the blood from my hands as lubricant. I grabbed the knife I used earlier, and slowly started to push it into the right side of her chest.  Now with every breath bubbles escaped the wound.  The hot liquid of life pooled out of her.  I eased the knife out of her chest. 

The demon was getting excited as death was near.  I could feel the hotness of my own blood rush through my veins. It was like liquid fire that made my black heart pump wrathfully. 

I got up and straddled her, one knee on either side of her body, her breath was far and few between, I placed my ear to her mouth, I want to take in her last ticks of life, to feel her hot breath against my skin as she nourished my demon.

  With my ear closely pressed against her red full lips, a small whisper escaped her it rang through my ear, Tall Skinny Vanilla Latte’, astonished I leapt from her lifeless body.

Then again with more force, I heard. “Tall, Skinny Vanilla Late for Lexus’” My mind suddenly snapped back to reality, I got up out of my chair to retrieve my hot cup of pick me up!

destruction

She makes her way through the sea of people, sucking them in one by one.  She is more powerful then a hurricane  more powerful then any tornado, because she strategically cuts her path.

Her rage is like a burn, it comes at you with fierce power, it goes deep.  She doesn't stop she just keeps going. She will destroy you if you are not strong enough.

She cries every night, tears of blood stain her face and clothes.  She does not cry for the people she has hurt, but herself. Not because she feels bad, she has no remorse for what she does or has done.

She cries for the emptiness that now engulfs her.  The loneliness of the night that has taken hold, but she has a glimmer of hope,  knowing that tomorrow will come and her destruction will continue and she will destroy the human lives with more force then the day before.

She is deadly to your soul, she doesn't care you cry. She has no empathy for the weak. She is nothing but destruction.

my taboo baby

I walk into the supermarket and nervously dart to the condom section, peering around every corner trying to see if anyone is watching me.  I am young, nervous, and scared, my eyes dart from side to side trying to search for that little box, that life changing box, the one that will determine my fate. I find it, under the condoms and personal lubricants. It peers at me like judging eyes. I quickly snatch it and tuck it safely under my arm.

I pick up pace and quickly make my way to the check out, where i start praying i will find a female cashier.  My mind races with the thought of what will the results of this little box reveal? I choose my cashier slowly, knowing the older lady will peer at me and sneer at what i am bringing to her, the other younger cashier will understand but as i lay the box in front of her, i get that all knowing look the one i know if this box says yes i will have to live with for the rest of my young life. I collect my bag and bolt out the door.  I run to my b.f's car hopping in and slamming the door.  He drives off knowing in a matter of minutes we will find out if our life is forever altered.

I get out of the car and make my way to the house trying to walk slow enough so it does not look like i am on a mission.  I stumble past my parents and finally to the bathroom.  I shut the door and peer at the girl in the mirror.  You can do this, just open the box. I look down at the pink box i hold tightly in my hands as tears start to roll down my face.  I rip it open and the instructions fall out on the floor.  I pick them up unfold the paper, and begin to read how to preform this task i have in front of me.  

I walk to the toilet sit down and begin the journey.  I place the test on the back of the toilet and walk back to the mirror.  I turn on the water wash my hands, and throw water on my face.  Wake up damn you, you did this to yourself.  What seems like hours were only minutes.  I walk back to the toilet and peer down at the tiny white stick that was peering at me on the back of the toilet.  Pink plus, i grab the paper only to rip it in desperation. Pink plus = positive.  I am pregnant.  I carry a life within me.

I fall to the ground holding my abdomen, thoughts rush through my mind. The option creeps into my mind, but i tuck it slowly away in the dark corners of my 15 year old mind. I walk out and he is standing there, the father of our child, the man who gave me the other half to this life i now need to look after. 

I sit in my room day after day knowing i am now the host to this tiny being in my womb.  This being who i will one day hold in my arms.  I smile knowing i will have someone who will love me no matter what, someone i will get to take care of and show the love my parents so selfishly deprived me of.

The call comes, my school wants to do what, they dare challenge me on this.  I am more scared now then when i plucked that pink box off that shelf. Only one thing i can think of, one simple solution i can think of to keep this from  happening.  I can not and will not do this on my own. That thought i tucked away 12 weeks ago now screams at me.  I must, i have to.  It is done.

I now sit in my room day after day, feeling my abdomen where a life ONCE was, that tiny heartbeat, knowing i will never hold my baby in my arms, never feel the warmth of its skin on mine.  Never to see their eyes open and peer into my soul. Never to feel the tiny hands wrap around my finger. Never to hear the I love you mommy, i so desperately wanted to hear. What if, what if.  I can't let that take hold of me.  I need to be strong for her.  Yes her, i felt the bond, the connection, it was a her. 

I can feel the hatred around me, i do hear the snickers behind my back, but i am strong, i will be strong for you my dear sweet baby.  You are my guiding hope in this hatred filled world, this non understanding, unforgiving world.  You, Ashlyn Marie, are my light, you will forever be in my heart and in my mind.  I will see you and we will be together, rest in piece my beautiful soul.  

Mommy Loves You!