Wednesday, 25 May 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/25/16

I think I broke something. Not actually, my wrist just hurts like a bitch. It’s all swollen and twitchy. I should probably get it checked out but who has the time?

When I first started killing, I had to be very careful about the victims I chose because it was a learning process and I wasn’t as nimble or knowledgeable as I am now. I never let them get away but the first thing I had to learn was speed over strength. It is much better to have fast reflexes than to have overwhelming muscles. Over the years, I’ve discovered I don’t mind victims fight back. It adds an extra challenge – and I always gain the upper hand – and as long as my skill trumps their will to live, then I’m happy. Which makes this weekend so disappointing.

I let a man lure me into his car with promises of a safe ride home. Now I don’t condone this: getting into a stranger’s car is dangerous eve by my standards. But I was feeling cocky so I let him drive us just outside of town off a dirt road. It’s like he was asking for it.

Unfortunately for the both of us, while he chased me, I turned to hit him with a crowbar and he caught it a split second faster than I anticipated. He caught one good swing in before I regained control. That is the most a normal victim has gotten from me in a long time. Ever.

He hit me with the crowbar and I caught it on my scaphoid which is the bone at the bottom of your thumb connecting to your wrist. The whole area has been enflamed for days. I really should go to the hospital but I need it as a reminder. I can’t be distracted when I’m on the job. No matter what’s going on at home.

I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.

Jason’s graduation, James’s promotion – or eventual promotion (he’s working a lot lately, hoping to cull some good will) – and now it seems Heather and I may actually be friends. You see why I’ve been distracted?

 Last week, we went out for drinks but I lasted half an hour at the crowded game-night pub before I suggested a tamer setting. Even when I was age-appropriate, I only liked being outside of rowdy clubs and bars for hunting purposes. Too many people. Too unpredictable. A group of people in a dark room, grinding and shouting, can cause panic. Drunks out in the open are cannon fodder. Once we were in a calmer scenario – a chain diner that served coffee and a gentle hum at all hours of the day – Heather just started talking; about her absent father, controlling mother, her inability to control her urges, her loving husband. She’s so lucky that he forgave her as often as he did. And I think she knows that which is devastating her. Normally I would blame her for her own problems but something about her sob story made me feel for her. We have a lot in common and when she’s not putting on a facade she’s actually…human. I kind of like her.

So much so that we made plans for lunch on Monday and then again tomorrow. I never thought I’d see the day when I voluntarily spent time with Heather but when she’s not trying so hard we get along. I dare say we could be friends after all these years.

And her work ethic is through the roof. See, there’s always something in it for me. I haven’t completely changed my ways.

My wrist is killing me and I really should get ready for work. I’ve been going in early this week to make sure I am entirely caught up. I’m so close.

Once that’s taken care of, I think things will be a little more balanced. Too much change at once is not good for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 18 May 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/18/16

Jason’s graduation ceremony is tomorrow. This is one of the rare times I am kind of sad my sister can’t be here for Jason. I know he wants her here. He misses his mother and tomorrow is a very big day for him. She took no interest in Sandra’s graduation last year and has no parental claim to Jason other than the fact that she gave birth to him. She’s not coming tomorrow; she hasn’t even tried.

I doubt I will ever be completely satisfied with the situation. I don’t know if you’ve noticed over the years but I am protective of my family. My sister is my closest blood relation and that will never change but she has conducted her life so poorly. As a criminal she was…masterful – someone I have always admired. But as a mother, she abandoned her children, ignored her family’s needs, and now uses her son as a bargaining chip when she wants to guilt her family into anything.

I may be all kinds of twisted and evil but my sister is headed for that special level of hell.

But she’s Jason’s mother and he loves her – or maybe the idea of her. She has something that I have never been able to give him, and I wish I knew what it was. Ever since he was a child, there’s been a disconnect – like he wasn’t entirely here. Sandra always protected him and made sure he was safe and healthy; he ate his vegetables and did his homework, and I was satisfied that Jason was developing into a normal teenage boy. But he lost his mother, and then his sister, and then got told he has a disability – even one as common as ADD – I can’t begin to imagine what’s going in his head.

I wish I could understand why he wants his mother here when he has me; and James – though I couldn’t tell you the status of those boys, they never tell me what goes on when I leave the room. I suppose I’m just being selfish but I sometimes feel rejected by that boy and it breaks my heart.

He’s graduating tomorrow. I know there were days – weeks – when even he thought he might not pass but even without his final exams, he’s going to pass. He’s finally finding a focus in his life and I am so proud of him. But there are days when I wish I could understand him – reach him – and connect the way I did with Sandra. One piece of common ground is all it takes.

I don’t know how many more chances I’ll have with him. For all I know, he could move out tomorrow or he could live with me until he’s 30. But I don’t want to think about that this week. I want to celebrate my son’s high school graduation. And that is what I shall do.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 11 May 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/11/16

So, Heather. You remember a few weeks ago she was distant and clumsy? I got distracted by Kyle the intern – who is still subdued after the horrific death of his second cousin – but I didn’t forget Heather spilling coffee on my desk, soaking a freshly signed contract. She finally opened up about what's been going on. That's an awkward story in itself.

The most obnoxiously loud and opinionated woman I’ve ever met, besides my mother, knocked on my door Friday afternoon. An hour before end of day, Heather quietly asked if we had time to talk and normally I would blow her off and tell her to get back to work but honestly, I was bored. I’d been watching YouTube videos for the last hour while avoiding my never ending pile of emails. The one thing they don’t tell you about going on vacation when you’re in a position of semi-power is the amount of emails and voicemails you have to wade through in the weeks following said vacation. Kill me now.

So when Heather walked in, I was eager for the distraction and promptly invited her in. What worried me about her distraction was that she asked to come in. She knocked and asked and actually seemed to care about my answer. This is the woman who will knock as a courtesy and barge in regardless of my opinion. Apparently she really needed someone to talk to. I refuse to believe I am this woman’s only close friend because that’s just…sad.

Her husband is actually going through with the divorce. That’s what she wanted to talk about. It’s a big deal. Even I know that. I remember it must have been two years ago, her husband showed up at work and threatened her for having an affair. I never heard about it again which means he forgave her. When he caught her again a few months ago, I assumed that it would blow over but apparently she got the papers last month and he made her sign them. It's official, Heather is divorced and has no idea what to do with herself. She gave me this whole speech about loving her husband but having a really bad habit that she could never shake. Apparently she’s cheated on him more than the two times I know about.

She calls extramarital affairs a “bad habit”. I know I’m not one to speak about addiction and destructive habits but really? Actually it’s not so much cheating as it is sex that’s her bad habit which I can understand and sympathize with. I just wish she’d acknowledged it before her marriage fell apart. To have a husband who is willing to forgive her more than once for her bad habit is a rare thing.

I realize suddenly, how much Heather and I have in common. I never thought I’d see the day.

But anyways, Heather and I had a good long chat about the men in our lives and how we’re going to get her through this divorce.

I think I agreed to get drinks with her on Friday. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.

I did feel bad for Heather – I do feel bad for Heather – and the situation she got herself into so I killed a married man on the way home. My little contribution to making her feel better. That and I agreed to get drinks with her on Friday. Seriously, what? Just because I sympathize with the woman does not mean I need to spend any more time with her than necessary.

No way will I allow myself to like this woman socially.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/04/16

Miami was…pretty boring.

I’m just kidding, I had a blast. It was the most relaxing and refreshing nine days I’ve had in a long time. No fears, no stressors, just sun and murder. To be honest, I wasn’t really planning on the murder but if it happened then I’d roll with it; and it happened.

I called the boys when I landed and they seemed to be fine. No police sirens in the background, no code words for “save me”. James assured me that I had nothing to worry about. He’d make sure Jason went to class, and went to work, and ate, and slept while maintaining a safe distance since he’s almost an adult and quote: “doesn’t need his parents monitoring his every move.”

There is a difference between understanding my son – I was his age…not that long ago – and actually turning that understanding into a strong, working parent/son relationship.

But back to Miami.

The hotel I booked was on the beach but suspiciously cheap. Last minute vacations do require some sacrifice of comfort, I accept that. It wasn’t a horrible hotel, just not what I would call “luxury.” I stayed at a hotel on the beach because I planned to spend as much time there as possible but I still expected my hotel room to be nice. It was cold and cramped; they served one meal a day which resembled what a cheap Eastern-European grandmother might serve: filling but tasteless. Every day it was cold cuts, fruit and veggies, and some kind of unidentified warm sausage. Thank god for take-out. The worst part of the entire hotel experience is that I was the youngest guest.

Suddenly the menu choice makes so much sense.

Don’t worry, I didn’t kill any guests while I was down there. Too much work. Do you know how messy murder is? I mean once they’re dead? You lose all bodily control. Everything gets released. In a healthy body, that’s pretty gross, but in a wrinkled, decaying body? It’s…

I don’t want to think about it.

I am never getting old.

I didn’t plan on spending much time in the hotel so I tried not to think about what awaited me at the end of every night. I had a whole area to explore anonymously with nothing but sun, sand, and ocean all around. How could it be any better than that?

On the third day I recruited one of the night auditors – we’ll call him Francis – who made the mistake of asking: “how can I help you?” He saved my chair on the beach, bought me drinks, rubbed lotion on my back – I don’t think the man slept between his nightly duties and caring for me, I’m forever impressed. And then I asked him to bring me a vacationer who looked lonely. I figured if I didn’t have to hunt, I wouldn’t. Vacation means no work.

An hour later, Francis brought me a man, about thirty, who’d clearly been day drinking. He was here for a business conference but decided to ditch it in favour of actually enjoying himself. I promised him “real enjoyment” if he came back to my hotel later. Such an easy mark. I gave him the wrong information and we ended up in the alley between two hotels further down the boardwalk than my hotel. Fifteen minutes later, the drunk business man was head first in a dumpster with his throat slit and his wallet missing. Like I said, such an easy mark.

For the next two days, Francis brought me three more beach-goers who were just begging to be targeted. All of them were dead by the end of the day. All with their wallets missing.

By then, my unwitting accomplice had figured out what was going on and I was going to offer to pay him but he said he wanted to help. So I included him in more of the process. I taught him how to choice his victims – we started with easy tourists – and how to lure them away from crowds and vary his method just enough that the police wouldn’t catch on right away.

That may sound like work but it’s not a hassle when it’s something you love. I got to pass on my wisdom to someone genuinely interested and I got free drinks and prime beach real estate. How is that not a vacation?

Francis was a very good listener, he did everything I told him to. He even took my suggestion of taking their wallet as a souvenir – especially since it would make identification easier and create a fake motive for the police to follow. Such a proficient accomplice.

Of course as he drove me to the airport, I had to kill him and make it look like a suicide while planting all those wallets in his glove box so the murders could be blamed on him but he will be missed. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone I could talk to about my craft outside my family.

But speaking of family: I missed my boys. Not enough that I’ll never need a vacation from them every once in a while, but I do admit to getting a little home sick in my last few days. I’ve had my time away, and now I’m back home, in my own territory; where I belong.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe