Wednesday 31 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/31/16

Nothing new to report this week. Jason doesn’t start technical college until next week; he seems more content than he was earlier this summer. He’s growing up all on his own. I’m proud.

But as he grows up, I find myself facing my childhood. On Friday, I went out for drinks with Heather to maintain our obligatory friendship. I was having a nice time, we drank, I indulged in my desire to gossip about our coworkers. I know it’s wrong spread that kind of negativity but sometimes you need to vent and apparently “normal people” vent by gossiping and sending passive aggressive emails. Overall, people are assholes but I’ve been learning their ways. The more time I spend with Heather, the more I see her side of office life. She’s been my secretary for 6 years and I have no idea what she does all day. That’s not meant to be a slight on her character. Like I’ve said, she’s very good at her job. I’m always ready and on time for meetings, things are always copied or filed or faxed when I ask and she rarely takes a day off. I probably couldn’t do my job without her. But once I close my office door, I have no idea what she does. I still don’t, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.

Anyways, we were out of drinks on Friday, having a great time, sharing a few laughs, when who should walk by but Rebecca fucking Wood. We went to high school together, shared a lot of classes but nothing that extended far beyond the building. We shared a quick hello and exchanged introductions, and then I made the mistake of asking: “so what are you up to?”

She’s incredibly successful; pursued her passion right out of university, received promotion after promotion at an alarming rate, now makes…well not million but she’s very well off. I hated it. Call me petty all you want, but I left our encounter feeling bitter.

I am successful in my own life. I have a steady career, a good income, a child at home, a husband who loves me; I am pursuing my passion even if I`m not getting paid for it. I have every reason to be happy with my life. I hate to admit it but I was jealous. I was bitter and jealous.

I clearly still am.

Seeing someone else who’s going after the same goal, but is just better at it, makes me incredibly frustrated. It feels like I’m failing. And I don’t like to fail, or lose.

I should take this as an opportunity for self-improvement but instead, I killed Rebecca yesterday. Mostly out of spite.

It felt great. My confidence is restored. Now, I don’t recommend killing everyone who makes you feel inadequate – that would take way too much time – venting is good; getting your emotions out whether through gossip or physical violence, is healthier than keeping it in.

How’s that for a life lesson?

You’re welcome, dear readers.

As always,


Stay Safe

Wednesday 24 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/24/16

My god; how can you sleep in a hostel and be so utterly pretentious?

As the summer draws to a close and the weather moves from scorching to freezing, the downtown area is filled up with hikers and tourists on their last trip before they head home. In a burst of insanity, it seems, I checked into a local hostel so see what fresh victims could be found.

To say the least, my weekend was crowded and disgustingly sweaty.

First of all, sleeping six to a room is uncomfortable and wearisome. Stuck in a room full of girls who are either shy and uncomfortable or won’t fucking shut up is a special level of hell I never thought I’d live in. Their ages ranged between barely legal and mid-thirties so the diversity was nice I suppose. Many different lives converging and all that; but I would not give up my privacy for all the victims in the world. And then, we sat around the breakfast table and swapped stories about our summer adventures.

The ego on some of these people.

“I hiked all the way up this mountain and then camped with a family of bears before hitchhiking my way through this area and that area, and oh have ever been to this site? Don’t, it’s rubbish.”

Their conversations alone would have made anyone turn to murder. As it was, I lasted Friday and Saturday night before I took the opportunity to strike out. I offered to show one of the loner girls around the town before she headed home. She was early-twenties, quiet, didn’t known anyone in town.

Too, too easy.

I sometimes worry that I’m setting the women’s movement back by discouraging young women to travel alone. I’d like to think I’d just as easily kill a young male traveller if he crossed my path. We’ll just have to test that theory.

Not at that hostel, though. Never again. I cannot stand the chatter and the crowds. Not in such a closed environment where everyone can notice everything.

I just can’t.

Not for a while anyway, I need some peace and quiet before I head back into the fray. Home is a nice place for that. It’s been quiet for a while. A nice way to close out the summer.

My god, where has the time gone? Seems like yesterday I was in Miami, seducing the pool boy and soaking in the sun.

Looking back on the past few updates, so much has happened and yet so little. Sometimes I seem to just…ramble about nothing.

I started this blog to document my life and my murders and while I still release all that energy on the page and on the streets, I find more comfort in releasing my fears and hopes in my personal life. Do you care about those things, dear readers? Am I writing this for my own amusement?

I wouldn’t care if I was, I could use some amusement but I’d like to know: is it all worth it?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday 17 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/17/16

Remember how I wanted to ask Jason to teach me some of what he was working on to get better acquainted with his interests? I thought it was a good idea. My son did not. His reaction, when I asked him on Saturday, was to laugh at me then shake his head and say “oh come on, mom.”

He called me mom; that was nice. His flippant rejection was a bit harsh but I understand. I’m old. What could I understand? That’s his thinking, not mine. I accept the stereotype that most children think their parents know nothing about technology. I’d like to think I’m better than the average dumb parent but if I’m being perfectly honest my sister is way better at it than I am.

Speaking of my sister…

She’s still under the impression that she’ll be out in a month. I will make sure that my sister stays exactly where she belongs. I owe it to this old town: only one woman prowling the streets at a time. Two is just e\sdrsfgbcv

Edit: My chair just broke.

James is now awake and laughing at me.

It’s going to be a long week.

Although I did have a little fun yesterday. As I was driving home I passed a man who was wearing a t-shirt that read “This body knows no pain.” I took it as a challenge; I won.

It was a standard kidnapping, I hit him lightly and convinced him to let me drive him to the hospital. We ended up at the lake just outside of the city with nothing but a tarp and the tools to change a spare tire. Did you know you can fit a jack between nearly every major moving joint and just *pop* dislocate them? The hips were especially fun. I had his knees tied tight together and then put the jack right near his pelvic bone and just kept pushing. When his hips popped out, they made a little heart shape – until I changed the direction of his knees.

The human body can be twisted into amazing positions if you know how to get creative. When I dumped him in the lake he was a sort of “G” shape. Rigor mortis was just starting to set in (I may have kept playing with him after he died, he was so pliable by that point) so his hands stand twisted above his head and his dangling, broke toes just completed the circle. You know you play with silly putty or play-doh and you create little sculptures that you can twist and pull and squish to your heart’s content? He was like that.

I’m gonna miss that guy.

Anyway, that’s really the only fun I’ve had lately. Not that things have been horrible, but that was the stand out moment.

That. And breaking my chair. That wasn’t fun.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe 

Wednesday 10 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/10/16

For those of you wondering about the currently open cold case involving yours truly, I’m more frustrated than worried. James’ precinct isn’t working the case so he hasn’t been able to find out much. For one: we still don’t know what new evidence has surfaced in the past two years.

I’ve now learnt the boy’s name and what he did for a living. Neither are of any importance which only makes me more curious about why this is happening now. I’d say it’s driving me crazy but I know what it feels like to go crazy and this is just annoying.

When the police know more than I do, lives are at stake.

I remember back when Sandra became suspicious of me. She called the police and had me questioned for such a trivial case – like this one. God, I wanted to kill her.

Maybe someone’s coming after me.

Maybe I’m paranoid.

Moving on.


Oh I can’t move on.

I find myself facing my mortality lately; reflecting on the way my life has gone – especially in the last few years. I turn 39 on Friday. In a year I’ll be 40. 40; that was a number I feared when I was a kid. 40 was old. It meant being settled down in my life, no more ambition or desire for change. No more adventure. And now I’m here.

I thought I would feel differently. Like something would click in my head and suddenly I would have all the wisdom that comes with being 40. I have the mentality of a 20 year old sometimes: a head full of fantasies and ideas about what the world around me should be like. Instead of accepting the world around me, I live in my head. I get so angry when the world doesn't look the way I imagined it as a teenager that I wonder if that's why I started killing.

I don't fear my desire to kill, or shy away from it - clearly - but I rarely question why I started. It was so long ago, I can barely remember. 40 seemed like such a lifetime away back then. In any case, I’m still 38 and have plenty of time to mope about the trials and tribulations of my life.

What ever happened to the girl who killed her high school crush behind the bleachers and was content with that life?

Oh god, what has gotten into me?

You know, I was so proud of myself: last Sunday marked a year since Sandra’s death and I held it together very well. However, all week I’ve found myself in a…melancholy sort of mood.

I don’t like it. I am in the prime of my life. The height of both my careers, a loving family at home; what more could a woman want?

Answers about this fucking case?

What do they have?

Ugh.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday 3 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/03/16

I can’t believe that god damn fucking prick is doing this to me. That cock sucking son of a bitch is haunting me from my grave and thinks he can get away with it.

Whoever he is, he’s a dead man.

Literally.

Ldghfgtsdeavfkhuyustbsuykrvgbdghslmcalgnuyv!!

The police are reopening a murder from April 2014 because of “new evidence”. Some stupid asshole on a bus was stabbed with a pair of nail scissors and then the security footage mysteriously went missing. Clear cut case. No one is sure what this new evidence entails but it can only smell trouble for me.

That was so long ago. Another lifetime, another person. Before Daniel, before Sandra, before all of it. Things were so simple back then. My biggest worry was taking the bus after a minor car accident not ghosts from murders past.

And before you ask, yes, it has occurred to me that this is a common police method for smoking out a jittery killer and that would make sense if this news were coming out a few months after the murder but 27 months later? No way it’s a ploy. Not for some random kid. They have something and I need to find out what.


I apologize for my outburst earlier. The news broke only ten minutes ago, I’m still a little in shock. I’ll be fine in a few minutes, I just had to get this down now.

I will not be arrested for this or any other petty murder. I have been doing this for too long for my arrest to be meaningless. My challenge to the police is the same as its always been: catch me if you can and make it count. 20-something years of killing will not end because some cold case worker decided to be proactive.

I need to know what the police have.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe