Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Your Mid-Week Update 04/26/17

Many of you commented on my last update asking me to let Betty live and I suppose you’re right. Gaining viewers is a lot harder than gaining victims.

But I already stabbed her in the ear with a letter opener and left her body to rot in a watershed so…oops? I’m not really sorry you guys. I probably should be but it’s done and Betty was probably going to die anyways.

I think the worst part was battling the elements. The weather has been so crazy all this month. It snowed, then it was humid and hot, then it was raining, and now it’s snowing again except it’s warm enough that it melts before it touches the ground. The entire city is just slush. Luke warm slush. Everything is slippery and damp and I hate it.

The mess has made everything inconvenient. Just inconvenient. Do you realize how annoying that is? That’s like Blockbuster only carrying the second best movie.

Ooh I dated myself didn’t I? Meh. You knew that coming in to this update so why am I justifying myself?

I’m rambling, it’s time to go.


As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 04/19/17

I’m feeling so conflicted. James thinks I should go through with it but I want your opinion.

I’ve chosen my work victim. Her name is Betty and she works in the sales department. She’s quiet and isolated within her department. From what I’ve overheard, none of the women feel comfortable around her and she gives off a very “odd” vibe. By all accounts she’ll be a very easy kill.

But here’s the thing.

I snuck on to her computer on Friday afternoon and looked at her search history.

She reads the blog.

And she’s even commented on a few.

First of all: PSYCHO! Even I know that it’s slightly psychotic to enjoy the world that I live in. I am not the norm. I don’t hide or supress my dark urges. People who read and enjoy my blog are obviously concealing some serious issues.

Not that I don’t love my readers.

But even you can admit that you’re not here because you’re “normal”.

Which brings me to my second point which is: I NEED THE VIEWERS!

You guys don’t see my viewer stats every week. You are small but loyal readers but emphasis on small.

I don’t want to lose any readers especially if I intentionally kill them off. I’ve often thought about whether or not I’ve accidently murdered a reader. If I have I’m so sorry – although you’re not around to read this so…whatever.

My intention is to murder and to have readers and not kill readers.

But Betty is the perfect kill at work.

James says I should go through with it but what do you guys think?

Would you, as my readers, be okay losing a fellow viewer?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 12 April 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 04/12/17

People in cars are idiots. They’re also easy kills. I’ve always known this but sometimes you get to indulge in the simple pleasures in life. Essentially, some asshole cut me off so I followed him into a parking lot and cut his breaks. I wonder if that counts towards road rage statistics or homicide statistics. Both? It’s something I’ve never thought about.

You know what I have thought about? Killing Lydia. Why is it so damn hard for you to follow direction? You have had two weeks to finish those reports and they’re still not done. It takes you four hours to do what it takes everyone else one hour to do. At least Heather’s was always good at her job before we became friends. I want her gone. She’s beyond my patience.

Ugh. She’s too close to kill, I can’t do it. I’ve learned my lesson. But I’d like to kill someone at work. I realize that I haven’t killed anyone in the office since Daniel – for obvious reasons. I know the risks and it’ll require a little more pre-work but I’m making it my challenge for the month.

It’s officially Kill Your Co-Worker Month. Who’s in?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

Your Mid-Week Update 04/05/17

I love feeling that I accomplished nothing only to find that I’ve had a fairly productive week. It’s a little confidence boost that is always appreciated.

I got my taxes done, I had dinner with my husband every night – either at home or at his work – I spent time with Jason, I checked in on Heather and got her settled back into her house, I perfected my screw driver work on a pair of college boys; hint: you’d think it was all in the wrist action but it’s better to lead with the shoulder. There’s more power behind it and you end up exuded less effort. Exuding? Is that the right word? I hate second guessing myself. I know my grammar and spelling isn’t the best on this blog but the idea wasn’t to filter y thoughts. I’m just here to tell you my story. Sometimes I’m too tired to think straight and sometimes I just have nothing to talk about (or I’m not ready to talk about). Like this week. Nothing exciting or noteworthy has happened. That’s not a bad thing and I’m certainly not going to jinx it by saying that I’m happy or settled…

Although I guess I just did.


In any case, I have nothing to talk about and that’s not a bad thing. People are dying, my family is content, work is productive. That’s all. That’s really all.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/29/17

My talk with Heather about getting off of my god damn couch was much more successful than I ever could have imagined. I approached her last Wednesday afternoon and very calmly asked if she’d be willing to stop by her house to pick up her mail this weekend. She was quiet for a moment and then she nodded slowly and agreed to drive over on Saturday.

And that was that. I took her to her house, doorstep piling up with mail, and even convinced her to go inside. I’ll admit, I did a fantastic job of cleaning up but now the living room seemed empty. We didn’t stay long but we were only gone long enough to grab her things and move them back into her own bedroom.

Heather is officially back at home and doing well, from what I hear. I kind of wish I’d gently kicked her out sooner. But it’s done now so things can go back to normal. I’m even back on my regular kill schedule which is just orgasmically wonderful. That is a word that should be a part of the English language for how powerful the imagery is – at least I think so. I’m just so satisfied with being able to go back to committing murder without worrying about anyone else. It’s making things more fun.

For example, I had no idea there were so many nerve endings on the back and thigh area. It was fascinating to see a young man just crumple with a simple jab from my nail gun – which does not shoot like a gun, thank you, film industry. It still packs a powerful punch and telling your husband that you stapled a man to death is just delightful. His face just lit up. He is so adorable when he wants to be. God I love him.

Give me a break, my anniversary is coming up and I might actually get to spend it with my husband. Wouldn’t that be nice?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/22/17

You’d think that at my age I’d be able to confront conflict and acknowledge emotion but at heart I’m still a twenty year old who has no idea how to find a real balance and happiness with life.

Which is why I’m having such a problem telling Heather that she needs to get off my fucking couch.

I am happy to support my friend in a hobby that we both seem to share but it’s time. It’s god damn time she went home and dealt with the fact that she murdered her husband and I’ve been doing all the hard work. I cleaned her house, I reported him missing, I filed all of her paperwork so she could sit on my couch moping for weeks on end. She needs to start doing something productive. And that starts with her sleeping in own bed at home by the end of this week.

I have no other priorities other than getting Heather off my god damn couch by Friday night. Or so help me there will be another murder.

She got toothpaste on the counter and didn’t clean it up. I know that’s an incredibly minor thing but it’s on a list of 400 other minor things that she’s done in the past month to piss me off. She left an empty milk cartoon in the fridge, she’s stopped folding up the blankets on the couch, on more than one occasion she’s “accidentally” walked into my room without knocking. It’s like living with a frat boy and I’m over it.

The boys have been ready for her to leave for a while now but I’ve defended her because she’s my friend and apparently murder is traumatic but now she’s just pissing me off.

I’ve thought about how to approach her and I’ve narrowed it down to two approaches: “Get over it and get out!” or “Hey Heather, I thought we’d drive by your house today and pick up your mail.”

Like I said: the emotional stability of a twenty-year-old. I’d like to go with the latter but something tells me I’m going to end up shouting the former on Friday afternoon before she leaves work.

I promise that’s not my plan but realistically, that’s what’s going to happen.

That’s not my intention but it will happen.

I’m a bad person sometimes.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/15/17

I opened the letter – of course I did. Curiosity finally got the better of me around 4am on Friday morning when I was up thinking about my life to this date. When we had career day in elementary school, I never would have guessed I’d end up with a loving husband, a fucked up child, a deranged woman living on my couch, and two equally murderous jobs.

It’s a copy of her college entrance essay. I’m not going to share it but it was very well written and a very moving piece about her family and her personal experiences. It was 1000 words that made it feel like Sandra was sitting beside me. But I was right: knowing what was in the letter brought back emotions that didn’t need to be addressed at 4am on a Friday. Now I’m just tired and distracted but ultimately quiet.

I don’t like it. I hate feeling mildly out of control.

There’s nothing…there’s nothing else.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/08/17

Things have officially settled. I hesitate to say it because optimism undoubtedly leads to tragedy. It is the arrogance of hope. If I’ve taught you anything in all our years together it’s that arrogance will get you killed. So when I say that things have settled, I worry about jinxing the situation but at the same time, I need to tell you that the situation in my household has reached a plateau and I’m happy about it.

James’ busy schedule has seemed to reach a middle ground where he only works nights three times a week and I actually get to sleep with my husband. It’s not about having sex with him; it’s about the comfort of sleeping next to him. It’s a weird habit where I like sharing in the warmth and touch that we provide each other. I’ve always been used to his unusual hours and having to sleep alone on occasion but the last few months, he’s been working the late shift more and more often. I know it’s because he’s working through his promotion and the late hours are so he can keep me safe which is why I never complain…to his face. I can rant and whine to you all I damn well please. So long as James never learns how selfish I am. But he’s back so I have no reason to complain about it more than I already have today.

Jason is also back to a normal schedule. He’s sleeping more and going to work every day. I even found the courage to ask him about college the other day. I didn’t push him to go to school after his father’s death – and the school was very accommodating when I phrased it so generally – but he’s bee back at school for over a month now and I’m worried about what his future plans are. I know his grades aren’t the best but he has a specialized interest and that has to drive him to do something productive. I hope. I know I shouldn’t push him but it’s alright because he answered me honestly. He doesn’t know. He still has a lot of the same interests but Andrew made him think about what else life has to offer. I will respect his wishes – whether or not they involve college – I want him to be okay. Whether or not I agree with his methods he is working towards that.

Heather is not working towards this coveted “okay” stasis. She is, she’s just going about it very differently. She came back to work full time on Monday and even sassed me which is a very excellent thing. But she’s grown quieter around the other girls in the office – especially Lydia. She’s been ignoring her the past two days and kept her head down whenever people come to my office. She’s still working efficiently and responds with a generally snarky tone whenever someone talks to her; but she’s not instigating conversation. It’s perfectly reasonable to me that she needs a little time to readjust to this much social interaction but I still count it as a win: Heather is sitting at her desk acting like a judgemental bitch and getting everyone’s work done.

Which brings me to…myself. I feel tired all the time. I’m eating a little healthier – since Heather insisted on grocery shopping with me – she’s still living on my couch but I don’t mind it. I’m content. Until I was cleaning out my office desk last night. I do it about every five years and it’s mostly just to shred my outdated paperwork. I found a letter from Sandra in my top drawer. It hadn’t been opened and I don’t remember putting it in there so I assume Sandra slipped it in when I wasn’t looking. I haven’t read it yet. It could be nothing. But it could also be something very important.

If I never open it then I’ll never have to know if Sandra had even more secrets that she never shared.

I’ll get to remember her the way I want to.

Besides, things are going well now. No need to stir up the past.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 1 March 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/01/17

I have to keep this brief, I still have blood in my fingernails and it’s going to take forever to clean them out before work. I’ve seen people spurt blood from their neck in movies and I’ve seen them gush in real life, but this was a whole new level. Tweezers were not supposed to be the most dangerous weapon I used in my career and yet it was surprisingly useful for a close-up kill. Because it doesn’t just poke a hole or slice in a thin line; it’s an open, gapping chunk of neck that just doesn’t stop – hence why I was so unprepared for how much cleanup would be involved. It was a gift from my husband so how could I refuse? He brought me this sweet young woman who was walking home from a bad break up and just needed some company. She was actually very company. She was normal and had normal problems like a sexist boss, and an insensitive ex-boyfriend, and car payments that were clashing with her student loan payments. We had a very nice chat before I killed her. I’d forgotten how nice it is to just sit and talk with someone. It was a nice reminder that the world keeps going and you can move on. Things will get back to normal.

Heather is coming back to work next week. Her mousey temp has been fine but she’s no Heather. I’ve always liked Heather’s work ethic, that’s nothing new, so it stands to reason that when she’s not around I miss her. I still can’t believe I let myself get this attached to my secretary but that’s a whole other problem.

Now I really need to go and scrub before work.

It’s always the little things that will get you.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/22/17

I haven’t had a girls night – a proper girls night – since I was in my twenties. Of course, I’ve never maintained friendships very long because they either die or move on. But when I did, I enjoyed the occasional night of wine and ranting. Sometimes living the stereotype is just fun.

There was one woman, Emma, who persisted especially long. She was extremely outspoken and tended to get very touchy when she was drunk but there was something about her that I found endearing. Perhaps it was her brutal honesty but she’s one who I never – or rarely – thought about killing. That was a startling realization. Since I began my murder spree, I’m continuously looking for a new people to kill and who better than your friends when you’re in need of a boost? Another reason why my friends never last long; why would I invest in a relationship I’m seeking to end?

Heather was another rare exception wherein I imagined her death on almost a weekly basis but she wormed her way into my heart and now she’s too valuable to kill. I mention this because Heather asked me out for drinks “like old times” as if we’ve been going out forever – and that it’s been such a long time since we’ve seen each other. Regardless, I said yes. At this point, I am so anxious for everything to turn transition back to something normal.

On a side note, I am officially a mass murderer hunted by the local police – soon to be federal case, so my husband says. I hate being sought after because it means I need to be unreasonably careful. Not that I’ve gotten many opportunities to kill this week. It’s slowly getting noisier in my house and I can finally breathe.

Jason is starting therapy next week. I may not agree with his decision but I’ll be damned if I don’t support my son in his endeavors. Heather and I went out for drinks on Friday and it was fine. Just fine. Nothing crazy happened and no secrets were revealed. I got her caught up on work gossip, told her about the mousey new temp and encouraged her to come in to as many normal business hours as she could muster so that her  end of med leave wouldn’t be such a shock. So far she’s driven into work with me on Monday and Tuesday and I have hope for today. She’s getting better, Jason’s getting better, I’m…fine.

I know some of you have been wondering about my sister’s birthday dinner last week. I’d say it deserves its own update but I really don’t want to talk about it.

She didn’t fucking show up!

I set up this dinner, arranged it with her PO and emotionally prepared everyone in the house for any eventuality and she didn’t even show up.

“Oops. I forgot.”

She’s the one who asked for this dinner.

I can’t stand her some days – most days. I’m apparently still frustrated at something I should have already known. My sister is an extremely selfish person.

I can’t completely cut myself off from her – she’s my sister – but I can be frustrated.

So I’m frustrated.

And now I’m frustrated for the day ahead because I’ve been talking about the people in my life.

I wonder what ever happened to Emma?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/15/17

Well, Valentine’s Day was both a successful break and a total bust. I haven’t been out to kill in several weeks now and I could feel the anxiety coming on. I’ve gotten quite good at curbing my natural violent urges but that doesn’t mean I can just stop cold turkey for such a long period of time. I was getting antsy and James could see that.

How he saw it is beyond me – considering he’s barely home these days – but I’m not complaining. I’m just curious. I know that he’s working these extra hours to keep his family safe and work towards his promotion but my god, I have gone to bed without him so many times this month, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to sleep next to him. He’s got a blanket and pillow set up near the living room couch so he “doesn’t have to disturb me”. It’s frustrating.

Regardless of my feelings, James noticed that I was getting claustrophobic and offered me a very thoughtful Valentine’s gift: he babysat Heather while I went out to kill. Such a sweet gesture. However, I was really looking forward to spending some quality time with my husband on the one day we have an excuse to be romantic. But, I still accepted his gesture and went out for an evening of self-indulgence.

After last night, I may have been too desperate to make up for lost time. I think I can officially call myself a mass murderer. I’ll have to look  it up to be sure but I believe it’s just the killing of three or more people over a short period of time (an evening). At least I enjoyed myself. I got home and passed out from exhaustion but I had a good time. One happy coupe and a drunk frat boy later, and I call it a successful but frustrating Valentine’s Day.

I feel horrible, though, because James spent his romantic holiday with a slightly manic depressive murderer. Last week, I decided enough was enough and sat Heather down to talk to her about her behavior. I told her enough was enough and she needed to start moving on. I may have been harsh but I just couldn’t take it anymore. She was moaning around the house at all hours, barely speaking, or sleeping. It was too much to handle. I clearly care less about her well-being than I do my son’s so I feel no guilt or shame in physically shaking a woman out of her hysteria. She crumpled to the floor and cried for an hour before getting up, showering and sitting down at the dinner table with the rest of us. She’s been quiet but responsive and going about normal duties. She even said she’ll go back to work soon.

Except Heather is now on extended medical leave – all thanks to her very understanding supervisor – which means she is automatically off work until at least the end of the month. Of course this means I need to find a temporary secretary, a fact which I have been dreading. I always hate my temps. I hate teaching them, I hate coddling them. I’m going to bring Heather in to train her temp and I’m hoping that having a focus will help with her recovery.

That last bit of business I should tell you about is my sister. Her birthday is on tomorrow and I, in my infinite wisdom, invited her over for dinner tonight. I told her I want to celebrate everything she’s accomplished in the last few months but really I want to check in on her. Honestly, I haven’t thought about my sister in weeks – I’ve been a little busy – and have no idea what’s going on in her life and if I need to worry about her. I’m kind of hoping having her around will be a calm reprieve from the chaos of the month and a half.

Or maybe she’ll make it worse, who knows.

I’ll keep you updated.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/08/17

You know it’s too cold out when even I don’t want to go out and kill. Winter is such a tumultuous time in my line of work. On one hand, it’s too easy. People can die of exposure and fatal car accidents with little effort; on the other hand, frost bite. I like the snow and ice that accompany the bitter weather. I can use snow and ice and still complain about it to my coworkers. The cold, biting air is just a nuisance. A dangerous nuisance.

I couldn’t get my car to start yesterday and Ron said I could work from home which was nice because I hated the idea of braving that weather. However, working from home meant that I got to spend the whole day with my two maudlin serial killers.

In case you haven’t quite grasped my situation, both my son and my secretary/friend have killed someone and I have had to clean up after them. The truly tragic thing is that Heather has killed more recently than I have. Because I’ve been so busy cleaning up her mess. It’s been two weeks and she hasn’t left my house. She spent the first two days curled up on my couch not speaking, or eating, or sleeping. And then she spent a week shuffling around the house, switching between screaming and shaking, and crying and eating. I spent $200 on groceries last week because she just kept eating. And her screaming was barely coherent.  She’s officially on medical leave (courtesy of her very understanding boss) which isn’t far from the truth.

I got the full story out of her last week which is what I expected happened. Her ex-husband ran out of money, got drunk, and decided to take her back forcefully. He beat her and demanded that she quit her job so they could move. After all their years of turmoil – fighting, and leaving, and her cheating, and him cheating – she just snapped. She killed him Saturday night and sat with the body until I found her o Tuesday night. I didn’t talk about this last week but the smell was just unbearable. She was more functional at her house with a decaying dead body than she’s been at my house this past week. She’s now at a place when she’s sleeping, and eating, and showering. She talks but only for five or ten minutes at a time and then she’ll start crying or yelling about “her”. Not me or Heather. This mysterious “her”. I have no idea what it’s about but at least she’s talking. We’ve been slipping her half a sleeping pill to calm her down but for the most part, she’s not dealing with what happened.

 Jason has been handling his recent indiscretion with more ease. He spent a few days processing the situation after his father died and then he went back to work and started talking to me again. And I’m keeping to my vow; no more lies. I won’t tell him everything but if he asks me a question, I will answer honestly. This weekend he asked me if I had ever done anything like he had done and I said “yes”. He then asked if I understood what he was dealing with and said “no”. And then he asked me what to do next and I told him that there were two options: he could work to move on and live with the guilt, or he could learn how to do it better next time.

He’s going to start looking for psychotherapists tomorrow.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt by his decision to cope and move away from the family business. After what happened to Sandra, maybe this is for the best. I told him as much but I don’t think he really understand what happened to his sister. He knows more than he did before. He’s growing up in a way I didn’t expect.

I hope he’ll be okay.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/01/17

I should apologize for last week; I was genuinely in a rush and didn’t know when I would be able to give you an update so the brief breakdown was all I could provide at the time. But now I have a moment to breathe and I can catch you up on…well, everything.

To start with, I went out for drinks with Heather last Friday (or, I guess two weeks ago). My instincts were correct: she wanted to quit. I tried to talk her out of it, I really did, but she told me she would be sending in her resignation the following Monday. She gave no explanation beyond “It’s time for a change.” When she told me, I was upset. I was more than upset. I can’t quite describe the clench in my heart that made me numb on my drive home. Heather has been a constant in my life for so any years I can’t imagine what life at work would be like without her. I’d be stuck with Lydia and that is just unacceptable. Also for other, sentimental reasons which involve me feeling emotions I can’t quite describe.

Come Sunday, I was practically pacing a hole through the living room, dying to find a way to keep. Heather from leaving. Finally, I drove the half hour to her house and knocked on the door at 10pm. Surprisingly, she opened the door immediately but there was something off about her. She seemed quiet and all together rushed. I would find out later why. When she answered the door, she assured me her decision was not hasty but she would discuss it with me on Monday morning. Lo and behold, Monday morning came and Heather wasn’t at work but no email came in all day. I wanted to give her time to realise what a mistake she was making. Tuesday also came and went with no word from Heather so after work last week, I went to check on her.


I found her at home, covered in a pool of her ex-husband’s blood on her living room floor. I have never been so proud and so horrified for Heather as I have in that moment. That moment where she looked up from her crumpled position in the corner, tears staining her cheeks, eyes puffy from lack of sleep. I don’t think she’d closed her eyes since Sunday night.

Her ex-husband came back into her life a few weeks ago and was decidedly unhappy with newly found independence. His hold on her was stronger than I’ve ever seen and now he’s dead.

Like I said: proud and horrified.

She said she had to. She kept repeating that over and over again. While I cleaned up her mess, while I washed the blood off her walls, while I dragged her into the car while I grabbed my shovel. After all that, she was completely numb. I think her husband attacked her – beat her. I still don’t know how to help her. She’s been staying with me for the past week with no objection from the others. I haven’t forced her to go back to work or talk about what’s happened but it’s been a quiet, somber week in the house.

I can’t believe it’s come to this. There are three killers in my house and I’m comforting both of them.

Heather killed someone.

I don’t mean to gloss over it but I’m still coming to terms with it.

That’s been happening a lot lately. First Jason, then Heather. My worlds are colliding. I don’t like it. This is what I always wanted but not this way.

Definitely not this way.

I must attend to the numb zombies in my living room.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 01/25/17

I don’t have time to talk right now; I need to grab the shovel, wake up Jason, kick James off of the couch, buy groceries, rehire Heather, and deal with this raging migraine.

You know, it would be logical to write this update later when I have more time and more information to give.

But that’s less dramatic. And what’s the fun in that?

So instead I’ll let you sit with your questions and wild imagination for another week when I’ll hopefully have more time to explain just what the fuck has happened to my January.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe 

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 01/18/17

The thing I know you’re all wondering about – Jason – is still a work in progress but there has been progress so I haven’t quite lost hope.

He came to me Friday and asked me about Sandra’s final days. Just like that, no prompting, no warning, he just sat down beside me at the breakfast table and asked me what really happened to Sandra. I told him the truth, of course I did. I’m not going to lie to him anymore. About the big things; I’m still his mother, I can lie to him if I want to.

I was late to work but I told him about Daniel’s delusions, Sandra’s recent hobby, and that Daniel got what he deserved for what he did. I didn’t go into detail but he if asked, I would have. I told him that Sandra had urges she couldn’t control and that she knew more than she ever told either of us. Oh, I know there are things my daughter never told me. I wouldn’t expect things to be any different; but the secrets she kept from Jason were always for his protection. You may not think he needs it – especially after what’s happened – but I will keep the tradition going. He will come into his own eventually but until then, I will protect him from my world.

After we had our talk, he apologized and went back up to his room. It was over as abruptly as it had begun. He’s still processing and I don’t blame him, I just hate that it’s taking so long. He’s following his normal routine but he’s not interacting with James or I when he’s at home. It’s frustrating.

What’s more frustrating is that James hasn’t been home lately. He comes home after working erratic hours and goes straight to bed because he’s tired. I don’t doubt that he’s exhausted, I hate that he won’t talk to me about his day. Or about anything. He didn’t even come home Monday night because he thought it was easier to sleep at the station.

You, dear readers, have been my only outlet lately. James hasn’t been around for any of Jason’s struggles. I just feel alone right now. I need to be home for Jason but I can’t stand it; the isolation is killing me but I’m not killing others. I need an indoor hobby to keep my occupied. Suggestions?

Work isn’t really offering any distractions lately. Heather told me yesterday that she wants to get drinks this weekend. According to Lynda or Lydia or whatever I call her, Heather has been quiet lately and I just haven’t noticed. That’s not so unusual; Heather had her own life and own problems and drinks are a good way to vent but they’re not obligatory. We’re friends but I’m not her keeper – if she wants to talk, lord knows she will. But ever since she talked about going out, I’ve had this odd sense of dread. I think Heather’s going to quit. I don’t like this feeling. Do I-do I care about Heather?

I needed a distraction from home but more stress and worry is not what I had in mind.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 01/11/17

So…I want to start by saying this was not how I expected my week to go but it has been coming for a very long time. When I sat down to start writing this update, I wasn’t quite sure how to process all the things that had happened. You’re going to have to bear with me, dear readers, 2017 is off to a very unusual start.

Jason was quiet for a few days after his fight with Andrew and I wasn’t about to push him but I needed answers. Luckily I still had Andrew tied up in the laundry room. He lost three fingernails before he finally started talking to me but he eventually opened up. I was amazed he hadn’t bled out before that. I’m amazed I didn’t kill him after that.

He has a nineteen-year old daughter that he wants Jason to meet. This means he had this daughter while he was still with my sister. According to Andrew, he just wants all of his children to be together. I…I slapped him. Ha. I slapped him and I walked away. You should be so proud of my self-control. Part of me isn’t surprised that this man is such a horrible human being; and yet, I still can’t believe…my poor sister. He’s put her through enough – so I thought.

Instead, I went upstairs, poured myself a bottle of vodka and watched old episodes of Law and Order SVU. Not the most calming show but I was shaking too much to go out kill and somehow, reminding myself that there are worse people in the world was oddly comforting.

About an hour after that, I went up to check on Jason and found him sitting on the floor, fiddling with his computer system. Over the years, I’ve learned that when he’s anxious or upset, he messes with his computer.

Some people drink, some people create work to distract themselves.
I asked to join him and he invited me in. He worked in silence for a bit and then he started to talk me through his task. I hope he didn’t expect me to retain any of it because I fill out the stereotype of parents who don’t understand technology but it was so…comforting to hear my son talk about something he’s passionate about. That passion tells me that he’s going to be okay. No matter what I or anyone else in this family puts him through he will be okay.

I used to worry that Jason would never like me. We had nothing in common and his reaction to losing his mother was to shut everyone out. This twelve year old boy clung to his sister so tightly and I couldn’t reach him. Besides, I was so focused on Sandra and all of that drama. The girl whose curiosities led her to the truth – and to grow up faster than expected – got my attention more than the boy who kept quietly to himself.

When he lost his sister, I gave him his space but then I realized that it was just the two of us. Without Sandra, he had no one else and, while I will always have James, I needed Jason; the one thing I didn’t wreck.

We hung out for a few hours and then I went to make dinner.

When I say “make” I mean, go out and buy fast food. I was in no mood to cook. I knew James would be home in an hour to keep Jason away from the basement so I left him alone while I grabbed food.

I was gone for less than twenty minutes but when I came back, Jason wasn’t in his room. I didn’t think, I just dropped the food and ran downstairs.

The laundry room door was wide open. And Jason was there. He had his laundry basket on the floor and a pair of scissors in his hand. We keep a sewing kit in the laundry room. He hadn’t seen me yet but I saw the blood on the scissors and on his hands.

Andrew was dead.

I’m back.

Now I want to be clear, I wanted Andrew dead. It solved all our problems and he absolutely deserved it.

But not Jason.

When I finally got his attention, he turned to me in shock, covered in his Andrew’s blood. I froze. And then he dropped the scissors and started to cry and I found my focus.

I didn’t speak, I just led him out of that room and into the upstairs bathroom. I washed his hands, turned on the shower and closed the door – I didn’t lock it; I was very careful about that. I called James and told him it was an emergency and then I started to clean up. I got most of the blood off of the walls and the floor before James got home and he finished the rest while I checked on Jason.

When he didn’t answer my knock, I opened without hesitation. He was sitting in the shower, curled up in a ball with all his clothes still on. I cleaned him up, got him into fresh clothes, and sent him to bed. I don’t think he slept but he didn’t need to see this.

We took Jason’s bloody clothes, the scissors, the chair, and Andrew’s body, packed it into the car and drove about 45 minutes to an industrial park with very loose security. Everything got crushed or incinerated.

Three hours later, it was all over.

That was my Friday.

James went to bed and I tried so hard to stay up in case Jason needed me but I dozed off and when I woke up, he had left for work. I didn’t expect him to go but I called his manager and they confirmed that he was working the front counter. He got home right after his shift, went up to his room, then I didn’t see him for the rest of the weekend. I expected this response. As much as I wanted to sit him down and ask just what the hell happened, I knew that Jason would shut down and get closed off.

What I didn’t prepare for was Monday night when I got home from work. He stopped me in the kitchen and yelled at me – really, honestly, yelled at me. He cussed me out for his mother, his sister, his father, for keeping secrets; he blamed me for everything. Then he walked out of the house and I sat on the couch to wait for him. James got home around 10 and made me dinner, because I’d forgotten, and then went to bed.

He’s been working such long hours lately, I don’t begrudge him for needing sleep. Sometimes, I’d like the company and support.

Jason got home just after midnight, he sat on the couch beside me, and we watched Die Hard because it was the only thing on.

Yesterday, he was in his room when I got home and I suspect the same thing will happen today. I am giving him space. I will not push him. He will come to me when he’s ready. I have to believe that. The alternative is that I lose my son and I will not have that.

I’m still trying to fully understand what happened.

I know what happened but it hasn’t really sunk in yet.

Andrew is dead.

Jason is lost.

I’m screwed.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 01/04/2017

Happy New Year, dear readers. I hope you had a good holiday. I spent the last four days violently ill at home so I barely got to enjoy the new year or the time off my boss so generously gave me. I’m not even sure who I should be blaming but I killed a teenage babysitter as she passed by the house. The neighbours have two kids and we’ve known Cassandra for several years now.

Well, we knew Cassandra…

I blame the children. It’s probably Lydia; she emailed the office the other day to tell us she had a sick child at home but she’d still be coming in to work because she’s “dedicated to our work”.

Yes, I still check work emails while I’m on vacation. Yes, Lydia is an idiot. Let’s move on.

I was sick and couldn’t enjoy the new year which also meant that when Andrew came calling on Monday afternoon, I didn’t hear the doorbell and Jason answered it. I walked in to the kitchen to see Jason storming out the backdoor. I asked, in my own way, what happened ad Andrew told me that it was “family business”.

So I punched him.

With a knife.


I snapped. I hadn’t slept in two days, and I was sick and feverish. I wasn’t in a good mental state.

Long story short, Andrew’s in the basement.

James has been mildly supportive. He’s partially concerned with my health, thinks it’s hysterical, but mostly is frustrated with Andrew for putting us in this situation. I’m inclined to agree with my husband. It’s Andrew’s fault that he’s tied up in our basement.

Since the incident, Jason has been quiet. He says he doesn’t want to tell me what Andrew said because he doesn’t want me to worry.

Which of course made me worry even more. Does that kid not know me at all?

I assume the only way to get the information is to ask Andrew in my own way. Don’t worry, he won’t die, yet.

I’m just glad my son is afraid of laundry or things would get very awkward.

I wonder if James and I should invest in some sort of victim storage room. Near the house but not in the house, for obvious reasons. The amount of bleach that I’ve used on that basement floor is going to damage the property value.

The trials of contemporary murder.

In any case, Jason is upset and I’m upset that Andrew hurt my son so someone is going pay.

I wonder how long it’ll take the Johnson’s to find a new babysitter?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe