How is it already June?
This year has gone by so quickly and so much has happened; politically, internationally, emotionally…
Andrew’s death, then Heather’s drama, then all the little things that piled up after that. It’s actually been a fairly lax year compared to others. I haven’t had a deranged private investigator out to kill me, I haven’t been institutionalized in an effort to break my addiction to murder, I haven’t had to deal with the loss of a child, or of a friend. It’s been a fairly uninspiring year in terms of kills. I hate to think that I’ve hit a rut.
The reason I’ve been a little reflective this week is because I got a call from a detective at the local precinct. Apparently, they’re reopening the investigation into the death of our neighbour’s babysitter and wanted to reinterview all of her acquaintances. I don’t even remember killing Cassandra but according to my notes, I was delirious and irritable from the cold meds and I grabbed her on New Year’s Eve and disposed of her body in the woods. Nothing unusual or worth noting but her case has changed hands and the new detective is starting from scratch. Annoying to be sure but it was a nice trip down memory lane. When I say “nice”, I mean depressing. I sometimes wonder why my life has taken this path. I’ve never missed having an ordinary upbringing or my choice to become a serial killer. But I have days where my life feels so boring or routine. Even on the craziest days, it’s just a part of my life. I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d taken a different path. Would I be happier or calmer, or lonelier? Are there things in my life I could be doing better?
This is what happens when I hit a rut. Don’t let me do it again.
As always, dear readers,