Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 09/28/16

I spent all day yesterday with my sister. I am going to kill someone.

Again.

She told me on Saturday that she had a parole hearing on Tuesday and “could I come and vouch for her?” For reasons I still don’t understand, I said yes. So I used one of my precious personal days to drive up to the dank, poorly-lit prison at 9am. They saw her at 2pm. And then I had to sit for three hours and listen to inmates, guards, and staff – everyone who’s been with her for the last seven years – talk about how kind she is, and how helpful she is, and how she’s ready to come back into the community.

She has them all fooled; thinking she is anything but a menace to society. They don’t know my sister the way I do. They don’t know the things she’s done. She got off easy with her sentencing. 15 years is not enough. Has everyone forgotten what happened over Christmas? The problem is: I still love her.

When the board asked her family to step forward I realized I was the only one there. As much as I fear my sister, my mother hates her. I was the only one there who could speak against my sister’s release and I froze. Standing in front of those men and women just looking for an excuse to lock her away, I lied. I told them my sister made a mistake. “A momentary lapse in judgement that is now costing her precious years of her life.” I almost threw up in my mouth. The things I said…

The board agreed to grant her day-parole. She gets to spend 10 hours a day out in society “making a difference.” I ran over a woman and stabbed a witness with a pen on the way home that night. I can’t believe I lied for her.

Again.

Even from prison my baby sister still has control over me. I will not let her do that to me again. Now that she’s out, I’m going to be working double duty with all of my obligations and keeping an eye on her. No matter how much supervision the parole board provide, it will never be enough. She will find a way; she will go back to her old habits.

Remember: addiction runs in the family. We’ve all given in to it but she’s worse than I am in so many ways.  I have just been sitting at my desk all morning, thinking about what’s going to happen when my sister is released next week.

I was so looking forward to October because it’s Halloween all month long around here: horror movies, crazy parties, the smell of fresh victims in the autumn air. I love it. It puts me in a sort of…mood. I want to dress up and go on a killing spree.

Or better yet, play a proper serial killer – like the kind in books and movies. I’ve talked about the psychology of serial murder all the time. Not every killer takes a trophy or maintains a pattern. Those are the ones who get caught. But I will admit that the more dramatic ones always make for an interesting story.

That’s what I’ll do. I need to get my mind off the new terror in my life. Maybe I’ll play Zodiac for a while; try my hand at being a more theatrical killer and add some more horror to the holiday season.

I should talk to James first. Changing MOs like this will affect the whole family so I need to give him a heads up first. But I need something to distract me from the hellish day I had yesterday. This could be it.

Or maybe I’ll get a dog.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 09/21/16

Have you ever had a moment of sudden clarity? You spend your life doing something so menial and then suddenly you feel more aware of what you’re doing and why.

There is a washroom at work that has two stalls. I’ve been with this company for…too long, and it occurred to me yesterday that I’ve only ever used one stall. I have no idea what the other stall looks like. For all I know, it’s covered in shit and graffiti; or maybe it’s fitted with the latest robotic toilets that play music and wipe your ass for you. I may never know.

It’s such a trivial thing to think about but I’m choosing to take it as a sign of a larger problem. A problem that seems to be almost annual in my life.

I’m in a rut.

Not a murderous rut this time, I’m feeling quite good about that aspect of my life. I did some beautiful tapestry work with a blank canvas and an old-fashioned axe. I may sell it. See if it’s worth anything. Anonymously of course. Although the money would be nice. Besides, who would care how the art was created? Don’t those new-age types only care about how the art makes them feel?

Anyways, I’m not talking about that kind of rut this time. I’m in a career rut.

I’ve been working in the same field for 15 years and I’ve been with the same company for most of that time. I enjoy the luxury of my position and honestly there’s no point in changing it now; I’m just feeling unsatisfied.

Perhaps a little dissatisfaction is good. If I got my way every time I’d never have an excuse to kill.

And what kind of world would that be?

Just something to think about this week.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 09/14/16

Did I ever tell you about the time Sandra was kidnapped?

I’ve probably blocked it out.

It was the first year she came to live with me so I was understandably stressed and overwhelmed. I remember dropping her off with no issue and then I went to pick her up at 3pm and the teacher said “oh, someone already picked her up. I think it was your sister.”

I was livid. How could her school be so negligent that they let a child go off with anyone they think might be a relative? That teacher has no idea how close she came to seeing her organs on the outside that day. She died a few years later for unrelated reasons but that day, I could not see straight let alone kill. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I kept calling her phone but it went straight to voicemail and I filled up her inbox with texts but nothing came of it. I almost had James put out an amber alert and I was dialing my sister in prison when I got a call from the parent of Sandra’s friend Clara.

Apparently the girls were having a sleepover and Sandra forgot to tell me. Then her phone died and she still didn’t think to call me. I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.  I let her have her sleepover and then when she got home the next day, I sat her down in the kitchen. I think that was the first time I’d ever yelled at her. It wouldn’t be the last time but that was a very pivotal moment for me and Sandra.

I will never forget those few hours when I thought someone was going to hurt my child. It was one of the worst days.

Oh how times have changed.

I’m telling you this story because I want to remind you to be careful. School is back in session and you can’t always be there for them. I have done a lot of horrible things in my life – few of which I regret – but I have never harmed a child. There are people out there who will.

Remember that there are people worse than me in the world. Keep your children safe this school year.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 09/07/16

September 7th

The morning was cold. Too cold. I worry the city has forgotten what autumn means. I wrapped myself tighter in my sweater and tried to forget the early morning wind. I was sitting at my desk, drinking a vodka soda at 6am, contemplating the dregs of the universe when he walked in. All lean muscles and big hands. He was suave, raw power walking on two legs. But he had a troubled look in his eyes; like he’d seen his fair share of struggles on the wrong side of town. Any man knocking on my door at this hour wasn’t selling no good book; he was looking to unburden himself. And my door was always open for a man in need.

I invited him in but he just stood in the doorway with that dumb look and those sad eyes. He said he had a job for me; he’d take me to it right now. I’ve never been one to pass up a paycheque but god-forbid I walk off with some stranger without setting ground rules first.

What kind of girl do you take me for?

Who was I kidding? The man was sex on legs, I’d go anywhere with him. I set my price, I grabbed my weapon of choice, and we walked out the door together. I don’t think I ever asked his name.

He led me to a coffee house on the other side of town that smelt of caramel and old newspapers. This was the autumn smell I’d been missing. Too bad this place was where I’d meet my match. A job that I may never finish with a man who looked like my latest conquest.

He paid for my Americano and we sat in the corner facing the window. It started to rain. He told me a sob story about a girl who broke his heart and ran off with his best friend. I told him I didn’t care but I really did. What woman would walk away from an ass that fine?

So I was attracted to him. Didn’t mean I can’t do my job.

His foolish former lover worked across the street and I caught I glimpse of her through the fogging window; blonde, younger than him, and too thin to carry her own weight. A damsel in distress if I ever saw one, and I saw her; over and over again.

I saw her through the window as she busied herself with her last day on earth.

I saw her down the street as she got in a beat up old taxi and headed “anywhere but here”.

I saw her from the doorway of her apartment as I made my way inside.

I saw her eyes grow dark as the last light of life left those pretty blue orbs.

I saw her photo fall to the floor as I offered my client proof of kill.

He seemed…happy with my work.

Although my contract was up, I had to ask if he required my services any further – like any good business woman would. He responded by grabbing my waist and kissing me long and hard. He took me right there on my desk and I gave in to the thrill.

Now I may never be rid of that man.

Maybe I like it that way.


That was my morning.

James woke me up at 5am this morning for a little fantasy game where we killed the waitress across town getting off her night shift. I’m already at work, I’m exhausted, but so satisfied. That man’s mind just thrills me. Especially when I get to play a 1940s femme fatale in a knock out dress that he picked out for me.

He knows me so well, and he knows just what buttons to press every time.

It’s the one case I’ll never be able to shake.

That man.

Phew.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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