Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.
October 23rd
She got away.
After everything I went through to get her back to the cabin and prepare her for the slaughter, and then there was no payoff.
Now I'm on a rampage.
Not only was I left with blue balls over not being able to finish the job, but suddenly the life I've carefully constructed—all the lies, all the parts of me I've kept hidden from others for more than thirty plus years—is in jeopardy.
Because of one stupid bitch. And because someone got cocky.
I went out searching for Tina after I realized she'd escaped, hunted her for hours, but it was impossible. The woods stretched for miles in all directions and I hadn't even known where to start. Even with her injuries—and there were many—she'd managed to get away.
How the hell did this happen?!
Of course, there's the possibility that she's already dead. That she'd escaped, only to end up wasting away in the woods. Nothing has been mentioned in the news about a body being found or of an attack on a young black female. So, at least there's that.
For the first few days after the colossal clusterfuck that was Tina, I sat glued to the TV, waiting for news to break. I sweated through my shirts, eyes bloodshot, switching from local to national news channels like a tweaker in need of a fix. I drank bottle after bottle of scotch to calm my nerves, because I was sure that at any moment the cops would come pounding on my door, and I'd discover that I'd been given up by the one that got away.
As I waited to be found, I'd devised dozens of escape plans. From my house. From the campus. Routes that would be the least trafficked, allowing me to disappear unseen if the need arose.
I even set up a Google alert with ice-pick as my search word.
It's been torture not knowing what's going to happen next, and for the first time I realize what my girls must feel like as they're blindfolded and awaiting their fate.
The feeling of helplessness is making me want to kill someone.
Of course, with the botched attempt fresh in my mind, I know it's not the best time to choose another girl. If the cops are already following me, they'd be given proof of my guilt if I acted out now.
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Serial
HorrorEmmy's life is going just as she'd planned: She's living in her own apartment, dancing every day and is just leaps away from being named her company's next Prima ballerina. And she's only 17. But all of Emmy's plans come to a screeching halt when th...
