Dear Diary | Proxies

xvii. carving knives

Dear Diary,I really need to learn better self-defense at this rate.

Ben led me down the corridor a bit more before we came to a stop in front of a blank TV. He was humming to himself some stupid song I didn't remember that only seemed to make my nerves worse. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't have a weapon. I didn't even have pants.

The boy tapped the screen with his index finger three times before slamming his open palm to it, and I watched as it flashed a brilliant shade of colors before settling into the image of someone's living room - empty and lit in the glow of the TV screen.

"Madame," Ben teased, throwing his arms out in a flourish of faux formality. "Your murder awaits you."

I pressed my lips in a thin line, hands twitching at my side. God, I wanted to hit him. "What am I even supposed to do?" I questioned, leaning closer to the screen.

"Kill him, duh," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"How, dumbass?"

Ben huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "That's for you to figure out. You're just supposed to go in there, kill the guy, hopefully without alerting the neighbors, and then when you're done, crawl back through the screen and I'll take you home, I guess. That's all my instructions were. Take you one place and back."

I rolled my shoulders, silently hyping myself up. "Seems easy enough. I can do this."

"Yep, and-"

I let out a screech and Ben suddenly kicked both of his feet out, sending me flying through the TV and to the floor of the living room. I tumbled forward, practically rolling a few times, before I landed in a heap. I threw my hand up, flicking off the TV in anger. I could hear his laugh fall from the speakers, muffled and distorted with the static.

I crawled to my feet and staggered for a moment before taking in my surroundings. There was a short hall on one side with two doors. There was a kitchen connected, and I could make out the entrance to the place tucked away into a small enclosed area.

How the fuck was I supposed to do this? I could smother him in his pillow, but that left room for him fighting back before it would work. I could bludgeon him with something I found around, but I wasn't sure I necessarily had the strength for that. Like I hadn't caved in someone's head with my fists. I padded into the kitchen as I continued to think. I could stab him if I found a knife, but I really didn't care for the feeling of blood on my skin again. Still, it seemed to be the best option at the moment.

I rifled through his drawers as quietly as possible, looking for something - anything - that would be decent for this before finally grabbing a boning knife - sharp, thin, and serrated. Also, it was the only one I could find at the moment.

With the knife in hand, I crept towards the hall, trying to stay light on my feet even though I wasn't necessarily sure how that worked. I had to put my body weight somewhere so I never really understood what that meant. I kept my back to the wall, sliding along it until I reached one of the doors. It was cracked just slightly, and I knocked it with my fist so it opened a bit more. I leaned just slightly, peering into the dark room, but there was nothing but an empty bed that had been made up already and a dresser.

So, I switched to the other wall. This door was shut, so I slowly twisted the knob, cringing to myself as it squeaked. I paused, listening for any noise, but when there was none, I continued, swinging open the door to the other room. This bedroom was occupied, a lump of a man on the bed, one hand hanging over the edge and towards the ground.

I held my breath as I crept inward, hand holding the knife shaking intensely. Kill him. Go home. Kill him. Go home. I swallowed harshly, trying to steady my hand and breathing in vain. Kill him. Go home. The man grumbled in his sleep before turning over, and I stilled. He pressed his face into the pillow, straight black hair accentuated by clean, white pillows. Poor guy didn't even know what was coming for him. I was doing this for my life, though. One life or another. Hell, if I didn't some other fuck would, so.