Crazy on the Inside

Chapter Fourteen

I had just lost the only real mother-like figure in my life to that maniac. Sarah Essen's funeral was two weeks after her death. I had cried, and cried, and cried. For two whole days, I refused to move away from her office, I refused to eat and drink, and I sure as hell wasn't even ready to go and see her lifeless body laying on the examiners table. That son of a bitch took the only person who made me happy in life. Jim was there, but he had his girlfriend there to comfort him. When I finally got up and moved, I asked someone if they could take me to our apartment. With shaking hands, I got out my key and opened the door. Before I could burst out into tears yet again, I walked in. I took a walk around our living room, gazing upon the countless pictures of Essen and me. Laughing, smiling, having a good ol' time. Going into my room, I grabbed Mr. Kitty and held him to my chest. I had memories and pictures to hold onto now. Walking back into Sarah's room, I went straight to her jewelry box. Taking out the one ring that she always wore when we were away from work, I slid it into my finger. It fit like a glove! It was a simple silver band, but it had the greenest emerald embedded in the middle of it. Now I really had to step up my game. I needed to be ready. For I was going out and probably not coming back. Either from success or failure, I knew it was my time.
I placed the last picture of us in the box and took it to my storage locker. Slipping the ring on my finger again, I locked the door. At least my childhood would be safe in there. Going back to our apartment, I checked to see if anyone was around. Quickly slipping inside, I locked the door behind me. I needed to make sure no body was gonna distract or disturb me at the moment. At one point or another, I'm pretty sure I was going crazy. So what? I had a plan. A mission of sorts. That motherfucker was going down, right back into hell where he belonged. Yes, I was going to kill that bastard for what he did to me. I thought to myself after the funeral a bit about his not so welcoming invitation, and thought why not go? Staring at the weapons in front of me, mostly consisting of knives and daggers. I got up and strapped in my belt, sliding each knife into its pocket as I did so. I took one last look around our home before making my way to the door . I was going to really do this. I could kill him slower, more painfully with my knives. Oh yeah, that sounded sooo incredibly amazing. At that thought, I was smiling like a lunatic. This was going to be one hell of a laugh. For me, that is.