The Sociopath Who Ate My Cereal

"I had just spooned with Charles Manson's Spawn"

Chapter 4

Lucas used to come over almost every afternoon after school and eat my food.

It was the one thing that stood out to me the most looking back.

He would come in the house like he owned the place. Walk over to the kitchen open the right cabinet, the one with the paint chipping off of it, and grab the box that was dead center.

Lucas would then sit down at the counter open the box. He would reach inside and after a moment his hand would be withdrawn and he'd pop a Lucky Charms marshmallow into his mouth. The pieces of cereal that wasn't a marshmallow would get thrown at me.

I used to get so upset. First of all Lucky Charms were my favorite. In fact when I did eat them I purposely avoided the marshmallows so that after a few days I'd be able to enjoy the marshmallows by themselves happily. So the fact that he would stoop so low to eating my favorite part about the cereal, especially since he knew they were my favorite, make so so pissed I saw red.

Secondly the fact he would throw the plain pieces of cereal at me drove me mad. They would fall to the ground and get everything all messy. I hated messes. With a passion. It actually made me nuts. He knew that too.

Thirdly he'd be in my house. Invading my privacy. Mocking me constantly.

Lucas is and was the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever meet. 

He was worse than an STD.

But before he got locked up he never really seemed dangerous. He was just mean. He would say cruel things that he knew would make me mad.

But I hated to say it I never thought he'd actually physically hurt me.

I've never considered I'd be in a life or death situation. I'm not one to live on the edge. I took no enjoyment out of cheap thrills.

Or at least I hadn't.

I wouldn't realize till I had a sharp blade pressed to my jugular that I had been missing out on one important thing in my life.

Excitement.

Let me tell you something: I can't necessarily say it was something I wanted in my life. Nor can I say it was something I wanted to keep in my life.

In fact I was perfectly content on boring.

I had nothing to complain about in my life.

I was blonde, beautiful, talented and smart.

There was no point in modesty because that's how my life was. I had a mother I didn't hate and I was quite blessed. I wasn't some tragic human being. I strived to be perfect because my life was in fact that.

Or at least it had been.

I felt my blood rush through my body, I could feel my veins pulsate. The adrenaline was coursing through me.

My eyes met his. He was lying next to me, his face directly across from mine. His arm was extended out in front of me. The silver shine of the blade glowed in the moonlight. I felt it gently pressing against the sensitive skin against my neck.