I watched her move as if she had not a care in the world. Her long blond hair defying all acts of gravity and physics by staying out of her face even though the frigid wind could blow over a toddler. Even her hair caters to her needs and wants. I brushed my dull brown bangs out of my face with my long skinny fingers cursing my gene pool. It doesn't matter how hard you work in school, or relationships, looks trump any skill. The girl I am watching here, her name is Samantha, managed to take my promotion a year ago at the news station where we worked at together. I had worked my ass off to become an anchor and after our boss Jim strung me along dropping crumbs of hope that I would actually get the position, he backed out and gave it to Samantha. Personality of a t-shirt , Samantha. IQ of a gerbil, Samantha.
Enraged I stormed into his office and demanded an explanation. It was simple he had said ,"You have the perfect face for radio, but not television." I just sat there, letting the insult seep into every pore on my body. Rage conjuring ideas of a class action lawsuit, or at the very least slashing his tires, but it was pointless. He was being honest. I got into journalism because I had faith that conveying important news and inside stories had nothing to do with looks. I hadn't even considered being an anchor due to my low self esteem, but after writing up countless thoughful, and intense news stories only to have them edited to a pile of ignorance so that "Becky perfect teeth" could pronounce the words, I had changed my mind. Surely, the world would rather get their news from an inteligent plain Jane instead of a volumptuous air head. I was wrong apparently. Case and point, Samantha.
I had never had many boyfriends, although I was in a very serious relationship at that time. Benji and I had been together for two years and living together for one of those. He never complained that I was plain looking, or that my chest resembled that of an eight year old asian boy. I was thankful everyday for him, then enter Samantha. They met at the news stations Christmas party, She batted her eyes at him and used entirely too many hand gestures. I rolled my eyes at her and excused myself to the restroom. When I came back out they were huddled in a corner making out. Yet again, I wanted to cause a scene, and uproar that would put The Bad Girls Club to shame, but I decided against it. What good would it do? She would just laugh and leave me standing there alone, while my piece of shit boyfriend drooled all over her. I went home that night and threw his stuff out in the hallway of our apartment building and put a chair under the door knob to prevent him from gaining any sort of access to the apartment we had shared for so long. I cried myself to sleep, sick of all the "Samantha's" I have dealt with in my life. Then I made a decison, if I can't be on the news, I might as well be in it. I'm going to kill her, and any others like her that I can find.
I am smart enough to pull it off seamlessly. The problem with serial killers these days is the l inability to compartmentalize. That simple. They let it consume them, so much so that strangers can recognize that they are different, that they are hiding something. I am a master compartmentalizer. I have had to be, being bullied at school all day long when I was younger, then walking in the door to my house where my mother would greet me. I had to flip a switch so she wouldn't know how bad it actually was there. She had been sick for years, and her cancer was back with a vengence.at that time. She couldn't fight my battles for me, so I had to learn to hide them from her. The skill of compartmentalization was taught to me by the very people I will use it against.
A plan, that is what I needed. I am good with plans, and I have plenty of follow through. Case in point, I knew when my mother died I would have to maintain an excellent GPA if I intended to go to college, and I did just that. Went on a full scholarship to NYU. My mothers death of course made me sad, but it also taught me to be strong. It took every ounce of strength in my body to convince myself not to just run up and wring her neck right now. I had to get a plan first, I dont want to half ass this and end up in prison. I don't want her to be my last, either.
