Harboring A Fugitive

Chapter Two

The Plan

♡

I kept sitting there and smiling in thought until I decided to get up and get dressed.

I threw the covers off of myself and shuffled over to my dresser. I rummaged through the heaps of clothes until I found my black Nyan Cat shirt and pink Adidas sweatpants.

After I finished dressing, I crawled into my hiding spot in my closet.

I searched for my...

"Aha! Motherfucker was hiding!" I whispered, so Dad wouldn't hear me. This is a small house, everything echoes.

I opened my mother's old jewelry box and pulled out a meat cleaver.

"Hmm." I hummed as I twirled the weapon in my hand. I noticed the blade was dull.

I grabbed a water bottle filled with mineral oil and a two sided stone from the jewelry box.

I turned the rock rough side up and smeared the mineral oil on it, then slid it against the blade.

After I was sure the meat cleaver was sharp enough, I placed my finger on the edge of the blade.

"Shit!" I yell-whispered, wincing.

Immediately, I took my finger back and sucked on it, enjoying the metalic taste of blood on my tongue.

As I waited for the bleeding to stop, I took a picture of Mom out of the jewelry box.

"So much has happened since you died. Dad has turned into an abusive alcoholic, Domo moved to America, and Germany won against Argentina in the World Cup!" I said to her picture.

"But don't worry about Dad... He'll be with you, soon." I smiled.

I thought for a minute. "No, he will be in Hell. You are in Heaven."

I stared at the meat cleaver.

"When I'm eighteen, I will rid this world of a sin that was born after an angel died. I will send him to where he belongs, back to where he came from..." I picked up everything and put it back in the jewelry box.

I crawled back out of my closet and shut the door.

It was 1:30, according to my phone. Well, at least I don't have to go to school.

After Mom died, I dropped out. I decided I didn't need anymore stress in my life.

I grabbed my earbuds and plugged them into my MP3 Player, turning the song to 'You're Going Down' by Sick Puppies.

As I walked out of my bedroom, I spotted my lousy father dozed off in his armchair, with four emptied cans of Einbecker.

"I'm going for a walk." I said, not caring if he was asleep, or dead.

With that, I left the house.

Walking down the street, I counted the days left until my birthday.

14 days.

I smiled, the same smile I had this morning.

The reason why I am waiting until I am eighteen to kill him, is because when I am eighteen, I get to live on my own. So I can sell that house and live somewhere else.

I could probably move to America, and find Domo. Possibly live by her. Then I could have a friend to talk to.

I don't have any friends because I dropped out of school, and in school, Domonique was my only friend. And I don't go out much, I either take a walk or hide in my closet, waiting.

Waiting for love. For happiness, for laughter and excitement besides the thrill of preparing for murder. Technically, waiting for an actual life.

I already know what going to happen when I kill him. I made a To-Do List for it.

I pulled it out of my pocket:

1. Kill him
2. Call 911
3. Confess
4. Go to jail

I shoved it back in my pocket.

Maybe I'll make friends in there. We'll be friends and share things, like cake.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"You're stupid enough to want to share a piece of cake with another prisoner." I said to myself.

A lady jogging heard me and gave me a strange look.

I waved with a smile. "Want some cake?"

She jogged faster. I silently laughed and turned around, going back home.

I love being creepy.