Weekday Entertainments

Small Town Shadows

I live in a small town. A small town that is quiet, tame and full of equally tame life. With the type of kids who are raised under the sun and shown to go to bed before midnight.

Little did we know, there was a an evil lurking in the shadows we didn't know existed in our town.

News reports began running day and night, on television, on papers. Women went missing and the bodies were never found, only ever the occasional pile of ash that resembled human form. It was in my blood to want justice, however my grandfather was the only one with legal authority to do it. He was a police officer, passionate to hunt down the mystery killer, until one night, he was killed too. They say he caught the killer in the act, but of course didn't live to tell the tale.

I knew then, I couldn't sit by and let others risk their life for my peace, so I took matters into my own hands.

I was stupid, I behaved stupidly, cocky and stupid, stupid, stupid. He caught me, the freak caught me. So maybe I should have left the crime fighting to the professionals. I tried to fight my thirst for justice, I wanted to sit back and observe, I really did. For a few minutes maybe, but at least I tried. I was stupid, but I don't regret it for a second.

"You know I'm trying to make you feel special right?" Crumbs fly to my face as he chews a cracker in front of me and strokes my cheek mockingly. I spit at him.

"That, is not very nice mister. You know I'm being very hospitable here, don't be disrespectful." his finger wags scoldingly.

He's like anyone else in this town, pretty, uninteresting, ununique, just there. Mildly attractive, mildly funny maybe, and more than mildly crazy.

"You know you're interesting, you're not a cop are you?" I shake my head no,

"yeah I thought so. Me either, I mean you probably already know right? I'm kinda famous, maybe I'll give you my autograph. I know that'll make you feel real special."

"..W-why?"

"Why? Well cuz, I like staying out past midnight, and I got bored ya know? This place is so boring, just dead. And now they're actually...dead. HA! Isn't that ironic? I thought so. Just the women though, they're the bitches of the town. I hate bitches." He grinds his teeth together, toying with the ropes around my torso. Why is he touching me? Why is he so close? I can feel his breath on my skin, and it's minty. So minty I feel like barfing, he's too normal looking and it's terrifying.

"Me...too.."

"Really? Well then! Let's be the best of friends. Bitch haters club. I knew I liked you, you're like me. Just, just like me, like twins. And you don't even know it yet. That's the best part, when you discover something new about yourself you didn't know was there. Like when I found out I wasn't gay? But no one wanted to sleep with me, and now...now I'm getting all the bitches. Ya know? I am living the dream, do you know what that's like?"

"N-no...tell me about it..?" his deep set eyes scan my body in a steel chair that digs into my butt bone.

"You think you're so smart don't you?" he leans against the wall, running his fingers over his lip pensively, almost calm.

"No.." maybe, if I had said yes, he would've thought I was actually dumb? I don't know what he wants to hear. I can't think of anything he would like, he would listen to. Why should he even listen to me. I can't avenge my grandpa. Was this for him? Or for me?

"If I'm going out of my fucking way to keep you here, talk to you, take care of you, engage with you. Why are you playing with my like that? You're special to me. So fucking special. All of you are. You just have to be. Because if someone is paying me this much to get rid of you, that means you must be worth something. If someone hates you this much, to pay me, to get me out here, to kill you, incinerate you, you must be special. And I want you to know just how fucking special you are, so DON'T FUCKING GET SMART WITH ME." He doesn't move, his voice rises and falls violently and his face remains with a stoic grin from cheek to cheek.

Did he say he was getting paid? To kill us...what would even make me that special. I've done nothing in my life. That's why I'm here. Because I always stood on the sidelines and watched, I did nothing.

Not when they broke into our house and touched my sister. Or when they kicked my best friend at school in second grade, or again in third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, or in ninth when he finally took his life. I didn't do anything when my mom asked me for help to talk to dad, and then they split up. I didn't do anything when my girlfriend told me she felt 'neglected' by me, she left me. I didn't do anything when my neighbor ran over my dog, he was still living. I didn't do anything when dad left the country, or when mom drowned herself in booze. I didn't do anything when my sister ran away because she couldn't stand the hatred she felt toward me. And I didn't do anything when my grandpa died. I'm not doing anything now either. I never do.

How does that make me special. Maybe worthy of death, but not of feeling special.

Our little town has always had shadows. Everyone just did...nothing.

"How much do you get paid?" I raise my head with a grin of my own.