Love Killer

The fact of the matter was he would not experience love again if I had anything to do with it. He in this case was Dominick Rollins, a sly little bastard whose kleptomania spurred him to steal anything from a pack of gum to a girlfriend. I hated him all throughout school, he was not big or threatening in any way shape or form. In fact he was small and frail but had an uncanny understanding on how to make my life a living hell. Getting under my skin has always been easy but he had a way of going deep and exposing my insecurities and the painful problems that I desperately tried to conceal. Elementary school brought petty problems like stolen lunch money and immature name-calling, which started the never ending loathing I had for him. The torture got worse as the years progressed, the abuses got more insulting mentally as well as physically. I was hit, spit on, pushed around anything that could harm me he did. I could barely stand the abuse.

After graduation he excelled in everything he did, while I was stuck at Johnny Rocket's making minimum wage as a bust boy. Girls who met him were tantalized by some unique quality that kid possessed; despite his scrawny exterior no one ever uttered the word “No” to his face, even I could not find the courage to speak up. I do not know why we had a natural hostility towards each other, I perceived it to be my purpose. Other than my hatred for Dominick I had no real passions, just superficial hobbies. God tossed Dominick on this earth to hate me and I was put on this pitiful planet to be hated. I always wanted to stand up for myself and say no but I never took the opportunity, instead I coped. I constantly asked myself why I was chosen to be hated so much and why I was so hateful in nature. For years I wished he would just disappear and now after what seemed to be an eternity I conjured up the perfect crime.

Now twenty-one I looked forward with excitement to destroy the life of the catalyst, which created my depression. Dominick had a cushy life, no worries, this is due to him marrying a rich women in her forties named Tabitha Clive. She made her living as a accomplished investment broker on Wall Street, a philanthropist and socialite. Ms. Clive had numerous large scale non-profit organizations dedicated to AIDS research in Africa. She was a great catch but one girl was never enough. Dominick on one of his numerous Las Vegas business trips got lonely and snatched Celeste off of the street, and yes by the name you can assume she has been around. Celeste was a former Burlesque dancer at a shabby Motel 6 on the Strip, hooked on drugs. Her thoughts were always up in the air and could not distinguish her hallucinations from reality. Nevertheless, Dominick fell in love and made plans to marry after her ninety day biannual rehab visit. Dominick got hitched with that inner-city delinquent Celeste. She carried more disease than any animal yet, beat up or not their new found love overshadowed the cons and they eloped in Vegas under the civil power of a middle aged man dressed as Elvis. Neither Tabitha nor Celeste knew they were a third wheel.

I had gained insight on Dominick's marital plans through Chuck “ Elvis” Hiensworthy and old friend from summer camp, who just so happened to be the person who married Dominick and Celeste. I knew this was the perfect opportunity to get revenge or as I saw it, a little piece of mind so I set up a meeting with Tabitha. Over lunch at Johnny Rocket's I explained to her the recent developments in Dominick's double life. I explained he had married another women, a streetwalker to be exact and that they bought a rundown, dilapidated condo on the west side of Queens. Tabitha was infuriated and joined in the plot to kill Dominick. It was Monday, the target and his raggedy wife were scheduled to arrive back at the apartment at five o'clock this afternoon, it was crunch time. I made my way to the crummy apartment on the west side of Queens where they lived, took the spare key they kept underneath the pot stuffed with plastic hydrangeas and unlocked the door. We started to rip the place apart staging it as if a burglary had just occurred, leaving a note taped to the window in the middle of the ransacked home. The letter read the following:

I’m tired of living like this you are not a man of your word. How can you gather up the nerve to sneak around behind my back with some floozy when you got me, I’m plenty successful and we share that common bond “Love”! Well I’m done Good riddance and have fun with that hooker!! Jerk!!

- Tabitha

Upon return from making it official the “Rollins” entered the house. Shocked to see their condo in its desperate state Dominick panicked running around yelling, “Why?!?” hysterically numerous times. Celeste on the other hand noticed the note first. She picked it up and read it carefully, and when finished became enraged. Celeste charged at Dominick only to be pushed aside but that didn't stop her, she grabbed a large glass shard from the now broken antique mirror that hung over the fireplace. With weapon in hand she pounced at him but was shot at point blank range by Tabitha Clive in a fit of anger.

Celeste was dead; leaving the core problem Dominick to be dealt with. Tabitha walked swiftly and intimidatingly towards him forcing Dominick up against the wall and asked him for any last words while she put her finger on the trigger. As soon as her gun cocked I sprung out of the closet where we had been hiding, loaded my twelve gauge and fired at Tabitha, shattering her skull.

I made my way over to Dominick slowly and saw the nervousness dancing in him causing him to tremble.

“ W-why are you doing this to me?” asked Dominick in a terrified and slightly confused tone, “ I have never done a single thing to hurt you” he elaborated..

“NEVER?” I said, “ You never did anything to me? You made my life hell since second grade, you stole every girl I ever loved until my heart wasn't capable of love any more and drove me insane enough to become a killer! And you tell me you never laid a finger on me or said one hurtful phrase. How dare you lie to me when your life is in my hands. You are weak...”

That was it. I was done, the fool would not and could not admit he was wrong, it might damage his pride. The bastard was asking for it, year after year I dealt with the suffering, convincing myself I was to blame. Creating a mental block making damn sure I would never function normally and developing psychotic tendencies. My promising life destroyed by a man with an ego. This life long insult was not going to go unpunished by any means. I grabbed him by his neck and chocked him, feeling the life seep out of him and I finally felt free. I emerged victorious, I emerged as the Love Killer.