Amara Chapman, an extraordinarily beautiful yet shy, unassuming girl, is torn from her home and all she'd ever known when her grandmother suddenly passes away.
Reluctantly sent to live with her estranged father in Chicago, he wants nothing to do wi...
After my shower, I put on a fresh pair of gloves and toss my bloody clothes and shoes along with JB's, into the incinerator.
I only put people into the lagoon and save the incinerator for getting rid of the rest.
I then remove the plastic from the trunk of my car, along with the trash from my kill room, and toss it in as well...watching the final bit of evidence burn to nothing more than ash.
It's amazing how easily you can erase someone...make it as if they never existed.
For Amara though, he did unfortunately exist, but hopefully my erasure of him will help to heal her wounds. That, and time...
Of course, she'll never know that I killed him, but she'll never be bothered by him, or have to look at his ugly face ever again.
To me, that's priceless.
I finish up before heading home to change into a suit before my day starts.
I'm still riding my combination murder-cocaine high, but don't want to crash, so I pop a few Adderall for good measure.
As we used to say in medical school...Adderall is the breakfast of champions.
I look into the mirror and straighten my tie one last time before I leave.
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I hate to admit it, but more and more each day, I look like my father.
If he were still here, would he even recognize me...the man I've become? The man who now looks so much like him?
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Ah, who gives a fuck? I'm one good looking son-of-a-bitch, literally, since my mother was in fact a bitch on wheels.
Besides all of that, I have Amara now, and that makes me the luckiest man alive.
My father doesn't have shit on me...
It only takes me about seven minutes before I'm pulling into my parking spot in the hospital's garage.
As I'm gathering my things before exiting the car, I notice movement behind me.
I look in my rear-view mirror and see the little dickweed himself...Steven.
