A year passes. I've graduated high school, barely, and am working as a bag boy at Carcer's Grocery. Not a glorious gig, but it paid the bills. Sort of. Dad had died a couple months earlier. He was wasted, driving home from the bar. He wasn't paying attention and ran a red light. At the same time, an eighteen wheeler was coming into the intersection. Dad never had a chance. With him gone, I couldn't afford to keep the house. I had no other family, and Carcer's didn't pay enough to get a place. I figured I was pretty well screwed, until one of dad's steadier girlfriends; Sheila came into the store one day and invited me to stay with her and her son Dan. I didn't want, but I saw no other choice, so I accepted.
Sheila was a decent person. What she ever saw in my dad was beyond me. Dan was a different story, though. He thought he was a tough guy. He hung out with other wannabe tough guys, and did nothing but drink and harass people. When I moved in I became his favorite target. It was the same crap every time he seen me. He'd intentionally walk into me, then say, "Watch it Frog Boy!" Then his idiot friends would laugh and chant Frog Boy, Frog Boy! I hated him with an unbridled passion. He came into the store one night during my shift. He was drunk and in a foul mood. He decided to take it out on me. He started with the usual Frog Boy routine while criticizing my bagging skills. "That's the sorriest sack I ever seen Frog Boy! Can't you do anything right?" The manager asked him to stop, so he grabbed a cart and pretended he was shopping. He walked through the store shouting, "Frog Boy, Frog Boy, ribbit ribbit!" He made regular trips by the check-outto make sure I heard him. He finally got bored of that, and decided to step it up a notch. He got on a PA system and made a store-wide announcement. "Attention shoppers, welcome to Carcer's, where we'll hire anyone! Be sure to say hello to our bagger, the amazing Frog Boy! He's what you get when an alcoholic amphibian mates with a meth whore! Don't get too close folks! Those things on his face are contagious!" The manager got him off the PA and finally asked him to leave. This enraged him. He walked toward the exit shouting profanities. I thought that'd be the worst of it, but then he turned and came over towards me. Without a word, he spat at me, then slapped me hard across the face. A couple employees were able to get him away from me, but it was too late. The Red was there without warning. I didn't hear the voices until afterward. I picked up a large can of refried beans from the counter and stalked towards Dan. I took the can and smashed it into the bridge of his nose. Stunned, my co-workers let him go and he dropped to the floor, bleeding. I knelt over him and smashed the back of his head into the linoleum several times before I was pulled off. I got up and calmly walked out of the store, still gripped by the Red, but now it was more a trance than a rage. I could hear the voices now, screaming at me. They weren't sated.
I walked aimlessly, seeing the world through a scarlet veil. I don't know for how long, but I eventually found myself at an abandoned motel. Well, it wasn't completely abandoned. A car was parked by where the office had been. I couldn't see its occupants, but by the way it rocked like a boat on rough seas, I could tell what was going on inside. I took out the pocket knife I used to carry as I crept towards the car. The voices were deafening now. I tasted blood. The windows were down, and a man's head was visible just above the door. I reach in and grab him by the hair. Then I pull his head back and stab him in the neck several times. The woman screams from underneath him. She scrambles out of the car in nothing but a mini skirt and stiletto heels. Her bare breasts are covered in lover boy's blood. She tries to run, but those shoes weren't made for moving quickly. Her flight isn't helped by the way she looks over her shoulder and shrieks every couple feet. It was a ridiculous sight. I giggled idiotically as I stalked after her. I didn't have far to go, either. She got maybe thirty feet when one of her heels broke and she went down hard. That had to hurt. She tried to get up. She was too slow. She'd made it to all fours when I got to her. I got behind her, yanked her head back hard, and slashed her throat from ear to ear, the whole time still giggling like a stoned Beavis and Butthead. Those were my first knife kills, but not my last. Not even that night. I quickly developed a taste for cold steel on warm flesh. I still had a big, dumb grin as I got back to the apartment. The Red was gone, though. The voices too. Whistling the tune to "Beavis and Butthead,"
I headed for the back entrance of the building. As I was opening the gate, a car squealed to a stop just behind me. I heard the door open and then slam shut. I had the gate opened when I felt someone grab me by the shirt collar. I was swung around and roughly thrown to the ground. As I lay there dazed, a face comes into view. Dan's face, all bruised and battered. "That wasn't very nice Frog Boy! You smashed my head pretty good! Not good enough, though! Now I'm gonna return the favor!" His voice sounded funny, probably because his nose was broken. He sounded all stuffed up and nasally. It made me laugh. "You think this is a joke," he screamed. "No," I said. "What?!" "No, I don't think it's a joke Danny. I think you're a joke. You act big and bad, but Sheila showed me Mr. Scruffy. Told me how you carried him in your book bag until the sixth grade. I didn't believe her, though. I think you still carry him around. Big. Tough. Sissy." I could actually see his rage. It was like a cartoon. His face went beet red, and I could almost swear I saw steam billowing out of his ears. Unfortunately for Danny boy, my rage was stronger. He wanted to hurt me. I wanted to do more than that. As Mr. Scruffy's bestest buddy reached back to beat my face in, I slipped my knife out of my pocket. I watched his fist barrel at me like a freight train. As it connected with my left eye, my blade connected with his kidney.
The punch dazed me, but Dan's agonized scream brought me out of it. He squirmed on the ground, clutching his side. Blood bubbled from his lips. He didn't look too hot. I crawled over to him and forced him to look at me. He tried to speak in between gasps and moans. "Ssshhh. It's ok Danny. Save your strength." "Wh-why...," he coughed. "What's that Danny? Why? WHY?! I'll tell you why Danny boy. Because you're cruel. You're evil. You're a horrible person. You never cut me any slack. But it's ok now Dan. I'm going to make you good. I'm going to redeem you." He clutched weakly at my shirt. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Everything's gonna be alright now Danny." I raised the knife high, then brought it down deep into his left eye. He shuddered once. Then he was still. I leaned over him and whispered, "Now you're good. Now I forgive you." Then I walked away whistling "Oh Danny Boy."
