A Descent into Darkness

Driving a "Friend"

"So, you and Nate really hit it off then, huh?" I ask Rachel as the two of us head down the sidewalk, away from the bar toward where my car's parked. I agreed to drive her home. Nate, Veronica and Syed are heading to Nate's place.

"We did, didn't we?" she replies, beaming excitedly. "I mean, I never thought I would see him again after grade school, let alone have him actually want to spend time with me. He deserved way better than how I treated him back in the day."

Don't worry. Once my plan has come to fruition, I'll treat him better than you ever could, you self-righteous bitch.

"What about you, Erin?" she asks turning to me. "Veronica mentioned you've been going on about this guy you have a crush on. What's going on with that?"

"Oh, I think things are moving in the right direction," I muse. "Though, with this guy, it's definitely not an easy path to getting him in the right mindset to recognize I'm the right girl for him."

"Well, normally I would say fuck him if he hasn't noticed you already, but I think I'm the last person to judge how someone goes about their love life given the way I've handled mine," she admits.

We reach my BMW and I unlock the doors with my key, allowing Rachel to climb into the passenger seat. I climb in the driver's seat and we set off for her house, near the Vaughan-Richmond Hill border.

Approaching the first intersection, I see a homeless man on the sidewalk, sitting against a storefront. I watch him, longingly. The homeless make such great victims. They'll do anything for the promise of a few bucks, they're rarely missed, and when they are, the cops don't give a shit. I sometimes wonder why I haven't killed more of them. Maybe it's because they're just too easy.

"Erin, the light," come's Rachel's voice.

"Shit, sorry," I say, returning to focus as a car honks at me from behind.

"You sure you didn't drink tonight?" she asks as I accelerate, not entirely joking.

"Nah, I don't drink," I reply. And for good reasons. One, a serial killer can't risk doing anything that may result in them getting a little loose lipped. Second, as I can testify, the risk of the drink being drugged is far from miniscule.

"I bet I know who your guy is," Rachel says, suddenly but playfully.

My eyes snap back towards the road as I feel my heart race for a split second before relaxing. There's no way her tone would be that calm if she thought I was in love with the guy who had just asked her out.

"I highly doubt that," I reply, having returned to a state of calm. "But I'll play ball. Who do you think it is?"

"That guy you're always messaging. Ronnie, right?"

"Oh," I say, before laughing. "I'm quite sure that, even if I had romantic feelings for Ronnie which, I assure you I do not, he would not be interested. He's spoken for."

"Uh huh, okay, sure. Who is Ronnie then?"

"Well," my voice suddenly turns serious, "back in elementary school, I must have been seven or eight, I was riding my bike along the sidewalk when a squirrel ran in front of me. I swerved to avoid it, but in the process lost my balance. I slammed onto the ground and was pinned under my bike. I couldn't move. I was screaming for help but no one could hear me. A car even drove by without stopping."

I pause, trying to seem a little choked up. "Then this kid ran up, about my age, and lifted the bike off. That kid was a neighbour who went to my school, Ronnie Hammond. He picked me up and carried me home. While my mother was tending to me, he walked all the way back and brought my bike back for me. We've been friends ever since."