My Dream Boyfriend... Not In My Fathers Eyes....

15. My Dream Boyfriend

Chapter 15    

        I paced my room, feeling scared and excited.  How would I go through with this.  I already had it all planned out about     how to kill my father.  And I already knew everyone I was going to kill, but not how yet.  But I was scared.  Would I really be     able to go through with this, and not screw it all up?  Did I have the guts to do it anyways?  Did I have the guts to actually kill     my father, even if he is a sick horrible b*stard?

        Well, he did kill my boyfriend.  

        A couple days ago, I gave Angel 1,500 dollars, out of my dads stash, and told hime to get 3 plane tickets to     somewhere and leave with his family.  He asked why, and I told him that it wa better if he didn't know.  And, it was.  But the     reason I made him leave was because if I was going to kill all of these people who hurt his brother, and he was still here,     then he would instantly be blamed for it.  And I couldn't let that happen.  

        I was still pacing.  I was serously freaked, just thinking about it.  But I knew it had to be done.  I grabbed my weapon,     and put it under my shirt, in my pants.  The blade of the knif was cold against my back.  I took a big breath, gulped, and     opened the door.  Okay, Deirdra.  Calm down.  You can do this.  I walked out into the living room, silently.  I smiled at my     father as if I wasn't just about to kill him.  I sat down on the couch which was about a foot away from his chair.  I took out my     cell phone, being extra quiet, and dialed my home phone number.  Suddenly, the home phone rang, loudly, and Harold looked     at me as if I was going to get it.  When I didn't stand up, he sighed, shook his head, and stood up.  He answered the phone,     by saying "Hello?"

        I stood up quietly, and stood about three feet away from him.  "Hello?  Hello?  I'm going to hang up now, good-bye."

        "Hey, bastard." I changed my normal girly voice to a masculine, manly voice.  "Look behind you."

        Slowly, I took out the knife and Harold turned around.  "Hey, dad."  And then I stabbed him.  It felt weird, stabbing     someone.  My stomach felt messed up, and I was suddenly light headed.  When I stabbed my father, I never expected the     knife to actually go in, to be truthful.  But when the long shiny blade stuck into his skin and I pushed it in farther, and it just     slid in so easily, I was scared, but calm in a way.  It was weird.

        I took the knife out and Harold groaned in pain and fell to the floor.He crawled a little bit, but i kicked him in the face     and he fell back down to his stomach.  I turned him over, and pulled his shirt up.  Over his heart, I carved a cross into his     skin.  I felt powerful.  

        Then I took a deep breath, and recited a verse from the Bible.  "Luke 6:37-42 'Judge not, and you will not be judged;     condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. Good     measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be     measured back to you.'"  Then, I kissed his fourhead.  I raised the knife over my head, holding it with two hands.

        "You're going to hell."

        I laughed.  "Well, I guess I'll see you there."

        "No.  But you will see your bitch of a mother that I killed.  I shot her, right in that back yard.  She was a nigger lover     too.  I couldn't deal with it, so I killed her."  I was frozen for a minute.  Then I punched him.  Again, and again, and again.  He     was bleeding and just for the record, I punched him again.  Then I got some duct tape and put three layers over his mouth.  I     taped his hands and feet together, and then raised the knife above my head.  The knife peirced his heart, or a little above the     heart.  But I knew I came close.  I stabbed him repeditively.  His mouth was gushing blood.  Then, I placed the tip of the blade     on my fathers jugular vein.  I ran it across his neck and blood poured out.  It reminded me of a chocolate fountain.  I quickly     jumped away from the blood that was cascading all over the carpet.  

                 Making sure I didn't step into any puddle of blood, I opened his mouth and took out a little tape recorder thing that     was in my pocket.  I wiped away the finger prints that was on it and placed it into his mouth.  I wiped away the fingerprints     that was on the knife and cleaned all of the blood off of it.  I washed it with soap and water and placed it in the dish washer.  

        Then, I ran upstairs and washed all the blood off of my body by taking a shower.  The water wqas warm and I wanted     to stay in it forever, but I knew that befor elong someone would be coming over to the house, so i got out and got dressed in     different clothes.  Putting the clothes I wore to kill my father in the washer, I added some more clothes and pushed 'start'.      Then I walked outside.

        "Dad!  Calm down, I'm just going to the store to get some food for dinner.  Relax, okay?"  I played it off.  I prayed that     no one walked up to the house right away.

        I went to the store and got veggies, meat, and milk.  When I came home, I set the food on the table, and started     smiling.  Then, I looked over to where my dead father was.  I started screaming on the top of my lungs.  "Daddy!!!!!  Someone     help me!  Dad!  AHHHHHH!"  I ran over to his body and started crying.  "Someone please help!"

        After so much screaming, a woman ran into my house.  

        "Oh my God." She shrieked.

        "Please call 911."  I sobbed.  

        It was really easy to make myself cry.  I could do it, unlike a lot of people.  But no one knew that, I don't think...

        The cops eventually came, and I was hugging Harold, and they had to pry me off of him.  I was sobbing and it was for     real.  Why did I do this?  I can't remember...  Oh right.  He killed my boyfriend.

        The cops questioned me.  I told them that I was having an argument with my dad, and then I went to the store.  I came     back, set the groceries on the counter, looked over, and found my father dead on the floor.

        "What were you and your father arguing about?"

        "I wanted to go to a friends house, and he said no, I had been going out to much.  So I stormed out...  I didn't even say     'I love you'!"  I sobbed even more.

        "What store were you at, and how long were you there?"

        "I went to Price Chopper, and I was there about... 20, 25 minutes."

        "Alright, now, were going to have to take you to the police station for even more questions."  She gave me a smile,     but my heart quickened.

        Was I going to get caught...?      

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short, again, i know.  im so sorry.  but soon, theres going to be this REALLY long chapter. i promise. read my other story my life is hell, please? thanks! :D