A Descent into Darkness

In Plain Sight

I stand there, frozen. I want to Call Rachel back. To ask the girl I'm dating what she and my sister talked about last night. But I don't need to ask her. I know. I hang up the phone.

It all makes sense now. The second phone. Liza's reaction to seeing Rachel, with whom she was at the same school, in the park. Rachel is Liza's drug dealer, both during her addict days and again last night.

Why though? Could Rachel really need the money? I've been in her house. I've seen her lifestyle. Could she really be wanting that badly?

Maybe Rachel is being threatened? The gangs thinking they she won't attract as much attention? My mind entered a phase of rationalization I usually reserve for myself. Because even if there were some actual reason for Rachel's actions, she has still put Liza in danger. She could have died from that overdose today. My little sister. If something had happened to her, that would have been on Rachel.

And on you for bringing Rachel into her life, goes the voice in my ahead.

The thought does not calm my pounding heart. I collapse on the couch, my heart racing, my palms sweating like crazy. The universe must be punishing me. The night after I kill someone, not only is my sister in the hospital, but it's because of me. I am paying for my crimes.

For a brief moment, I even toy with the crazy idea of turning myself in for last night. I could still probably do it and salvage my relationship with the family. Self defence, heat of the moment, was too in shock to think rationally. I'd probably still have a shot at getting off in court. Worst case, manslaughter. Law school would go bye bye. But I would still have a life, right?

I sigh as I realize I may have burned that bridge a mere five minutes ago when I lied to Detective Murdoch about the whole thing. Why did I lie about it? As I just thought, I could definitely have told the almost whole truth and gotten through with a few metaphorical bruises at most. Why did I need to lie?

Because I want to kill again.

Oh right, that. I realize with sadness that, despite everything that's happened today, I still really want to kill someone. And that would be hard in prison. Even harder when I got out and I was on everyone's radar. And when I do kill, I don't want it to be some lame heat of the moment shit like last night. I want a proper, premeditated murder. One I can enjoy. But the question is, who could I possibly kill? Then the epiphany strikes.

I look down at the phone on the floor. Then up at the sky, wondering if I have this whole karma thing all wrong. What if the universe did not just tell me never to kill again, but instead dropped the perfect victim in my lap.

The one I wanted to kill for years. The one who unbeknownst to me, was hurting my family for years. The one who looked me in the eye and said she had no idea what was up with Liza yesterday, and then led to her nearly dying with another overdose.

ANOTHER overdose. Listen to that.

Was it Rachel who have given Liza the drugs the night of her first one? The night of the party Lucas Remar raped my sister's unconscious body? Did Rachel cause that too?

The uncertainty is gone. I'm now full of rage. I'm going to kill that bitch. I should have done it years ago but I was too weak. If I had, none of this shit would be happening right now.

I get up off the couch and head up the stairs, my fists clenched. Entering my room, I pull up that loose floorboard. First, I pull out my bloody shirt from last night and toss it on the bed. I'll burn it later. What does it matter? No one in my family will be home soon and the cops were already here.

I pull out the bag inside where I keep my tools. The same one I brought with me to Rebecca Ross's house that night. I look inside. Everything's still there. The knives. The tape. The hammer. The cutter. And all the other fun stuff. I leave the bag on the bed, and pull out my kill attire, the hoodie, pants and mask. If I'm going to kill Rachel, I'm going to do it properly. Though I should make sure they all still fit. It would be a real hit to my mystique if I was continually adjusting my pants while killing her.