Hey, all! This might take a while to finish (I'm working on my first full-fledged novel), but I thought it would be fun!
Brenda sighed contentedly as she turned off the TV. The news anchor from the ten o'clock news was choked off as he began to make his first report of the night. The fact that it was ten-thirty and the news broadcast was just beginning was as a result of the Miss Hairspray Pageant, which had just gone off the air about five minutes earlier. Brenda had been happy Tracy had won, not so much because she liked Tracy, but more because she hated Amber, and the fact that Amber had lost was more than enough to make Brenda's day.
Brenda entered her small kitchen and turned on the faucet, washing the dishes she had been too busy to watch earlier in the day. The rush of the water was just enough to stifle the clicking as the front door unlocked, opened, and glided shut.
Brenda walked out of the kitchen and started at the man standing in her entryway. She gulped. "What are you doing here?" she said, trying to sound unafraid and failing hopelessly.
The intruder shot her a wicked grin. "I think you know exactly why I'm here," he said. "Let's not kid ourselves, shall we?"
Brenda swallowed. Yes, she did know why he was here, and that was exactly what was making her so nervous. "Why?" was all she could get out.
"Because you're dangerous," the intruder was still grinning. "You're dangerous to my well-being. You could hurt me very badly, and you know what a great self-preservation instinct I have. I'm sorry, darling," he said, moving closer to her, "It was nice while it lasted. It's over now, but we'll always have Paris, right?"
Shelley, terrified, tried to make a move around him toward the door, but he slapped her hard, sending her reeling backward across the room. She fell into the chair that, just a few moments ago, she had been relaxing in, watching TV.
The intruder stuck a gloved hand into a pocket of his jacket and brought out a Colt M1911. He walked toward her. "Now, if you'll just cooperate," he said, "We'll get this done quickly and you won't feel much at all." He reached her chair and knelt down next to her. He waved the barrel in front of her face.
"Brenda," he said, "How do you think this chair would look in brain-matter gray?" He grabbed her nose, forcing her to open her mouth. He shoved the barrel of the gun in.
Brenda felt the cold steel caress her tongue. She looked at the intruder with terrified eyes.
"Goodbye, baby," he said. He pulled the trigger.
The intruder removed the gun from her mouth. He lifted up her hand and clasped her fingers around the gun. He let the hand and the gun drop into her lap.
The intruder moved quickly to the desk that sat nearby. He took a sheet of paper off the top of a ream that sat on the desk and threaded it into the typewriter that sat in front of him. He began to type.
This is Brenda Wheeler speaking. I know that my decision to do away with myself is going to hurt many people, and I'm sorry about that. Let me assure you that that was not my intention at all. Of course, as I said, I know it is a sad side effect, but this is something I feel I need to do. It will be better for everyone in the long run. Thanks to all who have been so kind to me.
The intruder looked at the note. It wasn't Shakespeare, but it got the job done. He took the note out of the typewriter. He was about to set the note on top of the TV when he though that it might be more dramatic to leave the note in the typewriter. He ran over to the typewriter and carefully threaded the note back into it again. He then turned and stole out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
This is a bit short, but the point of this chapter was really just to get the ball rolling! Chapters will get longer from here!
Reviews make me happy (hint, hint)!