I welcomed the darkness with open arms as I delved deeper and deeper into the void that once could be called a home. The only reminiscence of light came from flickering lights overhead and various other devices that had been left on by my mother's drunken rush to crawl into bed. My hands find their way to the switches, plunging this place into an even darker state than before and without the giveaway of my shadow flicking up and down the walls I invite myself into her bedroom.
I find myself reacting out of habit as I pull myself onto the mattress, sinking into the worn out cushions ever so slightly. Unlike the young boy who made his way here for condolences…I was grown. Grown up and growing tired of the bitch that lay across from me, blissfully unaware of all the pain she had brought on me throughout the entirety of my childhood.
With the bottle of empty booze on her nightstand I knew in that moment she would be difficult to wake, so as recklessly as I dared I swung a leg of her resting figure before efficiently straddling her stomach. I pause for a second to take in the sight of her rising and falling chest, all of her limbs tangled in the stained cotton sheets that were covered in all kinds of disgusting stains.
In the moment my rough, calloused hands wrapped around the soft skin of her neck it's like the gates to heaven, hell and earth came crashing down all at once. My eyes remained fixed on her face, trying to eternalize this moment in my mind. But as if on cue her soft brown eyes snapped open and looked up at me before the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.
Her hands shot up with every ounce of strength she could muster but in return I only tightened my grip, cutting off her air supply in seconds. Those claw like nails began raking down my arms, starting out with loving touches in an attempt to sway me from my intentions of ending her life…but as her panic progressed, the she-demon I knew so very well came out to play as she resorted to flailing about leaving thick gashes in her wake.
Shrugging away the pain I brought my attention back to her lips, smudged with pink lipstick and mouthing only God knows what but it seemed like along with her corpse her final words were going to be buried six feet under.
Only long after the muscles in her throat relaxed and the final beat of her heart had rung out did I release my grip around her throat. The words escaped my lips, no thought needed…I was a man working on instinct, living by the rule of kill or be killed.
"Say hi to my old man in hell for me, bitch."
I'll draw it out this time…savor every second of their last five minutes on earth…look into their eyes and watch the light in them fade…leaving me just about as breathless as they are in the face of their beautiful demise…This will be my last kill.
Yet I know that's a lie.