The Big Bad Wolf

It’s storming tonight.
I just got out of that dreaded meeting. My family seems to think that I need to make a “change”. I’m not good enough as is. I do know that I have made some mistakes in the past, but they don’t believe I can do it alone.
I really showed them.
As I was saying, it’s storming. Tonight feels a lot worse than the man on TV said it would be. But who believes those guys anyways, right? I’m shivering, and I don’t feel too good. I need to get the fuck out of the street. I can’t really go home. Not after what I did. Not after what I did to the children… or Mother.
My first thought is to go to Jerry’s place. I haven’t talked to him in a while. He might understand, but maybe not. After all, Jerry and I are two extremely different people. His house is down the street. I can see what seems like walls of grass lining his home. Jerry always was pretty lazy. He’s quite a pig actually.
As I walk up the walk up the path towards the front door it hits me… the look of surprise on mothers face, the horror in those little eyes on Sophia’s face. She was braver than her brother. Ha, her mother would be so proud… No. No. No. NO! Not now! I mustn’t think of these things. All that should be going through my mind at this moment is getting out of this storm. I didn’t notice before, but I am now breathing fast. Huffing and puffing… this sounds familiar.
He doesn’t answer at first. This is making me angry, but I attempt to keep my cool. I keep knocking until he finally answers.
“What the fuck do you want?! Do you know what fucking time it is?” He says this rather loudly. It is making me uneasy. This feeling reminds me of how I felt earlier today when I… oh god.
“I’m sorry Jerry, but could I maybe come inside? It’s really cold out here and I’m soaked.” The look in his eyes was a mix between anger and bewilderment.
“Do I know you?”
“We used to talk. Quite a bit actually.” The fact that he didn’t remember me angers me. It never really ends well when I get angry.
“Oh, well I suppose you could come in and maybe use the phone?”
I just smile and slowly walk in through the doorway and sit on his couch and gently push what looks like a week old pizza box out of the way. This place disgusts me. And cannot be fixed. Somebody must do what needs to be done. In my mind I get a feeling similar to the one I got earlier. It feels so tense and my stomach is churning and there is only one way to fix it. I need to… cleanse… him.
“Umm… The phone is over here, sorry about the mess. Ill be in the other room for just a minute. Make your self at home.” His sentence ends with a cough and a snort.
I know what needs to be done.
I look around for something to aid me in my… quest. I notice a candle on the table. Oops. As I give the little candle a push I walk out the door without so much as a flinch. I wait in the yard for an hour. I positioned myself behind a bush safely under a tree in his front lawn. And wait. I assume that it is due to the piles of greasy food that had consumed his living room, but the fire had spread fast and soon his house was in flames.
I feel good. This is nice.
I suddenly start to cry, but I do not understand why. Is this normal? I am having a moment when suddenly, I hear sirens in the distance. I’m so fucking scared. I need to talk to someone. Someone I trust… Mother. I would like to talk to her now… oh wait. I won’t be talking to Mother tonight.
As the sirens get louder I have no choice but to disappear into the woods behind Jerry’s place. It really is a shame he had to die. He had such a lovely view behind his house. God damn it! I keep getting distracted. If this keeps happening I wont make it.
I can hear the sirens and see the reflections of the lights on this creek. I don’t dare to look back. As I keep walking it only keeps raining. The rain is pounding down on me as I reflect upon the horrible things I’ve done.
I can’t fucking take it anymore. The images of all of the things I’ve done tonight are burning my brain. The look on my mothers face as I woke her up with that knife. That look reassured me that not all surprises are happy ones. Then I remember the feeling I got when little John tiptoed through the door and asked what was going on. His three-year-old voice was so cute. I couldn’t help but smile as I… showed him. Gah fuck! I need to think of happier thoughts.
I need to find someplace to go. I have been walking out here for what seems like hours, when I see a wooden cabin. At this point all manners have left my mind and I have no motivation to think rationally. I creep up to the cabin slowly and I start bashing the door. Nobody comes to the door. I understand if he couldn’t hear me because the bashing resembles thunder and it had been storming for a while now. But this is not the case as I can see him in the window… staring. He is a large man. Why won’t he help me? I am clearly in distress.
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR BITCH!” I really don’t know what has come over me. My heart is racing and I am breathing heavily again. I start huffing and puffing. I swear I’ve heard this somewhere before.
He will not answer the door and he claims he is going to call the cops. I have no choice but to stop. I pretend to leave but when he disappears to the window I come back to the house. I creep slowly behind the bushes until I find a box with a bunch of wires in it. I hope to god that they are phone wires, and I cut them all. Suddenly the lights all go out at once. Close enough.
I knock on the door again.
“Please let me in, sir! I have nowhere else to go!” I can’t fucking believe I'm pleading to this pig.
“Fuck off,” he said.
“You know, you really shouldn’t talk to strangers like that.” I look around for another way in. I see a shed, no doubt with tools and maybe… an axe.
Just as I had hoped, he had a beautiful perfect axe. Super clean and wonderful. I was so soaked. I took off my shirt and hid it in the shed. I hope that nobody finds it.
As I walk across his lawn toward the steps in front of his beautiful home the rain is beating down on my bare skin. It feels wonderful. There’s that smile again. I come to the door with a smile on my face, ear to ear.
“Sir. I apologize for my actions, but please. I’m giving you one last chance. Just let me in.” I am hoping that he will open this door. Even if it is the worst choice he will ever make.
There is no response.
I take the axe to the door and begin to “tear this motherfucker down”. It resembles cutting bread with a knife; so fluid. Smiling again. I creep into the darkness. His house is so silent, except for the patting of rain on the windows and the roof.
“Here piggy,” I yelled. All I could hear was the echo of my voice. I slowly crept up the stairs and into what seemed to be the master bedroom. There he was shivering with fear behind the bed.
“You know, this could have all been avoided,” I said calmly, “is it that hard to open a fucking door?”
“Please d-d-don’t d-do this, I have m-money,” he stammered. “Leave me alone.”
I almost thought about just walking away as I was lowering the axe to his bulging belly. As I finished that thought I said, “This is too much fun.” I laughed and laughed as I watched him scream in horror. My only regret being the staining blood splatter on the extremely nice red wood flooring.
I can hear the police outside. Fuck. I didn’t think about maybe a cell phone. They are rushing up the stairs. No way out. There is nothing to do but sit on the bed and wait for them to take me away. As I wait I look down at the bed. There is a sweater lying here, most likely homemade. Probably made by his mother. I put it on as I am freezing from the rain. I smile again.
The police rush in and order me onto my stomach. As the put the handcuffs on I flash back to all the things I’ve done tonight. My stomach turns. I begin to cry.
I’m in the car now, and we are driving up to the jail where I will be held until my hearing. I like this place. It’s like a big brick house. I am sure I will be warm here. They put me in this room. Alone. It is an old room with pipes in the ceiling. The town is a small one, which may explain the lack of cameras. It is really fucking hot in here, so I take off the sweater. I look down and think to myself. I’ve got nothing left. This is it. All of this is going to end in this oven like room, in this big brick house.
I have tied the sweater to the pipe on the ceiling, and the other end around my neck. Just as I fall from the chair the police rush in. They are too late
I’m smiling again.
Category:Mental Illness