Your Midweek Update for 08/10/22

When I was in juvenile detention, I had one really good friend: Zainab. She was really loud and kind of pushy but she always looked out for me and he bonded over our love of Shawn Mendes. I never had to hide myself from her. She understood why I killed my foster father, and I understood why she robbed a supermarket afterhours using her shitty older brother’s manager keys. I found a kindred spirit in the most unlikely of places. A few months into my stay there, I wanted to do something nice for her. But it turned out to be one of the worst things I’ve ever done.

I gave Zainab one of my shivs. And I taught her how to use it. I taught her how to find the floating ribs and dig into the fleshy part, I taught her to never go straight for the heart because you’re more likely to hit breastbone. I taught her that cutting off their means to cry or flee was more important than surprising them. I taught her how to defend herself and live her life.

Well one day, a fight broke out in the yard and a guard got hurt.

I say “he got hurt” but he actually tripped and scratched his cheek on the wall. But the administration was out for blood and some people got brought in for questioning. They took Zainab – even though she wasn’t anywhere near the fight – and while they were questioning her, they searched her bunk and found her shiv.

She got blamed for “attacking” a guard and sent her to a “proper” institution. She got sent to a women’s prison down south even though she wasn’t legally an adult and she didn’t do what they thought she did. But she was a threat and a problem they didn’t want to deal with so they just threw her away. My only real friend in that place.

I stabbed that guard less than a year later and I made my escape. But I never saw Zainab again.

And then yesterday, I see her face on a wanted poster in the post office, saying she’d escaped from holding and was wanted for the assault of three officers on top of her original crime. I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t actually realize that people still put wanted posters up. I thought that only happened in movies from the 50s. And before you ask: I was buying packing tape for mom’s boxes – that’s why I (a Gen Z) was in a post office.

But there was my friend posted up there for the world to see. It said she’d run about two years ago but had recently been spotted in the area. I’m still just kind of stuck on the idea that I could possibly see my friend again and I can’t stop smiling. I screwed her over so badly when we were kids and I just want to make it up to her. Even if she hates me or tries to kill me, I just want a chance to apologize.

I could really use a friend right now.

So Zainab, I have no idea where you are but I really hope I find you first.

Sincerely,

Casey

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/26/20

I tried to write an update last week but it was just a series of incoherent swearing. Even now, I don’t know what good telling you will do for me. I feel lost and scared and hurt and angry and I don’t know what to do next.

Heather lied to me – to us – about the reason she called me that day. You remember when she called me at five o’clock in the morning, drunk off her ass, and I drove five hours each way to pick her up? And she told me she was lonely and scared and the police had found her husband’s body but she was ultimately exonerated? And then I welcomed her into my home for months and let her be a part of my family because she was my best friend and I missed her and I cared about her?

It was all bullshit.

Nope, that’s a lie: the day I came to pick her up, she was drunk.

We drove out to pick up some of her things last week – seeing as I was sure that she’d be with us for a while. As I was helping her pack, I found a box under her bed that she tried very hard to keep me from looking in (which, of course, meant that I had to look in it). I thought it would be dildos or a gun or some embarrassing school photos.

It was my journals.

My fucking journals that someone stole while I was on the run with my family. The journals that contain all the evidence anyone would need to destroy my life.

Heather had them this entire time and she never told me. I asked her about it, because I was not about to let her back with my family unless I knew I could trust her. I don’t know what I expected her excuse to be, but I was not expecting her to tell me that she had been approached by the police last year, saying they had proof that she’d murdered her husband and used it as leverage to get information on me.

Apparently, she refused to help and when she wasn’t arrested, she realized that it was a trap. So, she went to the house and searched for evidence of my crimes and took them. She’s been keeping my secret ever since.

Except earlier this year, she was contacted by a woman who said she was with the FBI and knew all about our relationship and actually convinced Heather to spy on me.

That was her big reveal. She’s been recording my family’s activities for months, gathering information. The only reason she hasn’t turned us in yet is because apparently, she loves us more.

That’s what she said.

“I love you all too much to betray you.”

Like a fucking soap opera.

I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’ve seen the call logs and read her notes and it seems she’s been telling the truth – after a few weeks living with us, she cut off all communication. We didn’t do anything of note in that time and we don’t know if they actually were FBI.

Considering I’m not writing to you from the electric chair, it’s safe to say that something else is going on. But I don’t know what to do. I’ve taken Heather with me and we got James and Casey to stay home for the next few weeks. The four of us are holed up in the house claiming a need to quarantine, while I think of a plan to confirm whether or not my family is in danger again.

I’m starting to wonder if this murder business is more trouble than it’s worth.

As for Heather, she’s locked in the basement, well fed and clothed with plenty of things to do. But she’s not going anywhere until I decide what to do with her.

What would you do if your best friend betrayed you – and you had to ability to hide the body?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 06/03/20

Last Wednesday was hella long. As I said, I went to pick up Heather from her house after she called me (drunk) at 5am. The things I do for my friends. When I got there, she was sobering up but she didn’t look well. She had clearly been crying and throwing things and maybe hadn’t slept in a while. I didn’t know what was going on with her but I got her in the car, we grabbed some very disgusting chicken burgers from a drive-thru and I drove her home. I don’t think she said more than “sorry” and “thank you” over and over the entire ride.

And that was a five-hour drive of near silence. I was ready to pull my own hair out. But I didn’t push her to talk even though I desperately wanted to know what happened.

I got her inside, I sent her to shower and borrow one of my dresses (because neither of us were smart enough to pack a bag for her) while I made her dinner. As she was getting changed, Casey came out of her room and I realized I’d left a fifteen-year-old alone without an explanation. Kind of. I called James while I was on the road and explained the situation. He was more than happy to talk to Casey and make sure she was safe before heading to work.

Still felt a little guilty. But she said she understood and was excited to meet a “friend of the family” who knew a little of what life was like for us.

I hadn’t really thought about it much, but Casey’s lonely. She has friends at school – for the short period of time she was there at least – but she doesn’t have anyone to share things with that aren’t her legal guardians. And I am well aware that there are some things a girl can’t share with an authority figure in their life (no matter how awesome).

But first, I had to check on Heather and make sure she was okay before I introduced her to the girl who’s slowly becoming like a daughter to me.

Heather was not okay.

In the wake of my sudden disappearance, she was fired from her job and quickly became isolated. Apparently, they’d found remains over the summer that matched her husband’s and she was questioned by police some time after I left. The whole experience brought back painful memories and sent her spiraling downwards until she eventually called me.

I think I was the first person she’d talked to in months.

I didn’t know any of this was going on.

So Heather is staying with me for a while. She sleeps the couch and we spend time together. She didn’t come down to dinner that first night but the next day, she met Casey and the two of them have formed this wary bond. They’re not all chummy, but they can stand each other and seem content to just sit and play board games or watch tv together.

I made Heather join us for our daily “attempt at cooking” class yesterday and it helped. The three of us got to just spend time together and it’s been great. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her – or other people for that matter – until I got her call.

I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this was going on. I wish she’d called sooner but I’m glad she called me at all. I don’t how long she’ll be staying so I’m thinking about doing some online shopping for her (getting her clothes and other things we kind of abandoned at her place). I want her to know that she’s not alone.

And I hope having her around will help both of us.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe (Seriously)

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/27/20

Of all the people to contact me at five o’clock this morning. It’s like the universe knew I wanted some normalcy and for me, normalcy is chaos.

I got a call from an unknown number. Normally, I avoid them because…obviously (this is 2020).

But it’s Jason’s birthday today. I had this insane hope that he would call – just to let me know that he’s okay. I think about him every day. Wonder how he’s doing. If leaving us was good for him. If he was happy wherever he was. So many times, I’ve thought about trying to find him. But that would only push him further away.

Still, when I got that call, I hoped that he was coming back to us on his own.

Nope.

It was Heather.

Fucking Heather of all people decided to call me at five o’clock in the morning. I haven’t talked to her since we moved. She was understanding and we promised to occasionally contact each other just to keep updated but we really haven’t. This is the second time she’s called me at this number. The first was a text that read “Merry Christmas”. She didn’t call me from her number, though.

That should have been a bigger read flag.

When I answered she was clearly drunk and babbling about feeling guilty for what she’d done. I didn’t realize she was still feeling guilty for killing her husband – that was over three years ago – I thought we’d worked past it. I thought I had helped her.

I leave for a couple of months and apparently, she spiraled hard. She said she missed me – missed having her friend. She needed someone who understood what she’d gone through.

She was scared and alone and drunk at 5am on a Wednesday.

Needless to say, I’m about to do something very stupid. I’m going to go pick her up.

It took some coaxing to get her to tell me where she was but I think she’s asleep now. I can’t leave her like that. I wasn’t lying: Heather is my best friend and, yeah, I feel a little responsible for what’s she’s going through.

I didn’t murder her husband but I didn’t help matters by letting her in on my world. And then I left.

I haven’t decided what I’m going to do when I pick her up but I have a few hours to figure that out.

Maybe I’ll take her out for ice cream? Maybe I’ll bring her back to the house. Not sure yet.

So instead of celebrating my son’s birthday with him, I’m going to go rescue my best friend from herself.

Chaos.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/20/19

Well I killed a counsel member. On purpose. I don’t feel I had much of a choice. Given my former best friend threatened my family if I didn’t. Are these things that only happen in my life?

Honestly, if I had been bored, I might have killed this man even if I wasn’t being blackmailed. He came off as a rich asshole who feels entitled to every thing…and was exactly what he claimed to be. When he slipped me a few dollars to “go get him a drink” and then laughing when I told him I wasn’t a waitress, I knew he had to die.

Luckily, men like that are easy to kill. He doesn’t remember faces and he will believe anything you say if you’re a woman who appears mildly interested in fucking him. Regardless of a wedding ring.

We made arrangements to meet in his hotel room an hour after our “chance encounter” and five minutes later, it was all done. Strangulation disguised as failed foreplay and no discernable DNA anywhere in the hotel room (because I’m damn good at my job).

Except no, it’s not a job. I am not an assassin. Despite what Charlotte may presume. She promised she would be back if she needed anything else from me, leaving me more than a little anxious and worried for what will come next.

The hurtful thing is, if she had just asked, I would have killed for her. She was my friend and someone I learned to trust more than most. I have to wonder what happened to her. I wish I could ask her. But I haven’t seen her since the day I killed the Counselman and now all I can do is wait until she decides she needs me again.  

This is the worst form of waiting by the phone.

The second worst.

“We’ve found what’s left of your daughter.” Still trumps all phone calls I have or will ever receive.

…

Can we talk about how much politicians suck in general? Sure there are some out there who are trying to be an honest representation of the people’s needs and serve the community before themselves. But the majority of them are just ass-slapping capitalists who seek their own needs above others. No wonder the earth is going to explode in 12 years. Or whatever those scientists said.

No wonder I have so many targets.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 01/02/19

New year, same me, same resolve to make drastic changes in my life - a resolve that will be faded by the end of the week.

To be honest, it has already faded so I don't know how Day Two bodes for the coming year. So I don't want to talk about resolutions, I want to talk about this really cool murder I committed on New Years Eve, right as the clock struck midnight.

Why I was killing on New Years instead of ringing in 2019 with my family or friends, takes some explaining.

In lieu of a a company Christmas party, some of the office workers decided to rent out a section of a quieter pub on New Years Eve (relatively quiet considering the date; but it was tucked away and not well known so the crowds were minimal and the service was trying. They served really good fried pickles though). We all gathered and planned to ring in the new year with the co-workers we actually liked and their spouses whom we tolerated - my husband included. Jason was celebrating with his friends but agreed to call a little after midnight to check in and exchange pleasantries. Most of us were fairly intoxicated by 10 and it only got worse from there. Where some of us knew to keep the buzz but not go any further. Others did not know better but they should have. One of them was Bob's husband Carl who hit on or aggressively complimented all the women - we're not quite sure what his intentions were. He was harmless enough but there was a woman from accounting who got very drunk, Katie, and decided to pick a fight with Heather. Something about her botching a sales report last quarter but really, we think she just wanted an excuse to punch someone. I say "we" because James and I still talk about it.

Heather is okay. Bruised and confused but okay. Katie was arrested for assault and public intoxication though Heather dropped the charges in exchange for Katie covering her shift for the next few Fridays. I think Heather was being too nice but then again, I probably might have killed Katie. Oh wait...

So James ended up leaving the party to take Katie to the local station for processing, leaving me alone very close to midnight.

After the little incident, the party broke off into small factions - after the bar manager asked us to leave, we could all decided where to go next. Heather, myself, and one other girl on her own Sara, decided to walk down the street and see if there were other establishments where we could ring in the new year. Now, while Heather and I were reasonably well-dressed for the frozen weather, Sara was not and she quickly gave up the search for alcohol in favor of hailing a taxi and going home. So then it was just Heather and I, and by 11:45, we were fairly...not-sober.

I gotta tell you guys, party drinking isn't a "young person" thing, it's an "everybody who needs it" thing and while 2018 was not the worst year I've ever had, it was worth some shots. Screwdrivers are amazing. Just saying.

So Heather and I are stumbling down the street looking for some place that will take us in so we can ring in the new year and wouldn't you know: someone tried to be a jackass right around midnight. Another drunk someone bumped into us, decided that was our fault and pulled a knife, wanting to take our purses. Don't be publicly stupid, people, it just makes my job easier. Heather got scared and froze - a perfectly valid response to fear - while I got aggressive and pulled both of them into a nearby alley.

It was the first time in a long time I killed while someone watched - someone who wasn't my husband. I don't think it's sexual but there is a sense of satisfaction that comes from doing something so powerful, knowing someone is watching and not feeling fear. And I wasn't afraid. Even if I was sober, I don't think Heather would tell on me. Of course she doesn't know my complete story, and still doesn't, but I think she knows the type of person I am and she supports me. I gotta admit, it is nice to have a friend.

I guess I did ring in the New Year with people. One was getting their head smashed in with a piece of two-by-four, doused in gasoline, and set on fire, while another watched someone get their head smashed in, doused in gasoline, and set on fire. It would have been nice to kiss James at midnight instead of drinking another bottle of wine on my way out of the liquor store. Otherwise, that was an enjoyable New Years celebration for me.

I hope you all had an enjoyable time ringing in the new year.

Here's to 2019 being less shitty than 2018.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/29/18

I think they killed Mary.

I talked to Detective Watts, the human definition of the colour gray, and apparently the case on my friend Mary is still open.

It’s been weeks!

Apparently they’re pursing “multiple leads” but he can’t speak about an “open investigation”. I forget that my husband is constantly breaking the rules. And committing crimes. But when he told me they still hadn’t made an arrest, I went to talk to Mary’s ex’s. All…three of them: Her husband, her lover, and the man she was sleeping with for sexual favours. Oh yeah, and then there’s the woman with whom her lover was cheating. I chatted with the three men, separately of course, and they all seemed mostly heartbroken but each of them had a glimmer of…something. They weren’t telling me the whole truth.

And then, when I asked them about where they were when Mary died, none of them could give me a straight answer that was actually satisfying. Sure, they could have been at home watching TV or out at the bar watching a local band, but even he seemed nervous.

I think they conspired to kill Mary.

They can’t do this. She was my victim first.

Oh that poor woman. Everyone in her life wanted her dead.

Regardless, I now feel compelled to investigate further so that’s what I’ll be doing for the next few days or weeks.

I don’t know why I feel compelled.

I suppose I feel cheated, losing out on a kill I’d waiting so long for.

And maybe a small part of me actually liked Mary. She was quirky and morally corrupt. Just like me. I could use a friend with similar ethics. I have Heather, but she didn’t mean to commit murder. And I have James, who really is my best friend. But I want someone I’m not sleeping with, you know?

Mary could have been that. Before I killed her. Now we’ll never know.

So now I guess I hunt for her killer AND a potential new friend.

What a week.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/16/18

Detective Watts: the human embodiment of a yawn, has actually become manageable. I was expecting to have killed him by now but James somehow managed to get him off my back. He still comes around for dinner every once in a while, but we never discuss – what he doesn’t realize is – my case. In fact, the last time I heard them talk about it, he agreed that there was nothing to be done until new evidence surfaced.

It’s so rare that I encounter a police officer who has a healthy relationship with their job. It seems like that’s all we see in fiction – because “by the book” isn’t as engaging as “handsome rogue” and I know that’s true because I married one – but really, the mavericks are severely outnumbered. For that, Gary gets a pass; that does not make him any less boring. I swear, it’s like talking to the real-life version of mashed potatoes. Fine; but so bland. Remember in high school how you sometimes had that one really plain friend so you’d always look cooler by comparison? It’s the same reason bridesmaid’s dresses are stereotypically unflattering. If there were a male equivalent, this would be it.

I suppose I’m not one to comment on odd friendships. Mary, the woman I’m planning to kill in the next year or so, she invited me over for dinner this week. It wasn’t sudden, mind you; we’ve been meeting for lunch and exchanging text messages. We’ve almost friended each other on social media. Things are moving along nicely. What I’m most looking forward to is seeing her home for the first time from the inside. I’ve scoped out the location a few times incase I needed to move my timeline up but now I have permission to enter her home which I hear the justice system is partial to.

If only they knew about all the other shit I pull. For example: arson. Weren’t what you were expecting, was it. In my years as a serial killer, I’ve ignited several fires. I know others enjoy it for other reasons but for me, arson has always been a means to an end. Namely a way to dispose of a body I’ve just stabbed thirteen times.

I know that it’s not uncommon to find a body or body parts in suspiciously lit fires but what about leaving the gas on and lighting a match? Or semi-spontaneous combustion during an intense storm. Fire is more trouble than it’s worth 90% of the time so you have to pick your battles. Like last week: the ground is now soft enough that I could burry a body pretty much anywhere I wanted BUT this man would definitely be missed and a search party would definitely go out for him. It was actually better to just completely get rid of his body and thus: fire.

Like I said, fire is not always the best option but when it is, the smell of burning flesh is not as fun as a campfire, let me tell you. You’ve got to really need/want it.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/22/17

You’d think that at my age I’d be able to confront conflict and acknowledge emotion but at heart I’m still a twenty year old who has no idea how to find a real balance and happiness with life.

Which is why I’m having such a problem telling Heather that she needs to get off my fucking couch.

I am happy to support my friend in a hobby that we both seem to share but it’s time. It’s god damn time she went home and dealt with the fact that she murdered her husband and I’ve been doing all the hard work. I cleaned her house, I reported him missing, I filed all of her paperwork so she could sit on my couch moping for weeks on end. She needs to start doing something productive. And that starts with her sleeping in own bed at home by the end of this week.

I have no other priorities other than getting Heather off my god damn couch by Friday night. Or so help me there will be another murder.

She got toothpaste on the counter and didn’t clean it up. I know that’s an incredibly minor thing but it’s on a list of 400 other minor things that she’s done in the past month to piss me off. She left an empty milk cartoon in the fridge, she’s stopped folding up the blankets on the couch, on more than one occasion she’s “accidentally” walked into my room without knocking. It’s like living with a frat boy and I’m over it.

The boys have been ready for her to leave for a while now but I’ve defended her because she’s my friend and apparently murder is traumatic but now she’s just pissing me off.

I’ve thought about how to approach her and I’ve narrowed it down to two approaches: “Get over it and get out!” or “Hey Heather, I thought we’d drive by your house today and pick up your mail.”

Like I said: the emotional stability of a twenty-year-old. I’d like to go with the latter but something tells me I’m going to end up shouting the former on Friday afternoon before she leaves work.

I promise that’s not my plan but realistically, that’s what’s going to happen.

That’s not my intention but it will happen.

I’m a bad person sometimes.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

A Farewell to Tinkerbell Part 1

New series. Yay! From now until the end of December I'm going to be exploring different Disney characters in the form of goodbye letters - Dear John, Eulogy, Farewell etc. - so some of them will be pretty hard just because I love my Disney stories. I'll also try to draw a little from the original fairy tales but a lot of it is based on the most common conception of the character.

This project was inspired by the song "Farewell to Tinkerbell" by Edwin McCain so I had to start with Tinkerbell for this series. I would love to know what you think in the comments.