Your Mid-Week Update for 12/28/16

I hope everyone had a great holiday. I had a fantastic time. I endured a fifteen minute phone call with my mother, successful ignored my sister’s and my brother-in-law’s separate attempts to invade my family celebration, and managed to get the rest of the week off. I am free until the New Year and lord knows humanity needs a fresh start.

This has certainly been a crazy year.

Between Charlotte, and Heather; David Bowie, and Carrie Fisher; Donald Trump: I haven’t experienced such a roller coaster in quite a long time.

On the 23^rd (Friday), I was called into Ron’s office just as I was about to leave for the weekend. Now, Ron is a friendly enough person in the office. He’s not someone you want to go for drinks with after a long, hard week but the man’s an amicable boss with only a minor death wish (as all humans in my presence have). So when he called me in for a “quick chat” I wasn’t worried. Mostly curious. I was anxious to get home and have a festive but quiet evening with my family and the sooner that started, the happier I would be.

“You’ve been working hard, despite your injury.” He said. “Take the rest of the year off.”

Why didn’t he tell me this back in February?

So in lieu of a bonus, I get paid vacation. Paid vacation that I would have taken anyway. Why do I feel like the staff is missing something? I hate that we’re not being told the whole story.

In any case, I’m off until January 2^nd. I don’t know what I’ll do with all my free time. Other than the obvious: drink, kill, watch TV, rinse and repeat.

Which reminds me.

The versatility of lead pipe is astounding. Not just bludgeoning; you can ram it down your victim’s throat and force feed them arsenic; you can force them against the wall and crush their windpipe; endless opportunity for creativity. It’s been a very entertaining week.

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, I answered the door to find my sister tearing me a new one because Andrew called her parole officer looking for her. How he got anyone’s number I’ll never know. But now my sister is terrified and I want to comfort her but I didn’t let her in for Christmas. After she left, I had a lengthy discussion with her PO about the situation and she agreed to keep an eye on my sister over the holidays. I haven’t heard anything so I assume everyone is all right.

I did get a concerned call from my mother Christmas morning asking why my sister was crying over her breakfast. I assured her that everything was under control, she forgot to wish me a Merry Christmas, and then hung up. Overall, the nicest conversation I think I’ve ever had with my mother.

And then…

AND THEN!

Andrew showed up Sunday night with a baseball bat thinking it would gain him entry into my household. James respectfully showed him the door with his fist and we haven’t heard from him since. I can only assume the worst.

Funny how that happens.

The only stressful thing to come from Christmas is that I finally had to tell Jason about his father. He was quiet the rest of the night and then Monday afternoon, he came into the kitchen where I was washing dishes and he told me that he wanted to meet his dad. I won’t refuse his request but he knows that he’s coming home with me at the end of the day. I have no way of contacting Andrew but I’ve promised Jason that next time he shows up, I’ll let him inside.

For my son.

It’s always for my son.

Or for me.

I care a lot about my well-being as well.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/21/16

Fucking Andrew fucking FUCK

He followed me home.

He knows where Jason is. He has access. And it’s all my fucking fault.

When my sister was sent to prison and I got custody of the kids, I became responsible for essentially renewing the restraining order. I was so distracted when Sandra passed away that I…I didn’t. I completely forgot. And now the order has lapsed and Andrew is coming after my family.

Security at work has strict instructions not to let him in the building and poor Heather got harassed on the way home yesterday so I’ve given her the day off. I actually feel so bad for her. Between Andrew and Lydia, that woman has had no breaks. And on top of that, my boss decided we didn’t need a Christmas Bonus this year. I’m going to do something nice for Heather.

Oh my god, listen to me. I want to be nice to Heather?

I blame Andrew.

It’s very easy to blame Andrew when I don’t want him in my life.

I just hate him. I hate what he’s done to my family, I hate that he wants back in. I still haven’t told Jason. He deserves to know but I just can’t bring myself to tell him. I don’t want to ruin his holiday. I’m too tired to ruin his holiday.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. The pain in my side wakes me up in the middle of the night. I am so done with this injury. I just want to be better. Now I’m tired and sore all the time. Christmas sucks.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/14/16

Alright, dear readers, gather ‘round; I’m gonna tell you a story.

About twenty years ago, my sister and I were both roaming the streets, looking for our next victim. We were good at staying out of each other’s way and I can admit now that my sister was way better at her job than I was – at the time. She once did it across the street from the local police station without so much as an unreliable witness. She was good; great, even. You’ve heard me say that all before.

But everything changed when she met Andrew.

He was something so trivial – like a cashier at the supermarket – that I don’t even remember exactly what he did. He was slated to be my sister’s next victim but somehow, he charmed his way out of it and instead, they started dating. He never knew how close he came but after three months of seeing them together, I was about ready to kill him.

Andrew was a sadist if ever I saw one. And more than that, my sister knew it. She knew from day one that her boyfriend would sooner or later turn on her. But she was young and impressionable and he hadn’t done anything yet. He quit his job not long after meeting her and spent his time, using up her savings and taking control of her every move.

The day she brought him home for the first time, I was floored by how manipulative and cruel he was to my sister without her realizing it. I said this then and I’ll repeat it now: I hated Andrew from the very start.

When she became pregnant, I was terrified for my sister and her baby. Andrew wasn’t happy about being “tied down” four months into their relationship and he made that perfectly clear to anyone who could see my sister’s dislocated shoulder and bruised ribs.

The only reason he didn’t die the day I found out is because my sister begged me not to and I was stupid enough to believe her. I will never make that mistake again.

Just before Sandra was born, the two of them snuck away in the middle of the night and got married. I cried. I drove for three days just to find a fresh kill zone where no one would think to look for me. They still haven’t recovered every body from that park all those years ago.

I tried to take my sister and Sandra away from Andrew; we drove to a women’s shelter so far north, I couldn’t even pronounce the name of the town. But he found her and forced himself back into our lives. And all the while, my sister stopped doing her life’s work because it meant Andrew couldn’t keep tabs on her.

She was my sister and I saw her hurting; I know that what I’m saying sounds biased and exaggerated but she’s my baby sister and no matter how I think of her now, no one is allowed to hurt her. Andrew never knew what I did but he knew that I was protective and would perpetually get in his way. We always fought over my sister like she was a doll but I don’t regret fighting for her.

Through some miracle I have never been able to recreate, my sister came to her senses after Jason was born. She divorced Andrew and got a restraining order for her and the kids which she and I updated every 5 years. He wasn’t allowed in the same neighbourhood as them. He wasn’t allowed to attend the custody hearing when my sister was arrested. He wasn’t allowed to attend Sandra’s funeral. And no one batted an eyelash. I haven’t given him a second thought in 18 years. Best of all, she went back to doing what she loved. Maybe that time away from her craft is why she grew careless and got herself caught.

I tell you this because yesterday, the man came back to my office but this time I was there. He refused to leave the building until he spoke to me so I caved and went down to meet him.

Andrew is back.

I’m not listed on the initial restraining order so he can harass me all he wants. Now that I’m no longer Jason’s legal guardian, he wants my son’s contact information. When I refused, he threatened me with physical harm and without blinking, I threatened him right back.

I saw no fear in his eyes when I threatened to make him eat his intestines and lose each of his fingers and toes while he perpetually swallowed and vomited his own tongue for several days. I saw a challenge in his eyes. He’s not the same rabid dog I could kick when he misbehaved. He thinks he can get what he wants from me. He thinks I will fear him.

I’d love to see him try.

It’ll be a nice relaxing weekend. Making Andrew pay for his hubris.

I haven’t told Jason yet. The boy has never met his father and I don’t intend to change that. James is on my side completely, but he and I disagree about one thing. I don’t want to tell my sister. He seem to think she deserves a word of warning but I don’t think she needs any more stress in her life. She’s trying – I can tell – to keep on the righteous path. But I know from experience that changing a part of your essence is not easy. I know my sister’s bad habits are discouraging but I want to see her better. Andrew will not help her.

You agree with me, don’t you?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/07/16

I think my sister is going back to her old ways. I don’t know for sure and part of me doesn’t want to condemn her right away but the rest of isn’t remotely surprised when I have to pick her up from a freezing back alley downtown so she doesn’t have to call her parole officer. It’s the first time since she’s been released but that doesn’t mean it’s the first time it’s happened. I knew my sister very well at the height of her criminal career, I know the signs when she’s headed down this path again. But we’re both different people than we were ten years ago – this city is different.

Alright, that sounds incredibly clichéd but I’m not wrong. Ten years ago, we were in an economic boom, unemployment was at an all-time high and we didn’t know it yet but we had one of the most corrupt and morally bankrupt Mayors of all time. Now temperatures are up, pricing is up, and our Mayor is a joke but at least he’s an honest one. I don’t know if this city could handle two villains prowling the streets every night.

This is what I feared when my sister said she was rejoining society. Total chaos.

To be fair, it hasn’t happened yet; and I know, I know, I should give her the benefit of the doubt. But I’ve been down this road before. I won’t walk it again. If she skips curfew again and brings me into her lies, I won’t hesitate. She’s my sister and I love her but we’re all safer with her behind bars.

Naturally, out of frustration, I took a walk after I dropped my sister off and ended up in a darker part of town. Every neighbourhood can be a bad neighbourhood with the right spin but when the city doesn’t bother to replace the streetlights when they burn out, that’s when you know you’re in trouble. They’re easy targets. Everyone on that street is looking for a victim, not a fight. They don’t expect to one from a woman walking alone. So when I do end up in the darker parts of town, I always play the part; it’s routine by now. I carry my keys in my fist, ready to strike at whoever comes too close, I have a hand in my pocket over what looks like pepper spray but it’s just perfume. And then some twenty-something white kid who thinks he’s tougher than he is comes up behind me and I start walking a little faster. So does he. I turn a corner. So does he. I turn into an alley away from prying eyes. So does he. Just as he’s about to strike, I strike first. It’s over in an instant and the statistics for gang-related deaths goes up.

This time was a little different. I followed my routine to the letter but then I started thinking about my sister and I got distracted. Suddenly I was backed into a corner with my keys in my hand and I’d lost the advantage. So I swung. And he was bleeding so I thought I’d gotten the advantage back but then I saw the damage and I just started laughing. I’d stabbed him in the eye with a key. He was screaming but there wasn’t a lot of blood. Then he was lying on the ground motionless so I grabbed the key and ran away.

Except…

The key got stuck. So I pulled. And then the eyeball came with it. Then there was a lot of blood.

The news said he died of a heart attack but they aren’t sure why his eye is missing so they’re opening an investigation.

It’s sitting in a pickle jar in my sink. I don’t know what to do with it. When I brought it home, James just started laughing and he still has no idea what to do with it. I just…there’s an eyeball in my bathroom and I have no idea what to do with it.

Should I flush it down the toilet? Sell it? Keep it as a trophy?

Any ideas, dear readers?

That’s not even the most dramatic thing that happened to me this week.

I think a figure from my past is coming back to haunt me. Someone came to my office last week, asking for me and refused to leave until my boss came down and escorted him from the building. I was still in the hospital so I got a call from Heather. She sounded frazzled and it takes a lot to frazzle that girl. There are two men who I think could do that to her and her ex-husband is still out of town arranging a new life. If that means what I think it means, I have every right to be very worried.

Pray for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/30/16

So a lot has happened in the last two weeks.

About five minutes after I posted my update last week – you know the one where I said nothing ever happens and I hate it? – I collapsed on the stairs at home and was rushed to the hospital. Apparently I had an infection from the gift that keeps on giving. They’re keeping me for a few more days so I have to make this update brief. They’re threatening to confiscate all my electronics if I don’t stop working.

I hope this wound heals soon. At this rate, I’ll be on a first name basis with all the attendants come Christmas morning.

Speaking of Christmas.

It’s an early miracle; my mother isn’t coming, my sister isn’t coming, my mother-in-law isn’t coming. For the first time in, what must be decades, it’s just going to be my immediate family. James, Jason and I will have a nice, QUIET, dinner. I cannot even imagine what that silence will feel like.

Shit, the nurse is coming.

One last thing: Lydia has to die. Every day that I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve gotten a “reply all” email from her about trivial things. Like cleaning out the fridge or finding a bug in her cubicle. She even sent an email to the entire office about my hospitalization wanting to send flowers or some bullshit.

She has to go.

As do I.

Nurse Jackie has Jell-O.

Remind me to tell you about Nurse Jackie next week. She’s insane.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/23/16

I have nothing to report this week.

You ever notice that when I say I have nothing to report, I end up with some revelation or long-winded update? I promise, that isn’t the case this week. Nothing has changed. Sometimes weeks move so quickly that nothing significant can happen. That’s the way life works.

Sometimes I don’t like it.

I don’t like a lot of things.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/16/16

I think my sister has officially stopped trying to talk to Jason. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I think she’s finally starting to move on with her life. That’s really all I want for my sister: to stop clinging to the past and make a fresh start; without falling back into her old criminal ways, or trying to steal my son.

Okay, we all know that’s bullshit. I just want my sister to go back to jail – without actually having a hand in it – but please don’t make me say that out loud. I could really use a win right now.

Lydia, my nosey new coworker, has been snooping around Heather lately. Apparently, they have “so much in common” and should “definitely have drinks after work on Friday”. I will not let this woman steal Heather away from me. I’ve grown fond of the bitch and we’ve bonded over the last few months. No one can destroy that weird co-worker friendship we have. So, what if I sound insecure; that is my right as a human being. Heather and I have history; and the fact that I haven’t killed her after all these years together must be a sign that I need her in my life. Oh my god, I’m being protective of my friend. That is such a weird feeling for me to have. One more slip up and Lydia dies.

Jason came home on Thursday to tell me that he failed all but one of his midterms. I’m less upset that he failed and more worried because it seems like he didn’t even try. James and I went to all this trouble of setting him up with a psychologist who’s been working on concentration techniques to combat his natural urge to wander. We worked with his college to make sure he was given proper time and a distraction-free environment for testing. We even took him to a doctor to discuss his medication options. He didn’t use any of the tools we provided him. He didn’t set up a separate exam time in a special room, he didn’t use any of the tricks the psychologist taught him, he didn’t even study. He was working on his computer all night. I remember seeing him rewiring some part of his cheap secondary computer with his text book open, going through notes. But he didn’t translate that to the classroom. All he had to do was try. This kid is going to cost me a fortune in education, I just know it.

James is fine – at least I thought he was fine. Until he came home Saturday night after having too many drinks with the boys and confessed that he worships me. It wasn’t that he said it, it was how he said it. So desperate and sad. It broke my heart just to hear him say it. Like there was something wrong. Something he’s not telling me. Or maybe he was just drunk and blathering. That’s not the first time he’s used the word “worship”. That was the beginning of our whole relationship. I loved the convenience of a cop who admired me and he was great fun between the sheets. And then I fell in love and I thought we’d moved past that phase.

There has to be something he’s not telling me.

I asked him about it the next morning and he says he doesn’t remember. I need to stop obsessing over things like this. That’s how you end up in the psyche ward at 2am. Again.

Aren’t you glad we’re past all that paranoid bullshit with Daniel?

Yeah, me too.

Look, all I’m saying is that it’s been a very emotional week and I just need someone to lie to me; in lieu of that, I’ll lie and tell myself that I’m justified in taking two hands this week because I’ve found I really like the motion of severing body parts.

I know to be careful and not do that for every victim but it wouldn’t kill me to add a little spice to my repertoire once in a while. Try a new method for a while. Decapitation and dismemberment is one I haven’t really played with since my late twenties. Maybe I’ve still got it.

Let’s focus on that for now instead of Lydia and Heather’s budding relationship, and Jason’s expensive winding road to education, and James’ obvious secrets. Yes, let’s focus on the positive; limbless corpses.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/09/16

In my 20+ years of violently interacting with humanity I’ve survived with a minimal amount of scrapes and bruises. I had an injury-free childhood. The occasional swimming lesson and playground antics were hardly cause for a trip to the hospital.

I think the worst I ever had it was when I was 7 or 8. I fell backwards off the monkey bars and hit my head on a metal railing. I regained consciousness just as the ambulance arrived at the hospital and I had to stay overnight for observation but I was completely fine, except for a small bruise on my neck that lasted for a month. My mother never let me go back to that playground. We had to walk an extra ten blocks just to find another one – and the swing set sucked.

For the first few years of my career shift into murder, I made more than a few anonymous trips to the emergency room but nothing that ever left a scar. My left leg is still sore after that car accident a year and a half ago. And then there was the gash on my hand that I totally blame on Heather. That one left some definite scarring but it still healed fairly quickly. Not to mention the thumb that I absolutely dislocated – or at least severely bruised – over the summer.

Nothing compares to this.

I was released from the hospital within two weeks of being admitted and the doctors say I’m healing well, but there’s this stinging pain in my side constantly. And…I can admit to you, dear readers, that I’ve developed this reflex lately. Any time someone passes me on my side, I flinch; and I get this shiver up my spine. I freeze.

I know it’s just an instinctual reaction – my body protecting me from getting hurt again – but it’s an annoying feeling. Like I’m out of control. I can’t wait for my body to heal properly so I can move on.

In the meantime, I’m back at work, showing off my scar and accepting sympathy visits from all my coworkers. I’m killing, thought slightly less so as to not reopen my stitches, and I’ve decided to keep up the serial killer gimmick but cut it back to once or twice a month. Just, whenever I get bored.

I can feel the holidays winding up after Halloween which means snow, and stress, and crowds of people. I’d better be healed by the time things really get started. Christmas shopping is one of my favourite times to do a little snatch and grab kill. Robberies, car jackings, accidents. The crowds make it so easy.

I’ve still got a few weeks to properly heal. It better heal quickly.

I’m through with the myriad of injuries I’ve endured this past year. It’s time to move on.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/02/16

I am so sorry, dear readers; I can’t believe I posted whatever nonsense that was last week. Actually, I can believe that, I just can’t believe my husband would let me. You see, I spent most of Monday night until Friday afternoon in the hospital but I had my laptop with me and I remember opening it early Wednesday and then the nurse coming in...and that’s all. It wasn’t until hours later that I realized I had posted my morphine-induced ramblings. Thank you all for your concern, I’m feeling much better now.

It’s entirely my fault, I know that. I can still be frustrated with the situation. I was fending off a rather aggressive victim when he managed to stab me with my own knife. I may have been a little overzealous with his kill but I was also bleeding from a stab just below my ribs. Nothing fatal, obviously but it did cause me a lot of pain and so while I was starting to bleed out, I quickly called James from a nearby payphone and walked myself to the hospital four blocks away.

I claimed a man tried to mug me but I got away from him and that’s around the time I passed out from shock and blood loss. I woke up a little less than a day later to find James sitting at my bedside and a nurse tending to my wound. According to her I was very lucky to have survived my ordeal as well as I did. Apparently the stabbing was all flash and no damage. I lost almost 3 pints of blood but no organs were damaged and ribs are completely unharmed. Almost like it was made by someone flailing about who happened to slice across my side.

Didn’t make it hurt any less.

The police arrived shortly after to take my statement of events, to which I quickly recounted before a nurse ushered them away so I could get my rest. I remember James kissing my forehead and telling me it’s all taken care of so I can only assume that the crime scene is spotless and he cleaned up yet another one of my messes. That man is too good for me. He stayed with me every night while I was in the hospital, trusting Jason to take care of himself for a few days – even drove the kid to see me a few times. I could tell Jason was worried but didn’t want to show it. I thought it was sweet, actually. I believe that was Wednesday evening when I was at the height of my hospital-grade pain killers which probably didn’t help my boys’ with their worries.

I reread what I posted last week and I can’t make sense of most of it. I know last week is usually my Halloween/Horror-themed post so it was kind of fitting, wasn’t it? A little glimpse into the back of my psyche.

I don’t think anyone wants to visit that place again anytime soon.

But I can assure you, dear readers, that I’m recovering well. The doctor said I still have to get checked out in a few days to makes sure I have no infections or the like. I’m also at risk of ripping my stitches if I perform any rigorous activity which means James has been sleeping on his side of the bed, and I’ve abstained from murder for the last week or so.

I’ve gotten much better at controlling my urges the past few years. A week or two away from my craft won’t drive me insane the way it used to. The only problem now is the “Hand of God” or “Hand to God” killer (I can’t remember which). Should I keep it going as a side project or just let it go all together? It was only meant to be an October project and we’re officially into November. Besides, I didn’t even get to finish October with the victims that I wanted. Maybe I’ll just take it to the end of the year and then see how it goes.

Sound good?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 10/26/16

Round and round the merry go round.. Allude WALKING BACKWARDS TOWARDS THE SUNSET. What is blue? I see wolves leaping over trees Watermelon everywhere. Wrath of the gods raining down up the enemies of watermelon. Native souls of the island will be purged to make way for my glory. Everyone is just dead. Au=ion cantaloupe elope elope elope you sit on a throne of lies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you’re a weasel, Can’t stop me now. Cause we’re havin a good time, haavin a good time polepot? No, you’re wrong. Why would put carrots in that? Too many people. Too many ideas floating round in my head. Like little spots floating in Jell-O. Dogs nipping at your heels bodies dropping from the ceiling always coming down down down. What are you doing here? Why are you saying that? I can’t believe you’d do that. Oh my god not the giraffe. George Washington’s nurse is here. She is so sweet. She smells like pistachios. And chocolate cherries. Mmm. Pistachios. I don’t want radishes. What are those boxes floating above my head? I could reach out and grab them. But then I’d have boxes and I don’t want that many boxes. Stick monkeys don’t make sense. But parakeets do. There’s no reason to put cyanide in the toilet bowl the dog is too fat. We can’t. Ugh! There’s nothing keeping me from being purple. What does that even doing? You are so potato. I think I need help. I need help. I’m losing a lot of blood and this cloth isn’t helping. It’s leaking and and ebbing. I can’t feel anything. I think I’m going to die. That’s the only conclusion. I’m going to die. And there’s nothing she can do without it. What will I tell Andrew? He’ll never know. She’ll never forgive me but that’s not my fault. Yeah. Oh pickles. Little green pills. Tastes like bubbles. And lime. I just want to close my eyes. I’ll sleep, I promise. I’ll be a good girl. Good night, mother.