When she told me what happened, I envisioned your neck in my hands. Through the red, I saw myself wringing it until your eyes popped like ripe grapes. She was fifteen. She crumbled into my arms crying, I held her ’til she fell asleep. Do you know how that feels? She told me you were walking towards her on Crannel Street and shoved a foul-smelling rag over her mouth and nose, chloroform I assume. The next thing she knew, she was lying naked tied to a bed. I have to admit to you that even being who I am, that made me sick. I’ll put it into perspective for you, I don’t exist. I’m a ghost. I never had a family because I chose killing people for my country over having one. Friends, few and far between, in the wrong persons’ eyes they would become targets, and I try to do my killing for a price. It’s your bad luck that you came to my city to do this and happened across one of the people I hold dear to me. Am I boring you, hold your head up. Look at me. Now, this city being where I come from, I know where all the dirt hangs out, I described you and flashed a hundred dollars, and I had all the info I needed. I followed your stench to Pleasant Valley, ironic right. So not only were you scum bag, you were a scum bag that knew better to not shit where he ate. You probably thought that it would never catch up with you, but it did in the worse way possible. She couldn’t tell me details, nor did I want her too, I had all the fuel I needed. That night, you broke something inside of her, she was never the same. All I got was six more months, only six months of her alive. One night we had gone to our spot, a cliff overlooking the Hudson river between Waryas Park and Cal Rock. It was always a star-filled night when we went, a constant reminder of our true stature. We would wax poetic, listen to music, or just exist. To say this time was different would be an understatement. I had never seen her that distraught. That was the night she told me everything. That was the last time I saw her, held her. That was the night she killed herself. She couldn’t handle the pain or fear, things she didn’t need that you gave her anyway. And by the looks of you, you don’t handle fear very well either. And we will get to see your tolerance for pain. She was my niece. She was intelligent, funny, and you know she was beautiful. It was her beauty and your lack of control that brought us here. If you’re a praying man, I suggest you start doing that. Quiet.I’ve only hit you twice so far. Matter of fact, here, have another foot to the face. How many times have you done this, destroy a young girl’s life? That’s all over now, I am your omega. It irritates me how often people like you get away with the things they did. You take what you want, you put the fear of everything in them so they don’t say anything, and then they either go crazy or go numb until they can’t and don’t want to feel anything. Which is your dominant hand? Give it to me, you don’t get to ask questions. Just give it to me. Did you know that there are two joints in each finger except the thumb? The Proximal Interphalangeal Joint and the Distal Interphalangeal Joint. They’re the two parts of the fingers where they bend after the knuckle. Where would you like me to cut, or do I choose? No, there isn’t a third option. What will it be? I’m sorry, did you think you were getting a clean death? That’s hilarious. Decide or I will. Ok, it’s up to me then. We’ll go proximal, leave you with nubs. Humming keeps me motivated, any song requests? You look like a Justin Bieber kind of guy. Yeah, I don’t know any of that. Believe it or not, I’m more of a Busta Rhymes type of person. Woohaa! So, I like having options when I’m working. I brought a hammer, bolt cutters, and a steak knife. Again, choose or I will. Nah, I’m kidding. I only brought these rusty bolt cutters. Come on, like you need to worry about getting an infection. You’re going to die, it doesn’t matter. What? I can be so calm because I’m happy with the idea that after so long of you being a dick face, I finally get to watch you bleed. So snip snip, woohaa! Stop screaming, this will only take a…oh, there it goes. Three more to go then we renegotiate your situation. Plink, pop, squish, all done. How you feeling? All this screaming, if you’re not happy with the service you’re getting leave a review on Yelp. Now stand up. Come over here with me. No, it’ll be fun. I promise. Listen carefully, I’m only gonna ask you once. Do you want to jump or do you need a push? Do I look like I’m joking? Have I made any jokes this whole time? Nah, there won’t be any bargaining. Your life doesn’t mean dick to me, and I don’t care what you can do for me. Senator, it’s time to choose. Ah hell, I got this. Bon voyage.
Me, Myself, and Bipolar 