It was not that I wanted this. It appeared, just like my mid-age freckles that I was destined to have. I remember the first time like it was yesterday but the second time was the most appealing. It was when I knew that I could practically hide amid any and every situation. So just like the game of chess, it was being able to be my most strategic self and using meaningful moves that dictated the way the ‘game’ ended, that eventually stole my heart. Creating a new hobby that some may find horrifying, but I found liberating. It was a lust that I never considered… Undoubtedly, an ideal monomania.
We were leaving a bar. We had laughed together and shared common interests. I had no idea what was to come. I enjoyed his company very much and even considered sharing my social sites to stay in contact. He enjoyed reading just as much as I did. His knowledge of literature was impeccable. I could not believe how smart a man could be, yet– I did not miss the intelligence much once his last breath was complete. In fact, I nearly thanked him in his death. Kali made me feel again and because of my act of indulging in Kali's incidental death—- I became fulfilled.
Although, I obviously did not mean to kill Kali– I would have not been granted the same leverage as a white woman if I was to call the police. In that given moment, as he took his last breaths, I was truly terrified. But I blame him too! I am uncertain how he ended up in the same alley as I walked home, I just reacted. Shit, shit, shit! It was a quarter to three in the morning. I’d left the bar that is around the corner from my studio apartment so I had my knife by my side. Kali was there, drunk. He began to mock me, my insecurities, and something just came over me. I don’t know, seriously. When he lunged- I jumped. My knife just miraculously ended up in his side. I could not for the life of me remember what happened, I just know he bled, and bled, and bled. If this is what the Red Sea was, it was beautiful. The fiery red blood danced and I watched. I quickly rolled his body behind the dumpster and ran. When I reached my apartment, I cleaned my knife, tossed it, my clothes, and bleached the house. As I began to dial 9-1-1, I recanted. I had already left the scene, cleared the evidence, and before I could complete my remembrance of it all– I was spinning in my head and smiling from ear to ear. That’s right, I grinned as I thought about what I had just done to a man I met that same very night. It felt better than the cool release from a cough drop with a stuffy nose. Suddenly, I divulged a masked identity.
That night I made tea and dreamt peacefully. Remembering my dreams is almost impossible; however, last night was as perspicuous as I could ever imagine. I dreamt of the stream of the Red Sea that left his body, I was the queen of this island. I sailed and swam in a pool of Kali’s blood. I drank a glass, and another. Drinking glass after glass as if it was a fine Cabernet wine. The only thing my dream was missing was a slice of cheese or an oven roasted salmon dinner to compliment my impairing drink. AH! Yes, that is what I felt. I knew this feeling was familiar. His death was so intoxicating. I needed more to complete my fun. So…. I went to purchase more ‘wine’.
Planning my next victim was one of the first things on my mind that morning. I wanted the same adrenaline rush I received from Kali but this time, I needed a challenge. I wanted to execute this more deftly.I waited two days before I attacked again. While two days may seem too soon for one, it felt like two decades for me. And as those two days passed, each night I would dream again and again.. Picking up yet another bordeaux glass of Kali’s dreamt of sea. His drink augmented my desires. I needed more– so I went. I was going to return to the same nightclub where I met Kali, but I didn’t want to be noticed. It seemed no one noticed Kali’s disappearance and I did not want to have any ties either. I did not want anyone to correlate me with whom was now a corpse.. to me that is. So off to eat I went first. This time, my victim chose me. He stared his dreamy eyes into my soul, as if he knew that I needed the attention from such a handsome soul. I’d felt alone for years, which may explain my actions. I was longing for a touch, a feel and tonight I was the chosen one. Little did Ben know, he was too… I allowed those dreamy eyes to guide the night, but I knew I had the ultimate say. Ben was just as potent as a Ruby Roman Grapevine. I could taste every flavor he gave me. He had class, style, and the conversation became unique. So it was then, I knew what I had to do. I decided to lure him to my home. He watched me dance all night, utilizing a dry sex appeal that I never knew I had. As he laid on my futon, watching me, I knew the time had come. He must have known that his vulnerability became a target for me. He rolled off the couch and onto the floor like he was trying to get away. “Why are you trying to run away from me?” I called out. As if he had anywhere to go. This attempt to leave me made me even more angry. The air in the room grew stifling. I knew I had only a matter of time before I lost my consciousness. I must finish what I started, suddenly, I grabbed him by the neck and slammed Ben into my glass center-table.
“What have I done?” I whispered to myself. I was pissed, not about breaking a man’s neck, of course not. I saw the mess I made in my very own living room. How could I allow something to come in and make me so angry that I destroy my own space? Inebriated, I carefully picked up the glass and began to clean the mess I made. I knew the quicker I washed the thick red out of my carpets, the less it would stain. In fact, this was the challenge that I hoped for. How was I going to get this empty body out of my home without being seen and judged? I decided to finish cleaning my common area and stored Ben underneath a cupboard until I could figure out what to do with him. As I finished, I received a call. It was midnight and my friends wanted me to come enjoy a night out with them. I figured if anything, I should go to create an alibi. I quickly cleaned myself up and ran around to tidy up my house upon their arrival. Fearless of what was in my home, still very drunk, I pretended that I was just fine.
I told my friends to come pick me up, as I did not want to drive. But truthfully, I did not want my secret out by driving recklessly. They agreed and gave me a 20-minute grace period to gather myself. We went off into the night, dancing, drinking, and bar-hopping. I soon could feel my guilt rising; however, I believe the desire to kill again was overpowering me. I became anxious but I did not stop indulging. My desperation for this peculiar feeling clouded my judgment. My sentences became a mix of Hangman and Jeopardy, my pupils dilated, and oh God I had to pee. “I’ll be back.” I said while running to the restroom. Vomiting all over the toilet seat, I knew then I had to go. But I was so dizzy, I could hardly walk anymore. I stumbled out of the bathroom and the room started to spin and spin. The music became ear splitting as I walked onto the dance floor once again. I began dancing and trying to pretend I was alright. But I was far from it. I had the urge to attack again but I couldn’t make that move with everyone here. My heart raced, I started shaking, the room didn’t make sense anymore. Turning, spinning, too much talking. I wanted to scream. This can’t be happening…
“WHAT IS THIS?” Waking up to three people looking over me as if they had seen a ghost. I was certain that they knew! Looking around, I could tell that I was laying on my bed with my friends still in my house. Had they seen what was hidden underneath the kitchen sink? Timidly I questioned, “why are you here?” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?” They exclaimed. They knew, I couldn’t hide it anymore. Blacking out had to be the worst way to get caught. I am too ashamed to admit to them how many times this has happened and I don’t want to say too much quite yet. “It’s not what it seems!” “Then what is THIS?!?” She shouted while showing the broken neck of Ben. “I am calling to get help right now.” “YOU CAN’T!” I insisted. This is not like me, it was only a harbored divertissement. “I’ll stop, please don’t.” You all probably think I deserve being caught, which is fine. But I am merely a reflection of my hardships. What else am I left to do when life is pulling me in every direction at once? Is it really a crime to consume too much Kalimna? I killed it, yes! But why does the amalgamation of troubles and wine equate to despaired relationships and judging?
I thought it was an addition to socializing but no, it was a negative fluke disease.