Mr. Sick - Chapter 9 - Part 2

I saw her take in a breath of the cold air as she lifted her chin to the sky. Sadly though the moon and stars were still not enough to illuminate her face, which at this point I so desperately wanted to see. She opened her mouth to exhale, and after a moment of pause the smoke curved around her upper and lower lip and left slowly, almost like it was hesitant to do so, as if every ounce of oxygen that found it's way into her body wanted to stay in there forever. I watched with her as it floated away into the night as depressed as any bit of smoke could float, and almost felt sad because of it. Then she looked down into the street again, and took one last deep breath and sniffled her nose a she did it, to signify that the best part of her evening was over, and the rest of the time ahead was just a lifeless intermission before she met the boy again.

And then she began to walk.

And so I began to follow...

I moved from behind the tree and rubbed my hand against the bark as I did. I like the smell of sap and don't mind it on my palm for reminding, so I was hoping some of it would come off on me. The releasing of sap is as a defense mechanism in trees,  and I suspect they feel threatened when I'm around. I'm positive you know enough about me, maybe not as much as you would like hah, but enough to understand everything is threatened when I'm around.

I make trees feel very sappy.

I make everyone feel very threatened.

But that's not why they call me Mr. Sick.

And wouldn't you like to know?

I usually don't spend any time following someone really, I try to get it over with and go about myself. But this time for some silly reason I decided to walk with her for awhile. Maybe it was my interest getting the better of me, or maybe it was that I had any interest at all. She was ahead of me by about fifty feet at first, which I would soon close in on when I needed, but for now was fine as to not be noticed. We were moving at an alarmingly slow rate for my taste, but she had her heart and mind in another time and place then on this grimy street. The street that I was on. I wished for a long time someone would stroll to no where with me, and yet I'm always prompt and swift with my feet, like I not only have no soul, but believe it's no where in my future. I hate walking slow, I hate walking slow, and hold my tongue whenever I am around people that do. We ended up passing a nice row of homes to our right. Two stories high and connected at the side. Most of them made of brick, and most of them displaying flowers on their windowsills. A couple still had candles lit, unlike usual when I was around. And so I thought for a moment that maybe she was making them feel safe, despite a certain SICK feeling in their stomachs. All these quaint little homes had these cute little gates in front, which normally I would drag my hand across to make a clinking noise, but I had to suppress the urge naturally, and synchronize my steps with Mrs. Conception, to not be heard as much as I really for some silly reason wanted to be heard by her.

Maybe it was my interest getting the better of me

Or maybe it was that I had any interest at all.

Who was this woman?

And what did Mrs. Hopeful see in Mrs. Conception that scared her through her skin and bones?

I started to move in close just as we came to some breaks between the houses. They were the alleys between lots on the north and south side of the street. I knew that she was going to have to take one to proceed to wherever she was heading, and don't ask me why. I just knew. The alleys are generally pretty dark themselves but have a light post on each corner making them the brightest part at this point of the day. At the end they run along a man-made river, that leads into the large lake in the middle of town, and have bridge every hundred yards or so so people can cross.


She walked for a little while passing the lights with no alarm, moving from dark to light back and forth over and over. I could see the deep purple of her dress and the back of her neck when she stepped into the gaps, and there was something familiar in the way this type of girl would dress, that always left me captive. I felt kind of happy that I would soon be killing her in all honesty. It made me feel somehow different that I was able to end the life of someone so many men would fall for. So many men would do whatever this girl told them to do, so many men would hang on every word, and every laugh would make them laugh as well, despite nothing being funny. I felt intrigued by her in every way, but more intrigued with not needing her in any way at all.

And so my friends my dear good friends, it was time for her to die.

She broke her line and headed into the next alley while looking down at the floor, and had no idea I was right behind her, which is a tribute to me you must know. She walked almost half way, between each lamp post as to be almost untouched by either, like teasing them with what I could only assume was the face of someone stunning.

And then she stopped...

She felt me behind her, and before she had a chance to turn around I said.

“Hello, Mrs. Conception.”

I stepped up enough so I could smell her, as I always loved to do with woman, and she did not move as I did. I leaned forward to where the dress met her shoulder, and moved along back up her neck as I slowly breathed her in. There was something familiar in the way this type of girl would smell, that always left me captive. Still it was dark, and I could only see how pale she was, and some of the beautiful freckles that were spread along her skin. She did not move at all yet, and I almost felt like she knew who I was and why I was following her, like she wanted me to as well.

There was something familiar in this type of girl.

It always left me captive.

Too bad I had to end such a lovely human being.

I lifted my gun to the back of her head...