Everybody has problems. So I'm entitled to mine ain't I? I knew from a young age that I was special. I saw it in the faces of my mother and the numerous men who lived with us at one time or another. I didn't care about what she did with them even then. She was a slut, that was her problem. I had better things to do with my head than worrying about her. My father had not been anyone special in our lives.
He was soft spoken had the misfortune of sticking one in my mother, and getting her pregnant. At least she knew who my father was. Would've been weird for me if she didn't. He never gave a minute crap about me. So when he left,... I didnt notice. He left his Pug......, Poggo? What sort of name is that for a dog? I hated that pesty little shit. The filthy mutt always made a mess on the floor. I was ten years old, and I knew this was a problem.........MY problem.
So one day when no one was home, I bashed its skull with a steel rod. Surprisingly, it took two blows. What can I say? I was big for my age. It's amazing how much blood a dog's head contains. I watched its body writhe and twitch until it went limp. I buried the little demon in the bushes by the house. Ruined an amazing pair of shoes in the process. What a waste!
After that, there were no more messes on the floor. My mother didn't cry when my Dad left. But boy did she wail for Pug! You would've thought someone (and by 'someone' I mean a mammal on two legs) had died. She bawled for like half a day....and then some. Pug's body was never found though. Everyone assumed he'd been 'taken away' by some stranger.
I was enrolled In another school, reason being: a student mysteriously vanished and was never heard from again. Did I have anything to do with it? Well, lets just say if you put your mind to it, there's more than ONE place to bury your 'problems.'
Anyway, my mum got spooked. She felt the school wasn't, "a safe learning enviroment." So, she switched me. It was the bestest thing she did for me that year.
There were thirteen of us in the class. Teens are noisy, you know? And messy.......and silly.
This one girl, she cried all day(and I mean ALL DAY!). Who does that?
My teacher Miss Lily was perfect (well, I thought so at the time).She had a nice smile and a gentle voice. Even when my classmates were being demonic, she kept her cool. I hated them. But I loved Miss Lilly; reminded of the Easter Bunny.
The Headmistress was Miss Harriet, she wasn't a nice person. She wasn't like Miss Lily. I wanted Miss Lily all to myself. I told my mother this, and she looked at me like I was crazy.
Me? Crazy?
Did I mention that I hated my mother? The only reason she survived my pre-teen years was because I'd seen enough foster homes on TV to know I didn't want to go there.
Mother had a new friend. His name was Humphrey.
I didn't like him. He looked like an Owl. I hate Owls.
I didn't care, I didn't expect to get any attention from him. He stayed with us for months and months. One night, he crept into my room with a dazed look on his face. He sat on my bed, and touched my feet under the covers. I stared at him. Mother rushed in and tried to take him away from me. He slapped her so hard she hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
He was a problem that needed solving.
I walked home from school the next day with a resolve. I knew what needed to be done.
It was Break time, and I knew nobody would miss me. Nobody ever did.
I went into Mother's closet and took out the shoe box. She'd had the gun for years. I'd spent enough time studying the damn thing to know how it worked.
I walked to the next street, where Humfrey had his shop. He was in the dark room, washing out films. I walked in, and he turned around angry at the interruption.
The room wasn't completely dark. I could see the pictures he had been working on:
Children....... Naked children.
I took a step back and pulled the trigger twice. It was loud.....very loud.
Both shots hit him in the chest. How did I know how to do this? Ask Google. Now lemme get on with my story.
He fell and I turned around. Regrets? I didn't bury him. Enough said.
Ten minutes later, I was back in my classroom.
My life was pretty much uneventful after that. My point being: I didn't get to kill anything or anyone for five years.
Imagine that! Five whole years?
Why did I take so long to be 'normal' again?
The next time was in secondary school.
Two boys decided to play a game with me.
They were Seniors, and they came to my class and picked me out, calling me names and Jerring at me. They dragged me to their block, even though they didn't need to. I would've gone willingly. But noooo, they had to get creative.
These two were problems I needed to solve.
It took me two months to prepare. I waited for the first one, he was short,stocky and fifteen. But I had the upper hand.....I was fast. I sat quietly in his wardrobe, watched him climb into bed. Thirty minutes later, I tapped him with a carving knife from mother's kitchen.
Recognition creeped into his eyes a moment before I slit his throat. His scream died in his mouth.
A day later I jogged to the other end of town, and repeated the process with a the other senior.
I was good......I was very good.
I slept easily that night. Problem free.
I kissed a boy a year later. His name was David. He wasn't the most handsome guy in my class, but he liked me. It was the last term in secondary school and I finally had a boyfriend.
I was a normal teenager.....well, sorta. but I knew it was just a matter of time before the 'normalcy' of my life returned.
Weeks later, I found David in the arms of another another girl.
Her name was Debra.
Another problem, I sighed. Too bad. I really liked David.
A day later, Debra fell unto the path of a fast moving truck.
Her body was badly mangled.
She died on the spot.
We graduated, and David gained admission into a university in another state.
Damn, I had missed my chance. But no matter, I thought. I would always find a way.
I managed to track him down to his school.
I'm staring at him right now. He has no idea I've been following him for days. I don't feel anything for him anymore. He's just another problem that needs solving.
I'll do it tonight....just need to get some duct tape, pliers and some needles.
My name is Rita and I'm a problem-solver.
Happy weekend guys!
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