Friday, November 6, 2009



“Okay, so I tell her, ‘Stop moving you twit. Did you honestly think I was going to let you ruin my life? I’ve worked too hard to let you destroy everything.’ But she kept babbling about how she was going to make me suffer. How she would see to it that I got nothing. I couldn’t take it anymore. After I cracked her in the jaw, she looked a little stunned. I think she knew she was going to die.
“Chuckie, I’m almost finished. ‘Squeeze her harder, Dorian. She can’t talk if she can’t breathe. Not unless she wants to give me what I came for. No? Okay, have it your way. This will be quick, I promise.’ I picked up the comb and slowly ran my fingers along the slender, pointed handle. Poor Tonya tried to move, but her strength was gone. I chose the ribbon that matched her undies, you know, I wanted her to die in style. But it was the darnedest thing. I think she knew what I was planning to do because she wouldn’t open her mouth for me. Never fear, I fixed that. I cracked her again. The girl had a glass jaw. Problem solved. I think you know how the rest of the story ends.”

1 comment:

  1. hi! your visit today will be greatly appreciated friend...moreso with a message ;)