by Maya Mehta

Slut. Dressed like one anyway.

“Hey, Patricia.”

Fuck my name.

After a mental sigh I narrowed my eyes and whined sarcastically, “Hey, Vicky. How was your weekend?”

She clicked her tongue, lifted her chin and gave an arrogant smile. “Oh, it was  fantastic.” She altered her voice so it sounded like she smoked two packs a day. I was there the day she decided to start that crap around her crush in middle school. It hadn't helped her cause. “I went to this party...” She even lifted the end of her sentences so it sounded like she was unsure of what she was saying. Annoying. “And you wouldn't believe what happened.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “What.”

She placed both hands on my desk to lower her eyes to mine. Her smile became proud, “I made out with fucking Josh Nelson.”

Josh Nelson. All things that end in bag: scumbag, douche-bag, fart-bag, poop-bag, ho-bag. All the same really. He breathes rich boy arrogance, he doesn't study and cheats off of girls' tests with a wink and an implicit promise to fuck 'em later. My blood boils whenever I see the creep. He's not even pretty: He's tall, skinny, lanky, and pale. I gag at our common feature – blond hair.

“Are you not excited for me?” she asked disbelievingly. “He's like Brad Pitt 2.0, and you are not squealing like there's no tomorrow.”

“He's a man-slut,” I stated. “I wouldn't be surprised if you caught some tongue STD or something.” The door to the classroom swung open. Speaking of which, there's the asshole now. I came pretty close to vomiting when he came up behind Vicky and did something that made her giggle and waggle her eyebrows at me.

She called me a bitch and Josh led her by her fat ass back to her seat. The bell rang and music for the announcements began to play.

“Good Morning, Berkeley High. We have a very serious announcement. Senior Nina Rich has passed away this weekend. There will be a memorial service held in her honor this Friday. Please go to Room C213 for more details. Thank you.”

There was an awkward click followed by a thick silence. “Oh my God,” Vicky whispered. “Did anyone know her?” Dumb bitch, she was in the fucking class. Three girls sitting by an empty seat were staring, transfixed. It could happen to them too, couldn't it?

“Excuse me,” somebody muttered and quickly ran out of the classroom in a blur. Probably just an excuse not to sit in a classroom.

The teacher cleared his throat and perched on the corner of his desk. “As some of you might know, from watching the news I guess, Nina is one of three Berkeley High students who have been murdered, gruesomely. The police are enforcing a curfew of eight o'clock, though I suggest going home right after school. We have no idea who the murderer is; it could very easily be a classmate of yours. But you senior girls, please be careful.”

Talk about fucking creepy, as if it could be a high school student.

2^nd Period English Class – Monday, March 1.

“Oh my god,” Vicky whispered. “Did anyone know her?”

It's almost impossible not to laugh, not to smile. They're showing off my handiwork. Letting everyone know, and I didn't even have to ask! And then Vicky had to – Oh it was too much! “Excuse me,” I mumbled and grabbed the pass to run out of the room. Once in the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror and began hyperventilating with a big grin on. Just in case someone was in one of the stalls. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Oh it was too good. I remembered the feeling of my knife sticky with her blood. Her confused crazed eyes. Warm blood on a cold night – I couldn't have had a better weekend. The door squeaked, announcing someone's presence.

I quickly waved my hands in front of the motion sensor to play the part of an innocent kid simply going to the bathroom. Water sprayed out – so cold, too cold.

Lunch Wednesday, March 3.

This tasted horrible, but I like the sound. I placed another stick of celery in my mouth and chomped down on it, hard. The crunch resounded in my ears almost pleasantly. It's one of the few things that doesn't piss me off.

“You know Vicky Torrence?” I hate to admit it, but the name caught my attention. Barf. It was Josh Nelson with his entourage of three: Fat-ass, Communist, and Mr. Perfect. Some random girl was clinging onto the last guy, rubbing his shoulder with her face. Fuckin' weird.

The Communist shrugged, “sure.”

“I think I'm gonna fuck her this weekend.” He plans these sorts of things? That's a little bit more than creepy. 

“Oh my God,” A certain raspy voice interrupted my lunch. “Did you hear that?” It had to be Vicky, it just had to. Where the hell did she come from?

“He wants me so bad, it's so obvious. Oh my god. I'm so excited!” She really was, you could tell by the amount she was tugging at her bra.

“Awesome,” I dead-panned.

She, as always, clicked her tongue and moved on to the next thing. “Who's that slut? What is she doing with Josh Nelson?”

“She's not with Josh Nelson.”

“Whatever. She's near him. She's with Nina's ex-boyfriend! Oh my god that whore! I think I know who that is! That's Linda Stephens. She's been after him for so long, and she's going to jump his bones after Nina died! Can you believe that?”

“Wait. Were they still together when she died?” That's pretty vital to how horrible this Linda Stephens is.

“Well, they were having some random issues, I don't know. Apparently she lied to him about something important...” She's doing that fucking lifting her sentences again. “And then he got really upset and butt-hurt. And then she just broke up with him like so suddenly, but it was so weird! Because she was doing all the crying, and Linda Stephens was jumping on him like nobody's business! And now that Nina's dead he's actually letting her!”

“Well, I mean, most guys are douchebags.”

“That's a completely different kind of douchebag.”

“I'm not surprised.” I shrugged. “He was obviously into Nina and then she up and dies on him before they can make up and here's a girl who's more than willing to take away his pain by fucking him brainless.”

“No no no, here's the worst part.” It gets worse? “She has a boyfriend.”

“Damn.” Vicky, as hard as it was to say, was actually right for once

“I know.” She took one of my celery sticks, “I'm kinda surprised you didn't notice seeing as how all of them, except Linda, are in our English class.” Fucking Bitch, you're the one who didn't notice in class!

Late Evening – Wednesday, March 3.

I think I have my next victim. I smiled, butterflies swirling inside my body. I felt like they would burst out of my eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils, I was so giddy with excitement. It was so soon after my most recent kill. Nina, I smiled softly, who could do that to their boyfriend? She breaks up with a boyfriend who is willing to forgive her for cheating? Silly little girl.

I pulled the tape recorder out of the inside of my jacket. I rewound to what I thought would be lunchtime. I had to take care of my friends somehow, and I couldn't remember every little detail. I hit play.

“I think I'm gonna fuck her-” I groaned and fast forwarded until I heard a tinny bell sound twice.

“Bye, Ethan!” A girl's voice came; I clamped my smile shut to hold in the butterflies. That's her!

“Bye,” a deeper voice mumbled, then sighed loudly.

“She's pissing me off too.” A new voice.

“Relax, Josh. She's just trying to be helpful.”

“Dude. she's dating Terry Bradshaw, the poor sucker. He went off to college and isn't the wiser about his girlfriend's disgusting behavior. She's obnoxious too. When she isn't trying to get into your pants she's just complaining all the time.”

“I know, she complains to me too.” There was a pause followed by loud rustling sounds. “Do you think I should talk to Terry?”

“No. If anyone should talk to Terry, it should be her.

A groan sounded through the speakers. “She's pulling such astronomical bitch moves. This is ridiculous.”

I pressed stop. You couldn't get a much better reason than what this girl was providing. She could have waited to parade her inexcusable flaws, though. I'm always craving to kill, but I try to wait until I'm really thirsting for it. She couldn't even wait a week. Linda Stephens, here I come. The butterflies erupted.

6^th period Math Class – Friday, March 5.

What a horrible, horrible week. I mean, it's not different from any other week besides Vicky suddenly assuming I'm her gossip buddy. I didn't even say shit! I was just surprised for a second about that fucking Linda bitch, and all of the sudden I'm hearing about how she drank out of the same water bottle as... and so-and-so fucked so-and-so and apparently we're so pissed together about how Vicky couldn't have been there too. I was so much happier hating everything by myself. I'd rather not hate things as a couple.

The clock eventually managed to drag its ass to 3:15 and the bell sang its flat tune to remind us why we hate it here. I lazily shuffled to the school library, and plopped my books down on a table in the back. A giggle annoyed my ear drums and I scanned the room for the bitch. 

I really shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Linda and Nina's ex were talking it up right in the middle of the library. He was frowning at her and she was casually lying her head on the table. Her hand grabbing at his.

“Your hands are so cold!” She squealed.

“Maybe your hands are just warm.” He replied logically. Oh look, hints of a brain.

“My hands will always be here to warm yours up.” She wrinkled her nose in an effort to be cute.

She has a boyfriend, and she's actually doing that.

Vicky's face got in my face before I could say anything. Where the fuck does she come from?

“Have you been watching them long?” She whispered hungrily. Gossip was vital to her existence, after all.

“No,” I said. “They're holding hands and she's a cunt. It hasn't changed much.”

Josh walked into the library, Vicky started frantically tugging at her bra.

“Rearranging tissues?” I smiled. I am so hilarious.

He looked pissed, and didn't hesitate in walking right up to the new couple, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her out of the library.

“Oh. My. God.” said Vicky. Of course.

6 pm – Friday, March 5.

“I'm really sorry about earlier,” I said. Butterflies were bursting everywhere - it was coming soon, so so soon. 

“Don't worry about it.” Linda said. “I mean, you explained it. So it's fine. Anyway. It's almost seven and my parents might be worried. So I really should be getting home.”

“Of course.” I smiled. “It's dangerous, so I'll drive you.”

She smiled back curiously. My smile deepened. They usually smile like that when I pretend to like them.

“Okay.” Hesitant, but assured.

Once we got into the car and started driving she started complaining. From her parents to her boyfriend to even Nina. Yes, even Nina. Blah blah blah. My life sucks. Blah blah blah. I can't believe Nina looked at me like that on Friday, she should have known that I'd never see her again so she really should have been nicer to me. Blah blah blah. No Exaggerations. 

“Okay, it's just around the corner. Could you drop me off here? I don't want my parents to see me getting dropped off by some random boy.” She laughed for some reason. I slid the car in a red zone and turned it off. She continued to complain.

“I'll let you out.” I got out of the car and pulled a heavy wood hammer from between the seat and the door in one swift motion. I walked around to the passenger's side and opened the door, hiding the hammer behind my back.

“And I didn't tell you! Terry got mad at me, can you believe it? He got mad at me because I was busy on Christmas.” She stepped out of the car, and walked towards the corner, away from me. “I mean, how ridicu-” 

“Smack,” I voiced along with the action. I smiled. Perfect Timing. 

She fell to the ground with a pitiful groan :she just wouldn't shut up. I carried her back to the car and placed her back into the passengers seat, taking special care to buckle her seatbelt. I drove quickly to campus.

Afterschool – Friday, March 5.

Nina's ex was left just sitting in the library. So Vicky shamelessly went up to him, dragging me along, and asked him, “What was that?”

He blinked at the doors of the library. “I don't know.” His gaze turned toward us. “Who are you?”

“Oh!” She giggled. “I'm in your English class! I'm Vicky Torrence; Josh was talking about me the other day.” She smiled proudly, then gestured to me. “This is my best friend ever, Patricia. She's kind of harsh around the edges but she's cool after a while.” 

What the fuck?

He smiled at me. “Hello, I'm Ethan.”

“Hello,” I replied logically.

“It's nice to meet you.” He said politely.

“It's nice to meet you too.” So much had happened to him, I couldn't be mean to this guy. He... Wasn't a douchebag. Wow. 

“What did Josh want with Linda?” Vicky didn't beat around the bush.

“Well, I know that he doesn't like her very much.”

I snorted. “Who would?” He glanced at me warily, “I mean... sorry.”

“It's okay. I understand, she does some pretty horrible things. But, she's been here for me more than other people.”

“Josh doesn't like her,” Vicky mused, then laughed. “Watch her show up dead on Monday! Then Josh would be the killer!” As if that was hilarious. 

“Josh isn't a killer,” I said with confidence. “He's an asshole, but he isn't a killer. The killer wouldn't be so obvious about it. More importantly though, Josh just screws girls. He definitely doesn't kill them; he doesn't have the gonads.”

Ethan looked up at me. “Smart thinking,” he agreed. “I don't know what he's up to though. I think I should go after them, and explain to her what's going on.”

“What is going on?” Vicky asked.

“Sure.” I said, “Go for it.” He grabbed his and Linda's bags and dashed from the library.

6:30 pm – Friday, March 5.

When she finally woke up duct taped to a chair with a sock in her mouth, she started crying. I imagine I would too in that situation. You're in a giant empty warehouse, it's abandoned. Rats are scampering everywhere; if you can't see them, then you can hear them. And finally, there's a set of knives lying nonchalantly on the floor.

I picked up a big thick cleaver, and pulled the sock out of her mouth. She coughed and then started sputtering, “y-yo-y-you... h-h-he said... h-h-h-o-how... what... why? Why!?” Butterflies were flying everywhere. I tried to explain this to her, but she just cried instead of listening.

“Why...” I mused aloud, I shifted my cleaver in the light, to reflect into her eyes. She squinted. “I'm surprised you're asking.” I smiled big. Her eyes widened, larger and larger. I slowly arched my arm back, holding it up above my head. The light flashed from her face. Her pupils went big and I knew she couldn't quite see. “I mean. It is your fault.”

I slammed my arm forward and the corner of the knife cracked her skull and sunk into her head. There was a sick full sound, followed by something wet. Blood sprayed everywhere. It was all over me and I couldn't help smiling, laughing so big that specks flew into my mouth and I had accidentally inhaled them. Oh, the butterflies.

2^nd Period English Class – Monday March 8.

“Good Morning, Berkeley High. Linda Stephens passed away this weekend. There will be a memorial service on Friday. Please go to Room C213 for more details, Thank you.”

The announcements continued, but I couldn't hear them, I was staring and Vicky, and she at me. She was sitting next to josh, he had a look of pure horror on his face. 

“I knew it, I warned her. Shit” he whispered. What? He stared straight at the door, and then glanced quickly at an empty seat only to look back at the door again. I looked back to Vicky, and suddenly she wasn't staring at me anymore. I sank in my chair and turned my head slightly left. Out of the corner of my eye, I scanned the door. There was someone standing outside. They were moving oddly, shaking. I turned further. He wasn't looking inside, so I turned completely around.

Ethan was standing outside the door, and laughing. I watched him take a big huge gulp of air to breathe. I quickly whipped around when I realized he was going to come back in. Josh and Vicky were already staring hard at the floor. The door creaked. I sunk in my chair and stared out the window behind them.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly.

“Girls, you really need to get your butts home as soon as school ends. Frankly, I'm surprised school is even on anymore. I sincerely hope you all stay safe. Now. Moving on to Hamlet...”

I opened my eyes. I sat up in my chair and scanned the room. Ethan was staring at me. I smiled and waved. He waved back. No smile.

2^nd period English Class – Tuesday, March 9.

“Good Morning, Berkeley High. Patricia Connell has passed away. A memorial service honoring both her and Linda Stephens will be held on Friday. Please go to C213 for more details.”

The most upsetting thing is that it really seemed like we could have been great friends if only she hadn't turned around. She seemed like the type of girl who would pick out victims three, four at a time. 

I sighed. I was not happy about this. Things were getting messy, complicated. Oh Patricia, this wasn't even your fault. I took a look over at the class' new favorite couple, Josh and Vicky. How cute.