Mark Brooke | 21.10.2015

After Mark gets himself cleaned up, he lays still in his bed. The memory of the event is still vivid in his head. He looks over to the clock — 2 a.m. His thoughts drift off...

My father is out the entire time my mother is gone. That is a benefit for me.

I carefully wraps the butcher knife in old newspaper which is covered in dirt. I have father's thick woolen gloves on.

As I leave the house, the clocks ticks 11 p.m.

Aunty Lucy had visited 20 minutes, ago. She would confirm my presence at home, if the police comes by. She was fishy about the fact that my father wasn't home, though.

I deliberately drive towards a patch of woods near Cam's Diner. Cam's Diner closes at 10 p.m. but the surveillance cameras are operational all year round.

There are 2 surveillance cameras — one at the entrance and one at the back door. The one at the back door is broken because of some naughty boys.

Father walks here at around this time, everyday. The front camera will pick that up. I go from the back.

I give Martha a call. Thankfully, her parents are out on a date. She says that she'll be there.

I may have convinced her by saying that I need to vent.

I am so sorry, Martha.

Why I chose Martha? I must be beyond crazy to murder someone I love.

You see, Martha has been my support system from a very long time. And, I love her. But, everyone who I loved, hurt me, killed pieces of me. Martha hurt me, too.

She cares, I'm sure. But, she, well, I don't think I have a justified reasoning...so, let me just continue.

I park the car behind some trees, as I see Martha approaching. She hasn't seen me, yet. I quickly park the car and pretend I am coming from a different direction.

"Hey," She says. I don't think I can do this. We walk for a while, talk for a while.

I still don't think I can do this.

She interrupts my thoughts by leaning in. I get startled.

I kiss her back. Her mouth tastes raw not artificially flavored by chewing gum or anything.

We could have had a happy story if I didn't have a purpose in mind.

"I need to kill you, Martha." I tell her, bluntly.

"I know." How she knew is beyond me. She looks at the confusion my face and laughs. I can see her cheeks tinted red under the moonlight.

"You look like a murderer, to be honest." She says with a smile.

"So? How does that explain the fact that I want to kill you?" I question as I am very confused. This isn't something I expected.

"I don't want to live. Heaven is a better place for me, I guess. I'd love to die. I have been thinking of dying, lately, since you aren't there to give me company, anymore. Suicide is painful, I have read. It would be better if someone just killed me."

I pull out the knife which is safely tucked in my hoodie. I still have my arm around her.

"Oh! That's huge." She says with eyes as bright as saucers. "Come meet me in heaven, Mark." She says while meeting my eye with a solemn expression.

"I will. Soon..."

"I love you." I whisper as I stab her. She goes limp in my arm. Her lips are trembling — she can feel the pain.

I gently lay her down on the soft ground. I pull out my gloves and everything else and make a run for it. Thankfully, no one is about.

Mark looks over to the other side of his window. This window will forever remain empty. He sighs before rolling over. He would never get sleep, now.