Lilac Murders

RED

RED.

So RED, all of it was red. My hands, my face, my shirt, the carpet, him. It was a wonder one room could handle so much RED. It was a wonder one man could hold so much RED.

My shirt clung against my skin and I saw my reflection in the piece of broke mirror. I was RED. It would take time and effort to clean all of it off. I didn't have any intention of doing that. I wadded over to the bathroom and took a shower. I watched the RED circle around the drain until it finally completed its tornado shape and disappeared forever.
   After, I found my way into his bedroom. I slipped into a pair of his cargo shorts and an old t shirt. Before discovering the door to the basement, I tied a pair of RED tennis shoes on. Then, I descended into the darkness. I fumbled around for just a moment before finding something that felt like a can of gasoline. I loosened the cap and began my dance across the house. I dropped my lighter on the back porch as I walked into the woods.
I could feel the inferno blazing against my back. I could see the shadow of fire and smoke against the trees.
Still, there was only one thing on my mind and that was : who is next ?

I stared at myself in the waves of a little lake. The water splashed up against the shore in a timley manner. As the waves came in, I saw my face clearly and I questioned every thing. Then, the waves rushed out again just as quickly as they had come in. Suddenly, my reflection was gone and I didn't have to worry about the morality of my decisions.
   "Dean?" He called out. I turned to my brother, showing a blank expression with undertones of general good spirits.
   "Dinner is done." He waved me into the house. I never looked back at our backyard lake that evening. I trudged through the grass, absentmindedly hiding the RED underneath stains of green and brown.
   At dinner we, or rather he, enjoyed conversation about weather and politics over cheeseburgers and 'super healthy pretzels'. Sam made dinner almost every night and when he didn't, he ordered take out. Never, not even one night did he forget to add something healthy to the meal. Not that any of that mattered very much to me nor did I understand why it would matter to anyone. Nevertheless, this is how things were. I had dealt with and learned to impersonate the person I was expected to be since I discovered that I was not.
   It was after mom died. It was after years of abuse from my father. It was after my girlfriend of many years broke up with me. I guess you could call them stressors but labeling the events didn't change what they were. They didn't change me into what I am. Those events made me realize what I always was. RED.

4:22 AM March 13th.
It was all becoming a bit tedious. It was the walking in. It was the fighting. It was the blinding desire to force the RED river to flow over my fingers. It was the eventual slash, stab, and scratch. It was the walking away. It was the burn. It was the same way every time.
Someday, they'll catch me. Someone will ask why. "Many serial killers, if that's what you'd like to call me, lust for the control. They feed off the screams and cries of the helpless and the innocent. Not me, I just want RED." Its not that I think about getting caught. Its not that I want to be thrown in jail. I am well aware this is all very illegal but really, I just don't care. Still, with each passing day, each passing fire, I feel the world closing in. They're getting closer. I just know it.