Kate the Killer (Jeff the Killer trilogy - part 2)

Jeff the Killer Trilogy

Part 2: Kate the Killer

by yours truly, Saylem Hendricks

    

"We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours."

- anonymous

Chapter One

 I sit in my bed and click through all four hundred channels, but I wasn't satisfied with anything. It was nothing but boring craft shows, educational bullshit, and cooking channels, which really bummed me out because the food sucked here, and I really wanted some greasy McDonald products from town.

It seemed like everything here drained the life from me. The color of the walls, the bed sheets, my view outside my window, the stupid TV channels, the workers, the people here... Just everything. I've been lying through my teeth to the doctors and other employees, just so they think I'm better, so maybe I could get out of here quicker. They seem to buy it, and I honestly don't know why they wouldn't. I think there actually was improvement in my mind-area. I haven't done anything too horrible in months, and it definitely shows. I think they're even starting to like me.

The view from the window pains me. The line of trees that once hid the road with its leaves now exposed the cars driving by with their bare branches. I watched the people in their cars drive by with freedom, not being held captive in a Crazy House; not checking the clock every hour in hopes something happens, like I do.

Just as I said that, I glance to the clock out of habit. It was 7:19, almost time for a visit from Andrew. He stopped by before he worked, and after he worked, which was both really early, and very late. He's had to work harder in order to afford the house, food, bills, etc. because I'm not there to help him out. Instead I'm here, slowly wasting away.

Seeing him was really the only thing I had to look forward to. I told my friends to fuck off and that I never wanted to talk to them again, and my Aunt Cassie doesn't even know about this mess. I call her like everything is normal, and tell her I'm going to be swamped with work for a while until the new house expenses are through. It's been so long now. I bet she's worried.

I won't lie, I would love to see her. I have nothing here.

Except for one thing. It rarely ever happens, but over-joys me when it does.

Jeff. He visits me.

They tell me he's not real, that it's just my mind playing tricks on me. They try to deceive that he really doesn't come and visit me, and that it's just my insanity having the urges to kill again.

But it's not. He's very much real, something just isn't right about the situation of the night I killed Jane.

But tonight, I'm getting out of here.

~*~

I lie in my bed for another hour full of boredom and agitation that I can't go anywhere. The stress of not being my own person again covers me like a heavy, dark gray blanket; slowly suffocating me with its pretentious layer.

My doors rests open, where I can peer out into the hallway and see my fellow sufferers as they pass by. Some get confused and enter my room, until their aid sweeps by and directs them to the correct room. An old woman named Mable usually came in to talk to me, and most of the time she would bring in coloring pages for her and I to pass the time with. Today she came in sad.