Penhallow

VII

It was some time before I had the urge to kill again.  The third one is Loreen Harley. It was all Seth Mathias’ fault. He was silently courting me since the end of the term in our third year. I gave my yes just before the start of our senior year. I wanted to keep it a secret. I had two main reasons. One, he was my first boyfriend, telling my parents and friends about him would be total mayhem. Second, he was a star in our school. I want to keep my privacy and my world as quietly as possible. I was not ready yet and asked him to give me some time before letting the world know. But that didn’t happen. Why? Loreen Harley happened. Somewhat, she found out about us when even my friends and Seth friends were unaware. She gave her final and full forced effort to seduce Seth and what a perfect timing, Seth at last gave in. She told me herself with pictures to show. I dumped Seth hours after. He did spend the next few days begging a second chance, I commend him for that. When he realized that it was all over between the two us, his ego couldn’t take it. He acted like he didn’t know me on the days that followed. A good thing for me. Loreen announced to the world that they were finally an item. Seth just let it be. He was such a faithless pig while Loreen was a pest. They did deserve each other.
But Loreen and I had some unfinished business. And she didn’t know it. Nobody messes with me and steal what’s mine. That’s a big taboo to me. Hell hath no fury to a woman scorned. Killing her was satisfying. Killing her was easy. I’d written her a secret note the day she died to meet me before the fourth period. The name Seth Matthias was magic enough for her to show up. I waited for her in an empty classroom at the end of the third floor. She didn’t expect that it would be her last moment. Why would she? Who would expect that a schoolmate was up to kill her? No normal person would. And it was established that I was not normal.  I hid behind the doors and the moment she entered, I knocked her down then injected to her a syringe filled with sedative. She fought me for several seconds before her hands fell down her sides, the sedatives taking effect. With my hand clasped to her mouth, she stared at me with dazed horrified eyes. I didn’t say any word. I didn’t have to. I just smiled at her sweetly as my other gloved hand crept up her throat. I slowly squeezed it and she understood. She pitifully and uselessly tried to fight but I only squeezed harder. And I gazed at her pained eyes for what seemed to be a long time until they turned blank. Her last breathe teasing my left hand. I left her body lying there then made my exit on the window ledge. I am good in climbing places. It is a natural talent. I made sure no one saw me.
Earlier that day I asked for a sick leave making sure that my friends saw me leave for home. I even called mom telling her I was home just to be sure. I sneaked back to school. Every school had a worm hole where every delinquent sneaked in and out. I used it on my way out after disposing the gloves in the toilets. I passed a couple of freshmen students but they didn’t pay me any attention. Students cutting classes are normal. I even saw Seth and friends just outside the fence smoking. I quickly changed directions. Why not kill Seth too? His only faults were being weak and pathetic. Waste of time. There were too many like him. And the idiot didn’t even suspect me. Loreen’s death caused such huge uproar. It was after all very public. And it was my first official recorded murder.
Mr. Jenkins murder should not be  surprising since almost everyone had been plotting his death and expecting him to drop off dead any seconds. Everyone hated him. He was extremely rude and arrogant. He was nicknamed ‘Mr. Jerkins’ and that was the understatement of the century. He worked his students hard then failing them in the end without legitimate cause. Scratch them. He always had a ready excuse of failing his students. He took abuse of power to the next level. He can’t be talked to nor reasoned out even when the student cried blood. Why he wasn’t kicked out yet in our school was a mystery to me. Health Science was the only subject I’d ever been with him. Even as an A-class student, I had my fair share of difficulty from him.  But I didn’t kill him because of those things. That time it was not some self-served reason. I did have a deeper cause. For me, he was the one who killed Mrs. Harrolds, our old neighbour.  I saw him that time when I was 13. He came storming out of Mrs. Harrolds house with an angry expression. It was one of my Tuesday’s visits. When I went inside I saw Mrs. Harrolds collapsing with a hand clutching her chest. I was the one who called for help. They brought Mrs. Harrolds to the hospital but it was too late. She died of cardiac arrest. I told anyone who would listen about the man I saw leaving Mrs. Harrolds house before she collapsed. But a cardiac arrest was no murder.
I would never forget Mr. Jenkins face. It was quite a pleasant surprise to me when I learned that he was a teacher in my new high school. But I was never been in one his class. I was happy to know that he was my teacher in Health science. And so I bid my time, waiting for the perfect one. The day he died, I made a surprise visit to his house asking for some private consultation. I timed it in an afternoon where the majority of the town people were out of home working. As an A-class student, I had the privileged not to be thrown out from his house at first sight. He gave a generous fifteen minutes to say my piece. I brought a cake personally made and he was pleased to accept it. I volunteered to cut the cake and he took a knife from the kitchen. He ordered me to talk while I was cutting the cake. But I was not one to beat around the bush and so I asked him eye to eye what he said to Mrs. Harrolds the day she collapsed… and died. He was surprised of my question and was quiet for the next minute. He didn’t ask me how I knew Mrs. Harrolds. When he recovered, he angrily told me to mind my business and leave the house if the was the real reason for my visit. I persisted but he was just as stubborn as I was.  He told me to leave for the last time, I stabbed him then. Quickly and precisely at his heart. It was not my nature to stab someone at his back with a knife. Some twisted code of honor. He looked so horrified staring at me his mouth choking with his own blood. I chose not to listen to the word he was trying to say. I did give him his only chance. He fell to my feet and I watched him to die. He didn’t deserve a smile from me. I didn’t want him writing some dying message using his own blood behind my back, naming me as the culprit, and so I waited. I watched Detective Conan to fall for that. That would be a stupid mistake to make for the next killer-wannabe.
I didn’t wear gloves when I came for it would look suspicious and so I spent the next minutes erasing any trace of myself in his house. I wore the pair of gloves I brought before burning the cake box, leaving the cake itself untouched on the table. I washed the knife of my fingerprints then returned it to his chest. He was dead anyway. I never learned of his argument with Mrs. Harrolds. Some things are not meant to be explained. But whatever it was, he triggered Mrs. Harrolds death. I left his house feeling annoyed and unsatisfied. He didn’t deserve such painless death. I made my way then using the backdoor and narrow alleys to escape. For someone who was born and lives in Penhallow, I made sure to know every shortcut, secret alleys and possible hide outs of the town. It was useful.