Another Game Won!

Congratulations!  She didn’t die!  We’ve got the heroine of the hour, here.  How does it feel, Lyndsay?  How does it feel to know that you saved a poor, sweet, innocent life?  A life that now belongs to you.

Are you proud?  I hope you’re proud.  I hope you feel that adrenaline pumping.

why did you do that to her

Not as much as you did!  I didn’t even need to push.  You must’ve been really sorry for the poor girl.  But I think we both know she deserves some comfort after that.

After all, how horrible it must’ve been.  Chloroformed.  Dumped in a coffin with a day’s worth of air and just left to rot on the hope that a useless housewife will come save her.

But there you were!  You handled that shovel like a pro, Lyndsay.

It was all you!  This was my present for you.  You get what so many people have wished for but so few ever actually get.  You got the chance to save a life, and you took it!  Right on time, too.  A few minutes later and she would’ve been choking to death before you even got that lid pried open.

why her

Why not her, thought?

It’s just like a movie, isn’t it?

At least it’s like the memories of a movie.  I don’t have the patience to sit through one.

But it’s a basic law of dramatics, Lyndsay.

You have to save the love interest.

Would it have had any more impact if it had just been a random person down there?

I mean, granted, I could have used your children, but they’d be a bit missed on Christmas.  Not like her.  Still in her graduate dorm, sitting alone and working on her thesis for the holidays.

did you choose her because you knew she would kiss me? Ask me to take care of her?

No, my friend.

I chose her because I knew, if she asked, that you would.

Christmas presents

It should have been a nice day. The kids were up at seven, which is usual, on Christmas Day. They started the coffee for Gordon and myself, which is traditional. They unwrapped their stockings, first, while I made breakfast. Then we all sat down and began to exchange gifts.

Gordon loves to be the one to distribute them. He sits in front of the tree, hands one out to Sarah and Brendan each, sometimes one for me as well, sometimes one for him. The focus is on the kids, of course.

He handed me one, from him. I only ever have the one gift. He buys me something I mention two weeks before - it’s what he’s done every year. I’m never surprised.

He looked confused. A little cautious. He handed me another present, while the twins were tearing apart wrapping paper.

I don’t need to tell you who it was from.

I was scared to open it, in front of him. Not knowing what to expect. Feeling almost queasy, wondering if this was going to be something I wouldn’t be able to explain away.

Instead, it was a mug, wrapped in paper. Just an ordinary coffee mug, for the most part - but Christmas themed, so I knew it was no mistake. A little border around the rim, of mistletoe.

Gordon asked who it was from, and I just said it was probably from a woman I’d met at the grocery store. We’d almost become friends, we run into each other so often - it was weak, but it was all I could think of at the time. He still seemed confused, but, went back to giving out gifts.

Then I took a closer look at the paper the mug had been wrapped in. It was a map.

‘X marks the spot’.

I’m terrified.

I’m glad you liked it!

Just wait until you unwrap it a second time.

Just tell me what you’ve done. Is it Jill? Is this where you buried her?

No, that can’t be right. What did you do?

You’re being very rude right now.

Asking me your Christmas present before you open it.

But I’ll give you a hint.

It’s not a corpse.

Not for another...oh...two and a half hours, probably, at least.

Depending on how much she’s been hyperventilating in there.

Or if she bit her tongue off or something.

Really, any number of things could have happened.

But she should still be alive.

And if you hurry, she might even stay that way!

you’re insane

I’m going

How am I supposed to get there? I can’t take the car. I can’t drive.

You know how to steal a car.

Driving’s not hard.  I’ll walk you through it.

Tick tock.

Time and air are running out.

They used to be sweet

I spent most of the day baking and preparing for tomorrow’s dinner, as well as tonight’s, and the kids have shown not one iota of appreciation. They don’t seem particularly excited for Christmas tomorrow, but they’re also copping some odd attitude about it.

They’ve spent the entire day lazing around the house, bickering, being generally disrespectful. When they started getting really bad, I lost my temper slightly and threatened to cancel Christmas this year. Sarah said ‘you wouldn’t waste the money’. Then she started sneering about the non-existent of Santa Claus.

She’s been so unpleasant, lately, and Brendan is still quiet - traumatized, I think, and I try to make allowances for that, but some of the things he says and does just shock me. And today, they’ve been worse than usual.

I miss the days when they used to get so excited on Christmas Eve that they couldn’t do anything but watch Christmas movies in front of the TV, sitting by the tree, drinking hot chocolate I’d make for them. Brendan used to nearly make himself sick, he’d be so excited. They’d fuss over which cookies to put out for Santa, and they’d walk with me to the grocery store to buy carrots - one for each reindeer, they said, because they didn’t want any of them left out. One for Rudolph, too.

They were so sweet, back then. They made this season something to look forward to.

Now it’s all just more stress. More reasons to be miserable.

I didn’t say I wouldn’t add anything when she was done, though.

I wonder how any of your children could ever be so unpleasant.  They have such a wonderful set of role models

An overworked housewife who’s never actually Lived a day in her life, an overworked professor who’s married to his job more than he is to his face.  And the loveless marriage that’s trapped them together with a pair of twins who get to watch their mother slowly self destruct because of my little push.  I’m waiting for you to thank me, Lyndsay, because your life is a suburban hell.  I make you interesting.  I give your life meaning.  And all I get?  Scorn.   Grudging acceptance.  You should love me.  Love that I’m making your dismal little life actually fun for once.  

I’ll see you on Christmas.

Wouldn’t want to miss my special day, after all.

Holiday stress

I’ve been so busy I’ve fallen horribly behind on the entire holiday rush - it feels like it was December 2nd just yesterday. How did so much time pass?

The 2nd!  That’s when you won your game!  Good times.

The kids aren’t going to school, thanks to classes being let out for the holiday season, which makes everything just that much more stressful. I have to wait until Gordon is home before I can take the bus to go shopping for gifts, and of course, now that the kids are older, none of the old standbys work anymore. They want expensive gadgets and trips and iPhones and gaming consoles and games for the consoles - I don’t even know what half the things they asked for do.

“Waiting for the bus”

Steal a car you fucking pansy.

Christmas shopping is easy!

By a carton for Sarah and a whore for Brendan.

One who won’t recognize you from the job, of course.

That way they can share both gifts.

And I have Christmas dinner to worry about. I went to the grocery store and already, the only turkeys left are pathetic little things that will barely feed my family, I’m certain. I finally found a decently sized one, but since picking it up I’ve been even more sleepless, wondering when I’m going to find the time to cook it.

And wrapping - oh, god, I nearly forgot all about having to wrap the gifts. I may take another trip out and pick up gift bags, instead, and hope that everything will fit in those. They have some pretty large ones, I think...

Oh, here’s an idea.

She’s not been in the dirt that long.

We can taxidermy a toy for your son!

And for Gordon, we’ll give him the pictures I took of his TA and us.

what what pictures did you take

I’m finally breaking you down.

I talk about taxidermy-ing Jill for your son to fuck.

And you’re worried I might have evidence of a certain college student going down your chimney with care.

shut up I am not anything like you

Just get rid of those pictures.

That’s fine.

Besides that’s pretty much the tamest thing I’ve made you do.

Did you know you’re a kinky little slut when you put your mind to it?

I’m too stressed to deal with you right now. Do this after the holidays.

Oooooh.

I have a condition.

I’ll leave you alone.

I won’t even type when you update this dumb little journal.

If you do this for me.

Depends what.

I’ll wait until Christmas to screw with you, if, when it’s done, you go to a bar and humiliate yourself.

Bonus points if you end up going home with someone after.

fine

You promise?

fine I promise

you’ll just make me do it anyway if I don’t

Aw!

It learns.

Oh, and Lyndsay?

Merry Christmas.

It's the little things

Life’s all about the simple pleasures.  There’s nothing quite as simple as strutting around alleys in a short skirt and with an expensive purse.

The excitement.  Who’s going to find you?  A mugger?  A rapist?  A serial killer?  I love how victimized women are in human society.  It’s so much more fun to do this with a woman’s body than a man’s.

I was enjoying myself last night this way, in fact.  Walking down an alley.  Glancing around nervously.  Calling out to shadows.  Really playing up the whole “defenseless housewife” angle.

I was rewarded by a young man with a knife.

“Gimme your purse!”  He screamed.  He was eying the purse, yes, but also how great Lyndsay’s legs are in this skirt, that excellent cleavage she has when the top three buttons on her blouse are undone.

Oh, I thought, I could have fun with this.

So, I released control, and watched the fireworks.

what

No I won’t talk about this

You can’t make me talk about this. No. Please.

Oh come on.

You were great.

Keep going.

THIS ISN’T A GAME

I I don’t know how I even managed to escape alive

You don’t remember?  Let me refresh you.

He grabbed your purse.  You just let him have it, remember?

I remember now stop

Then after he grabbed it, he pinned you to the wall, remember?

He put his hand on your leg and started to push your skirt up.

stopit

He ripped your blouse open.  He called you a whore.

i;m begging you to stop

You struggled to get free.  He touched you.

i don’t wnat to hear anymreo jsut please stop

You used what I taught you.  I’m so proud.

You got the knife away from him.

And you jabbed it in his armpit.

People bleed out so fast if you stab them there.

you made me do it

No, you did it all on your own.

Fight or flight made you do it.

You fought.

I just gave you a weapon.

I can be your sword if you want me to be.

I just need some sharpening.

And something to slay.

i’m going to be sick

please never make me do that ahain

What do I get?

We keep coming back to this, but like any relationship it’s give and take, Lyndsay.

i don’t know

Well, think it over.

In the meanwhile, we need to wash the blood out of that miniskirt.

call the police

It feels like there’s a leak in my brain. When I sleep, when I make dinner, little things are seeping out that weren’t there before. Things I didn’t used to know. Things I don’t want to know.

Did you know that when you cut through a chicken bone, it’s about as difficult as cutting through a human finger bone?

I know that now.

I know how to skin an animal. I know how to skin a human.

Oh good!  You’re finally learning from me.

I know how to cut off someone’s head and mount it on a wall. I know how to hunt. I know how to start fires with nothing more than a rock. I know how to put together a bomb. I know how to sharpen wood until it can work as a knife and where to shove it, to kill someone.

Don’t forget the really sexy stuff.

I know things that make my head spin. In, and out of the bedroom.

and I know how to bring those things that don’t belong in the bedroom into ‘play’. It makes me ill to think about it.

And to think, Lyndsay, you learned some of it by experience.

My point is.

When they reported that Jill’s body had been found, this morning, I found out all her injuries. And I know how I inflicted them.

I have to turn myself in.

No.

I don’t think you will.

I won’t kid myself.

You won’t let me.

But I should be brought to justice. You should be brought to justice. You murdered a little girl.

No, Lyndsay.

We did.

And what makes you think I don’t want to go to jail?

I can have so much fun in jail.

Do you know how many cigarettes I could use you to get?

I would be a god in there.

And when I got bored?

I’d just switch to a guard and walk out.

Then let’s go to prison. I’ll call the police right now and turn myself in.

Would you really do that to Gordon, though?

Or your children?

Thanks to you, they’re better off without me.

Oh no.  If we’re going to go to jail, let’s really deserve it.

“I’m sorry officer, I couldn’t help it.  Sarah just reminded me of Jill.”

“I didn’t even realize it was my daughter until the knife was in.”

“And then I had to kill the rest, I had to.”

“They can’t be lonely in Heaven.”

You will not touch my family. That would bore you, wouldn’t it?

You love threatening me with them. You love scaring me by saying you’ll hurt them.

That’s a lovely hypothesis.

Let’s see if you’re too much of a coward to test it.

Call the police.

See what happens.

I will.

Do it.

Why are you holding that knife, Lyndsay?

STOP IT JUST STOP IT

No, let’s do this.

You don’t think I will.

I think I will.

Why not test it?

I wn’t call the poilce

Are you sure?

The phone’s in your hand.

It’s a good thing you’re already crying, this’ll sound so much better if you’re tearful.

i wont call

There’s a good girl.

A nice, boring girl.

I’m just looking out for you.

You’d never make it in jail, anyway.

I’d see to that.

Crashed the car

Gordon is furious with me. He won’t come right out and say so, but after what I did to the car, I can’t fault him for it. I’ve never driven a day in my life, and suddenly, yesterday, I seemed to ‘wake up’.

I was at a red light, behind the wheel of Gordon’s car.

I didn’t have a clue what to do. I didn’t even know which pedal was the gas. I probably damaged something, hitting both pedals, jerking the wheel...

It was supposed to be a sink or swim moment.

Guess who sank!

I crashed the car. It wasn’t terrible, they said, but I’m lucky the damage wasn’t worse.

You are so pathetic.

You literally couldn’t drive a car when everything was set up for you already!

The damage will cost a few thousand to repair. The car is still drivable, so Gordon still has a way to get to work.

I think what bothers me the most is that I have no idea where I was going.

Do I have to do everything for you?

Looks like.

There are directions in your cell phone, silly.

I don’t have a cell phone.

Check your purse a bit more carefully.

Stop.

I don’t have the money for is.

Yes you do.

I’ve made sure you do.

What

How?

I don’t have the qualifications to be hired anywhere. I know whatever you’re doing isn’t legal. What are you doing?

Oh, lots of things.

Armed robbery’s easy once you know the trick.

Oh, and speaking of tricks.

That’s the other thing we’re doing.

Or, rather, turning.

Stop this stop this right now never do this to me again

They should have left you some messages on your phone.

Why not read them aloud so Gordon can hear?

I’m deleting all of these

Never do this again. I mean it.

Or what?

Are you going to sulk at me some more?

Just stop

What do I get out of “just stopping”?

Do you have any sense of right and wrong at all?

Right is fun!  Wrong is boring.

No.

That’s not it.

Yeah, but what you mean is boring, so I deem it wrong.