The framed picture sat by her computer desk. It was a young, pretty, brunette, high school aged girl wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and a blonde haired surfer boy. They were embracing, and had giant cheesy grins on their faces. They stood in front of the entrance to some amusement park, and the caption of the picture read “Kelsi and Drew, together 4-ever!”


But as she looked closer at it, she felt sickened. His smile was carefree, happy. He didn’t know of the months of pain he’d caused her, the tears that had poured down her cheeks. But tonight, tonight would be different. He would finally pay for those sleepless nights, the days spent in bed crying. Tonight, things were changing.


She slipped on a jacket, and crept into the hall. Everyone was sleeping, she knew. No one was ever awake in this house at three in the morning. Stepping lightly down the stairs, avoiding the one that creaked, she made her way into the living room. She paused for a minute, thinking things through. The kitchen. That was were she had to go next. The butcher’s block full of knives sat gleaming on the counter. The handles stuck out enticingly, and seemed to call her name. She grabbed the biggest one, then moved on to the garage. In the box on the very top shelf, behind the Santa Claus land decorations, sat the pistol. It was not loaded, but the bullets sat next to it. She grabbed them both, and went to her car.


Her car started smoothly and without difficulty. It was a a simple Honda Civic, but it worked well. Leaving the lights off, she backed down the driveway. It was starting to snow, and was eerily quiet. After driving partway down the street, out of distance of the house, she turned on her lights. The radio was playing, and it was annoying. So, she snapped it off, and continued her progression forward.


She knew the way well. After driving one route so many times, she could almost drive it without looking. The roads were country roads, so no one was ever on them, especially not late at night. As she drew closer and closer to the house, her heartbeat quickened. It was exciting, in a gruesome, twisted kind of way.


She parked the car down the street, then got out. She had her purse with her, and it contained the knife and gun. She knew he would get up at six, just like every other morning. Routine was important to him, and he would tell everyone and anyone about it. it was a running joke, really, to make fun of him for his precise times and routines. Drew would take a shower, shave, get dressed, eat two Eggo waffles, then pick up his new girlfriend, Paige. She was blonde, tall, athletic. Nothing at all like Kelsi.


She went over to his car. It was his pride and joy; a 2009 Camaro. Pure white. He had recently gotten it as a gift from his parents, a replacement for his old one. She remembered from him coming over that he never locked his doors, always expecting the best from people. Apparently, that hadn’t changed about him. She opened the driver’s side door, and climbed into the backseat. Here, she would wait for him.


Hours passed. She saw his light pop on at six o’clock sharp, and saw his silhouette in the window. She smiled to herself, and stroked the blade. The feel of the cold smooth metal was invigorating. She sat, and waited.


It was still dark by the time he came outside, and he had no reason to look in the backseat. He climbed in, turned on the car, and music began blaring from the speakers. It was some rapper, and was terrible. He began nodding his head, and put the car into drive. He pulled away, and started his drive down the winding country road. He had driven a mile or so away from his house, when metal flashed in his review mirror, and he felt it’s cold touch against his freshly shaven throat. “Pull the car over, and stop it”, she whispered in his ear. His eyes widened as he saw who the blade’s owner was. “Do as I say, sir”, she mockingly said.


He pulled over, and began wildly blabbering about how she couldn’t do this to him. About how that was in the past, and he thought there were no hard feelings. She shook her head slowly, a malicious smile on her face. “You destroyed my life”, she whispered. “You took my world and turned it upside down. Do you know how that feels? To do that to a person?” She paused. “Of course you don’t. You never had to deal with any of the emotional effects. That was all me. You’ve been having a wonderful life, haven’t you? I must admit, I sometimes come and sit outside your house, just to see if your life has been as bad as mine has. But it hasn’t, I can tell. You have that new girl hanging all over your arm. You two, clutching at each other in your car, late at night. Do you ever think of the past? Ever?”

With this, her voice grew louder and more upset. She took the knife, and held it to his cheek. He quivered, and began saying nonsense, blabbering to try and save himself. She leaned in “Oh no! Looks like you missed a spot shaving.” She took the knife, and cut off an eyebrow. Some skin came with it, and the blood started to trickle out. “Are you sorry yet?” She said softly. His eyes were huge, begging, pleading. He tried to speak, but his voice had simply died away.


She then murdered him, there, on that abandoned country road. When she was done, she had cut him, as one might cut a beef roast, or a spiral baked ham. She had taken the gun to his head as well. She wanted to make sure he was dead. This was all his fault, of course. She pushed his body remains out of the way. There was a national park nearby, and seeing as how they were in Florida, it was swampy and overgrown. She removed her purse from the car, the knife, the gun. Then she set the car in drive, and merely let it drive itself into the swamp. The chances of someone finding the body were slim, and this made her happy.


She walked the distance back to her car, and stayed off the road. She drove home, humming under her breath. Things were finally right in the world. She went inside her house to shower and clean up. The hot steam felt wonderful, and she scrubbed every part of her body, leaving no traces of blood.


Her hair wrapped in a towel, she padded downstairs. There was no need to be quiet now, seeing as everyone had left for their busy days. The small bound photo album lay underneath the coffee table. She pulled it out, to pour over it again as she had done so many other times.


The first page was a news article. “Senior dies in car crash, boyfriend lives” read the caption. It talked about how Kelsi and Drew were driving home from prom. He was laughing and goofing around, and had done some drugs, unbeknownst to Kelsi. His vision was blurred, and he couldn’t see straight. He ended up running off the road. It was an abandoned country road, and no one ever drove down it. Kelsi died on the impact, while Drew only had a bruise here or there.


Kelsi’s mother read through the book of articles, each saying the same thing. She had looked at them many times before, through many sleepless nights. Kelsi had been her only child. Her joy. Her life’s achievement. And then Drew came along. He killed Kelsi. Coldblooded murder. He claimed it was an accident. There was no proof it had been anything but one in court. But her mother knew differently. She knew he had to pay. And so he did. After all, mother always knows best, right?