cutterloon2

grabbed me by my shirt and pulled it down. And when I confronted him he said it was an accident. But then he did it again. I was shocked and I told my mother but she did nothing. When we moved from the house that we were living in at that time I was sure that everything would be fine although I hated him. He began to get annoyed with the fact that I hated him. So he tried to blackmail me into liking him. He went into my personal things while I was away and found pictures of me that I had posed for naked to send to my boyfriend. He kept those pictures and e-mailed me, saying that he knew about them, and that he could have taken better pictures for him. I was devastated so I just told my mom about them and what he had done and said and she did nothing. Later, he found out about me doing personal and sexual things with an old boyfriend of mine. He tried to blackmail me saying that he was going to tell my mother unless I did the same sexual favors for him. I was downright angry. I decided once again to tell my mother, but once again she did nothing. And so it goes on that he still lives with us. Tormenting me, looking at me oddly. And I hate his guts.
As I was thinking about all the things that he has ever done to me I picked up the knife and stabbed the wall repeatedly. I imagined it was his flesh that I was piercing with the sharp blade. And then it stuck me like a lightening bolt in a pool of blood. Kill the bastard!
�Wait a second, what am I thinking here?� I thought aloud.
�Come on, Luna. You hate him with a passion. Why not kill the bastard?� Erin tempted.

�You�re serious about this?� I said, pulling the thick kitchen knife out of the wall.

�Hey dude, it was you�re bright idea I�m only here to help you through the motions,� Erin said, her voice getting a little bit creepier by the second,� besides what has Angel done for you that deserves him to live? All he has done has ripped apart your family and plague your life with his presence and horrible way of being manipulative. Now you sit there and tell me that I�m not right with everything that I just said.�

I sat there for a moment trying to pump myself full of adrenaline to take the task, which I had insanely brought to anyone�s attention. If I killed him, whatwould become of me? If I killed him, how would I go about doing it? If I killed him, it had to be perfect!
I rushed about the room looking for a tool with which to commit the deed. I was hysterical. I had a drawer full of knives and all sorts of sharp blades. It was that which I called �My cutter satchel.�
Above me I could hear him and my mother arguing which wasn�t so uncommon. But this particular argument was different, for it contained exactly the data I needed to give me that extra hike of fire for his blood to be spilt. He had raped my sister.

�Damn it!� I shouted throwing my entire drawer over onto the floor.
I just couldn�t seem to find the correct instrument I needed to absorb the life out of the useless asshole. I sat in the far corner of my room trying to think what to use. What wouldn�t be so messy or so loud as to ruin my perfect crime? Sudden a grin became of my mouth and then it turned slowly into a low chuckle and then grew to a louder, slow laugh, and instantly became a deafening, hysterical giggle.
My laughter suddenly stopped. �Eureka!� I exclaimed, �I�ll poison him! I�ll pretend to want to speak to him and be nice. I�ll offer him tea. It will be perfect. I�ll give nightshade and wolf�s bane tea laced with a little bit of ammonia, honey to taste. It�s genius!�
�Not quite Einstein.� Erin interrupted

�What?� I inquired a little bit of offense in my voice.

�What are you going to tell them when they find the body? They�ll do an autopsy and find that he was poisoned and you�ll be the number one suspect. What will you say then Mrs. Perfect crime?� Erin snickered

�Shit you�re right�I�ll burn his body and bury the ashes� or scatter them.�

�Slightly better except for one thing, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO BURN A 260 POUND MAN!?�

� Are you forgetting that we aren�t that far from the Mojave Desert? I�ll keep his dead corpse under the house until tomorrow morning in which I will put him into my car and drive it to the desert, burn him andscatter the ashes�better?� I replied with a little bit of annoyance.

�What are you going to tell your mother and the police when they discover that he�s missing?�

�I�ll tell them that I heard him go out for a walk and never heard him come back.�

With that, the conversation was over. I knew what I had to do. I went into my cabinet of herbs and pulled out two jars: Wolf�s Bane and Aconite (nightshade). I walked up the stairs quietly to avoid any agitation to the rest of my family. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a pot out of the cabinet just to the right of the kitchen sink. I filled it with water from the tap. (Afterall what is the use of using purified water if he is dead?) I took a hand full of each herb an systematically put them into a muslin cloth bag. My brain raced as I did this. �Finally,� I thought, �I will be rid of him. But am I actually going to do this?� I deposited the little bag of herbs into the pot of water, and went under the kitchen sink to secure the ammonia. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, didn�t want any accidents.
�Shit!� I thought just before I touched the bottle of ammonia. �I need gloves.�
I put on the potholders, which were just next to the stove and picked up the bottle of ammonia.
I poured just a little cup full of it to make sure no one was actually watching me pour a whole bottle of ammonia into the tea. I took out the honey and stirred in a few tablespoons. The water had come to a simmer and turned a beautiful raspberry color. Too bad it would be the last color he will ever see, beautiful and deadly all the same. I took off the potholder gloves and put on dish gloves. I poured a cup of the deadly tea into a mug, which, coincidentally, had a picture of a skull and cross bones. I chuckled to myself at this. I poured in the ammonia and stirred in some more honey to cover the taste and smell. I took a big sniff of it to make sure. It smelt just like raspberry and honey tea. Perfect! I thought to myself. I dumped the rest of the besmirched tea down the drain. I washed the dishes and cleaned up any mess that was made. I tip toed myself into the den where the �Angel� resided.