Walking is a good therapy for me. I use sex and killing to get out my anxiety and aggression. A good walk though, that calms me down. I walk along the highway often. No one ever drives this road. Occasionally there's a semi passing through, but that's about it. They never stop or give me much mind.

It's still dead middle of summer, so it's nice and warm outside. I walked in my boots that went just about my ankles. A little skin was exposed on my legs because I was wearing jean shorts. I rolled up the sleeves of my flannel shirt as I paced down the side of the road. This was my first walk since I broke my back. It was weird walking with a limp, but the more I walked, the better it got.

This is how I clear my thoughts. After the nights I've been having, that's what I need more than anything else. There's days I have little flashes back to when I was younger, but I never fully think over the memories. They're just too painful. I can't even say my little sister's name. I miss her too much. She was a little ray of sunshine in my horrid world.

The night I put her to rest for the last time, I walked to the neighbors and asked them to call the police. While they were on the phone, I left. I left and I never turned back. For years, it was just me in my car. I went around the country murdering people when I needed or wanted to. In all those years, there was never one witness. That's why they started calling me the Ghost Murderer. That, and I mostly killed fellow ghosts. I took out sleeve crime lords. At some point I just started killing anyone that I could get alone.

Then I met her. The one that turned me in. We all know how the story goes after that. I trusted that bitch. If there's anyone on the top of my hit list, it's her. I can't stop myself from thinking, she's just a few hours down the coast. She lives in California now. There's probably a million cops watching her though. They know I was her dead. So, I let her go for now. If there's ever a situation where I have nothing better to loose, I'll do it.

I thought about what Kuza told me, about being under the moon. We are forced to share the same sky as the ones we hate, just so we can enjoy it with the ones we love. The sky did look so gorgeous tonight too. I should head back to Ricky. As I continued walking with this thought, a truck slowed down beside me.

The semi driver rolled down his window and shouted, "Hey Baby! Need a ride?"

A smirk played at my lips, "Sure."

"Hop on in." He said.

I knew I'd find myself some fun tonight. He was a smelly, fat piece of shit. I look forward to slitting his throat. I've got a pocket knife in my back pocket, don't you worry. The climb into the cab of his truck wasn't fun with a bad back. I don't have much feeling in one of my legs from the accident, so it's not easy to do a lot of shit. Somehow I managed to walk farther than I thought. I realized this when I saw the road sign.

"Where you headed to, Sweet cheeks?" The dirty old man asked me.

"North. I'll let you know when I need out." I responded.

He grumbled, "So what's a pretty little thing like you doing all the way out here?"

I twirled a lock of my hair while I played with the radio. A certain story caught my attention, and I turned it up. Perfect timing. A male reporter read over air, "It has been close to three months now since a group of serial killers went missing. Eye witnesses have claimed to see one of the killers, Devin Sola, walking along the highway here during the night. The police describe Sola as very thin, around six feet tall, tattoo sleeves, shoulder length black dreadlocks, and very pale skin. It is noted that Sola has a habit of presenting himself as a woman, or dressing very feminine. If you have any info for police as to his whereabouts, contact authorities."

The trucker was looked at me with anger and realization painting his face. I smirked with a small giggle as I reached into my back pocket. I flicked the blade open and glared at him out of the corner of my eye.

"It's too late for you." I whispered.

I jumped on the overweight blob. He tried to fight me off. I may be small, but I'm resilient. I dragged that knife across his blubbery chin. His blood spirted out and splattered against the windshield. The semi lost control and spun to a stop. It was now sideways on the road, with another truck coming towards it.

"Shit." I muttered to myself.

As I hurried to get the door open, I swiped the man's wallet off the dash. Then I jumped out of the tall vehical, probably fucking up my back in the process. Whatever. Being fucked up is better than being dead. Just as I got myself to the side of the road, the second truck collided with the first. Bare in mind the first happened to be hauling gasoline. Sparks turned into flames quickly, until the whole load of the first truck was in flames. Then it blew up like fireworks on the Forth of July.

The blast hit me somewhat. It's force threw me back into the tall grass alongside the road. The heat was overwhelming, combine with the smell of chemicals in the air. I know I shouldn't have, but I let the tempting sleep take me over and I passed out.

An old car came up under the overpass. Hm, I say that like it's an important detail. All the cars that come through here are old. The girls around this corner, they know which clients were the gay ones. They sent me over to the car. As the window rolled down, I leaned over and rested my arms on it.

"How can I help you?" I mused.

The man was black, with a wife beater and cropped hair. The typical type of trash that comes around here. He ran his hand along the side of his mouth as he looked at me hungrily. "What can ten bucks get me?" He asked.

"Blow." I replied.

He nodded towards his passenger seat. I walked around the hood of the car, swaying my hips as I did so. I opened the door, but didn't get in yet. "Paid in advanced." I said.

He shot daggers towards me with his eyes. As he reached for his wallet he muttered, "Bitch."

"I've been called worse." I said, accepting the money he gave me and sticking it under my bra strap. "Thank you, Babe."

I got in his car and shut the door. It reeked of pot in here. Yet, he had a cross handing from his rearview mirror. Oh, the irony. He drove a little bit and pulled up beside a building just next to the overpass I work under. This asshole was the type that expected me to do all the work. Fuck you, dude. At least the arrogant type usually cum fast. And, he did. He touched along my body the whole time, but it was over within five minutes.

After he came, I started to move towards the window to spit it out. The man grabbed me by the back of my hair. He wrapped his hand around my throat, "Swallow it, bitch."

I don't know what kind of disease this fuck carries. So I spit his own cum in his face. He let go of me to wipe off his face. I know these type all too well. They all keep their guns under their seats. I swiped his quickly and bashed him in the side of the head with the handle. Then I repeated, getting addicted to the motions. Four hits in, the pussy passed out. I grabbed his wallet and took all that was in it. Then I got out of the car, keeping his gun too. I started to walk home while his head laid on his horn. I might be a bitch, but I'm a crazy ass bitch.

"I think it's that one from the news." A young man's voice said over me.

I fought to open my eyes. There was a bright light that kept going over my eyes. I groaned as I felt my pounding head.

"That's him!" A female voice spoke, "Oh my God, Charlie, that's him! We need to call this in."

"Let's just get him to the hospital. He's got some bad injuries. We'll restrain him." The first replied.

"No, no. They said he gets out of restraints. He just has to be locked up. He's that evil and crazy. This is freaking me out." She stressed.

I opened my eyes and saw a paramedic standing over me. He looked fresh out of medical school. Clean cut, must come from a rich family. That's about all I took in before a bullet traveled through his skull. The woman screamed and I heard the gun go off a second time. The fuck? I pushed the paramedic's body off of me after he had fallen on me.

Then I saw my sexy boyfriend hover over me. I sighed out of relief and relaxed against the grace I laid in.

"I told you not to get yourself in any trouble." He mothered me.

"Sorry." I muttered. I slowly sat up.

Ricky sat down next to me, replying, "No, you're not."

"You're right, I'm not. I still love you though." I smiled widely.

He laughed, "You're such a dork. I love you too." Ricky leaned over and kissed my nose. He stood up, offering me a hand, "Let's get you home, Beautiful."

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. My back hurt like Hell, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to admit to Ricky that I fucked myself up. He would give me an "I told you so" that I know I deserve but I don't want. He wrapped his arm around my waist and let me lean my weight on him as we walked home.