Song: Killing Time by The Kinks

"I'm not a monster, I'm just sick."-Ariel Castro

March 6th, 2014

My bones cracked as I stretched. Being stuck in a position for hours makes me feel old. My heart leaped for joy as I stared at my just completed design. Hours invested in it certainly was not in vain.

Just then my stomach growled. Damn! I had forgotten to eat, again. "Sorry," I mumbled, patting my stomach. "I got carried away."

Time to put something into you. I patted my belly once again as I stood. My feet shuffled across the floor as I walked to the kitchen. Please let there be food. I swung the refrigerator door open. And there was no food.

I slammed the door shut. "Ouch!" I stuck my forefinger in my mouth and sucked on it. I slammed my finger when I shut the door forcefully, not knowing it was there.

I glanced at the wall clock; it was almost 8:00 p.m. I decided to dash to the store and purchase some groceries.

After I grabbed my keys and wallet, I headed for the door. I made a decision to walk. There was nothing I had to hurry home to do.

Pulling the hood over my head, I welcomed the cold air. The moon shone brighter than the morning star. As usual, few people were on the street. Sometimes, I think I have ghosts as neighbors, because I rarely see them.

Come to think of it, I have lived here for over three years and I could count the number of times I have come in contact with my neighbors. I only hope I'm not the ghost neighbor.

I could figuratively hear my neighbors whispering behind my back, saying all manner of things about me because they don't know me. But I don't care.

Anyway, the grocery store I decided to go to was the one about thirty minutes' walk from my house. Walking there served as a form of exercise for me. Especially since today was an office free day for me. I worked from home.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where one minute you are in a place that's as quiet as a graveyard, then the next minute you, find yourself in a place that's as loud as a daycare? Well that's how my street is compared to the next street.

I often wondered why? Maybe there is a secret way the government knows the people that have the potential to be quiet and somehow manipulate them into staying on the same street? Okay, now I sound like all those paranoid conspiracy theorists.

I had better stop, because I'm sure the government does not want to kill me. Maybe the NYPD and New York citizens want to, but certainly not Obama. Hell, I have never met the man before. Why would I think he wants me dead?

Jeez, talk about going off track.

Okay, back to the subject at hand. As I walked on the busy street, I thought of what the news was saying about me. Today, the captain of the 59th precinct addressed the public. She said that they had been reading my letters and they were using it to build a profile.

She added that they are close to finally identifying who The Midnight Killer is. And the truth is that I believe her. The end is near. I can feel it. I think it's time to start putting my house in order.

As I processed all this information, I somehow managed to get to the store, purchase all I wanted to purchase and headed home. But this time, I took a different and longer route. There is no hurry in life.

Not up to five minutes after I turned into my street, I noticed a little boy clinging to a couple who I assumed were his parents. My pace slowed. I wanted to listen in on their conversation.

"Please don't leave me with her. I hate her," the boy begged his parents.

The mother knelt and hugged him while staring at the woman standing behind the boy. "Sweetheart, she's your babysitter. Please like her for mommy. Daddy and mommy have to go away for a few days."

"Take me with you. I promise to be good." The boy cried. The woman who I now knew as the sitter looked downcast.

"It is an unexpected journey and it's for work," the mom said.

I would have continued on my way, but something about the way the boy begged beckoned to me. So, I moved to a hidden spot and listened in.

"But she does bad things to me," the boy added.

"Enough!" the father said. "I don't want to hear you complain about your sitter again. You keep making stuff up so we can fire her. But we won't. You are stuck with her. So, better start liking her, young man."

The boy whimpered and nodded. I looked at the so-called sitter and I caught her smirking. Strange. She was up to something. I had a feeling that the boy was not making anything up.

The mother kissed the boy's cheek. "Bye, baby." She turned to the sitter. "Please take care of him."

The sitter nodded and said, "I will."

The father ruffled the boy's hair, and then got into the car. The mother joined him and they drove off.

As soon as they left, the sitter pulled the boy's ear. "I told you not to say anything. Good thing that they didn't believe you." Then she dragged him into the house.

Seems like we have a wicked sitter on our hands. Don't worry boy, The Midnight Killer has come to rescue you.

I hurried over to my house to get my car and the syringe. By this time, the street was devoid of humans. I slowly drove over to the house, so as not to attract unwarranted attention. I pulled in front of the house as quiet as possible.

I picked the lock of the door. When you grow up in a rough neighborhood, you acquire various survival skill sets.

I tiptoed around the house, searching for the boy and the sitter. Muffled cries and moans could be heard from upstairs. So, I headed towards the direction of the noise. I noticed a door left ajar, so I peeped in.

The sitter was naked on the bed, thrashing and moaning while the boy was between her legs orally stimulating her as he cried. I saw red.

I debated with myself if I should march in there and save the boy. I decided to act now and think later. Just as I was about to enter, the moaning stopped. She then told the boy to go to his room.

I hurried downstairs. I heard a door slam shut. Probably the boy trying to lock himself in his room. I tiptoed back upstairs to the sitter's room. I could hear the shower running. I entered the bathroom; her back was towards me.

Before she would turn and notice me, I quickly jabbed the syringe into her neck. Her naked body collapsed into my arms. I wrapped a towel around her body and placed her on my shoulder, and I walked downstairs.

As I was about to leave the house, a notepad on the dining table caught my attention. An idea struck me. I walked over to the table, and placed her on the chair. I picked up the notepad and pen and wrote:

Dear Dad and Mom,

You should have listened to your son when he complained about the sitter. Apparently she has been sexually molesting him. Since you refused to believe him, I have handled the situation but your son will need serious counseling. Always listen to your son; never assume he is making stuff up.

Signed...

The Midnight Killer

P.S: Remember to ask for his forgiveness.

When I finished, I put the notepad and pen down. That's when I sighted the parent's cell number, so I gave them a call with the house phone.

"Hello, is everything alright?" the mother asked over the phone.

I tried as much as possible to disguise my voice. "You need to come back home. Something happened to your son." I hung up. Then lifted her body and carried her out to my car. After, I placed her in the trunk; I got in and drove home.

"She was giving me oral sex, and she got carried away... so I choked her."-Arthur Shawcross

Thank you for reading THE SERIAL KILLER IN ME. Please vote, comment, critique and share if you liked it. I'm really grateful.