Righty Tighty

Whenever I’m strangling someone their head always tilts to whatever side my right hand is gripping. I’m trying to strengthen my left hand but I’m not sure if it’s working. Although I do love the strangling part. So, maybe it could be worth it. Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I was born, lived a perfectly normal life and became a cold blooded murderer. Yes, that sounds about right. No major trauma or neglect caused me to become this way. It’s who I am. Maybe who I always was? I don’t know. All I know is someday I’m going to get caught and be held accountable for my heinous acts. Someday. So far, I’ve gotten away with it. All of it.
I have no family left. I didn’t strangle them, just in case you were wondering. My parents are dead and no siblings. I’m a bit of a loner. Obviously. It’s not like there’s a club for murderers. Well, I guess there is, prison. But, I’ve never been there. Yet. I enjoy finding my victims. The grocery stores are just teeming with them. I’m not a horrible looking person. And I can be charming when I want to be. So, it’s not really that hard to lure someone into my grasp.
I met my latest prey at the, well, I can’t tell you where I am. But, it’s local to where I’m currently staying. For now. We touched the peaches at the same time. I timed it that way, but that’s my thing. Struck up a really good conversation. All really good things. Good eye contact. Flirting, check. Phone numbers exchanged. All such a cliche but it really works. You’ve been warned.
Time & place to meet has been arranged. I’m going home to do some left handed exercises. A spring in my step and an evil smile on my face.
The deed has been done. I’m not going into details. That’s just for me and me alone. But, it was spectacular! I will tell you this, the left handed strengthening is not working. My trusty right hand is still overpowering it. Perhaps the left hand is just lazy. Letting the right hand do most, not all, of the work. Doesn’t really matter though as long as the results are positive. For me, not for the idiot that came home with me.
It’s time to leave this town and move onto the next. There’s no burying of my sweet victim. He lies motionless on the couch. So peaceful. He was a tough one. He fought back and everything. I broke a nail. You know when you break a nail so far down that it hurts? Yeah, that happened. And it pissed me off and things went from worse to better after that. Strangling someone is not as easy as they make it seem in the movies or on tv. That shit is hard work. I pick up my suitcase with my strong right hand. It feels good and familiar. I look back at my latest masterpiece and blow him a kiss. And close the door behind me.
I know it’s only a matter of time until they catch me. My days of being free are numbered. But am I really free if the thing I love the most is strangling people?
It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure. I walk down the steps to my car. My high heels clicking on the concrete. I lift my suitcase into the trunk. Catch my reflection in the side view mirror and remember the accident. My right arm severely damaged. “I’m sorry, it has to be amputated…” I know it’s gone but I can still feel it especially when I’m strangling someone. They all feel sorry for the beautiful woman with one arm. They shouldn’t. And neither should you. I’m a horrible monster on the inside.

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