• Jake was bored. Very bored. His parents were out of the house, none of his friends could play, there was nothing on TV, and he had played all his video games to death. As a ten-year old boy, it was very depressing. He sighed, and turned over in his bed. That’s when he heard the noise. A banging, crashing sound. Very quietly, Jake slid off his bed. He picked up the aluminum bat near his bedside, and crept out of his room. I think it came fr- he never was able to finish the thought.

    Stephen looked out the window of his two-story home, and felt something was wrong. Wasn’t Jim, his next-door neighbor usually home by 2:00? He relaxed in his chair. That’s right, Jim was out to dinner with his with his wife tonight, right? They had left their kid Jake at home. Stephan had always liked Jake, their was just something about him. Turning on his T.V., Stephan wondered if he should check on Jake, but ultimately decided against it. Why should he have to deal with this crap at 35? Should this beautiful summer day feel so wrong? He glanced at the clock on his cable box. It read 4:32.

    Frank, staring at the house across the street, saw Stephen’s T.V. flicker to life. He very quickly surmised that Stephen was not aware of what was happening. Frank could remedy that. He pulled his cell out of his pocket, and flipped it open. Crap. No batteries. And how long ago was it that my home phone was disconnected? His charger was outside in his car. No way he was going outside. Not now. No, Stephen is just gonna have to find out on his own.

    Jim held the steering wheel white-knuckled in his hands. It had been roughly 10 minutes since he had killed his own wife. All he knew was that his wife had started to feel very sick a couple of days ago, and had finally passed away in the restaurant. Of that he was certain. He gripped the steering wheel even harder. But she came back. That was also certain. But this is when he felt that his own memory was deceiving him. Had she really bitten off the head of that waiter? Had Jim actually broken the glass on the table? Had he then proceeded to cut off her head? He shuddered, and forced back the dinner that had started to force its way out of his stomach. Now he questioned his memory more thoroughly. The thought of it made him chuckle quietly to himself, silently at first, than louder and louder in pitch until he was practically screaming with laughter, so hard that he was crying. He had enjoyed killing his wife. By the time he rolled his car into the driveway, his mind was already half gone.