• Prologue:
    Excitement

    I felt the rush during my onslaught. Endorphins released into my system. I've found my calling.

    Chapter 4:

    I'm in a bathroom stall, waiting for Rico to show up. He usually comes in while he's skipping. Kids here seem to think it's awesome to spend an entire class period in the bathroom. "I'm toilet adjacent! Take THAT authority!"

    A few minutes pass before i spot Rico step in, walking like he's a ******** pimp or something. I'm spying through a gap between the stall door and wall.

    Rico takes a quick look around, gives another glance to the door, and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket. Knives aren't too uncommon here. Guys think their tough for carrying around weapons they'll never use on anyone.

    Rico stabs at his reflection in one of the mirrors, acting like he's fighting somebody. Shouting like some cliche gangta.

    "Yeah b***h! Take that sucka!"

    Idiot. He checks to make sure nobody's seen him, and then starts shouting at the top of his lungs? Dumbass.

    He stabs the air a few more times, then gets into some retarded tough guy pose, listening to the imaginary cheers of his invisible audience.

    This guy has no idea what violence is. I bet he's never been in a fight in his life, yet he acts like he can kick the s**t out of anyone and everyone.

    With his battle against his imaginary adversary complete, Rico takes another quick scan of the restroom, sticking the knife into his back pocket. He unzips his jacket and takes out a magazine and heads straight into the stall.

    This is what I've been waiting for. He's completely trapped in there, the stalls here are too narrow to let you turn around quickly.

    Using the toilet as a stepping stool, I climb over the top of the stall wall. and creep into the next one. I repeat the process, more slowly this time to make sure Rico doesn't hear me.

    Now I'm in the stall next to him. I think hes taking a s**t, at least that's what I assume from the grunts. Standing on top of the toilet, I peer over the side to get a better idea of where to attack.

    Rico's has his fly open, looking at the magazine -a playboy now that I have a better view.The perv is jacking it!

    I kick off of the toilet back and hurl myself over the top of the stall. My foot connects with Rico's back and slams his head into the wall in front of him.

    A gargled scream escapes him as I slam my elbow into the back of his neck. I grab the knife from his pocket, press the catch, it opens with a swish.

    He's turned around now, eyes wide with shock, trying to pull his pants up. Even when the guy's being attacked, he's trying to save face.

    I thrust the knife at him, blade sinks into his stomach, and comes out with barely a tug. I stab again, this time in the arm.

    "Stop it! Stop!" he yells, pleading for mercy. "Please stop!"

    I don't stop, the thrill of attacking him is too good to give up. I strike again, and again, and again. Delight consumes me, a grin slides across my face, then a smile. I start to laugh, and begin punching him.

    He gives up trying to keep his pants up and tries block, the bravado and confidence gone now that he's facing a real attacker.

    "Why aren't you brave now?" I taunt him. "You were fine when you were messing with Tina yesterday! Did you never think about somebody fighting back?"

    "I'm sorry!" he screams, the fear in his voice almost palpable.

    "Too late!"

    The blade sinks into his throat, cutting any others requests for reprieve short. The light fades from his eyes.

    Dead.
    ************************

    Washing the blood off my hands, coincidentally in the same sink Rico had been standing over not too long ago. I left the knife sitting in his throat, I may be a killer, but I'm no thief.