Jessie's Story (Unfinished) - Please Read Warning
 

Hello, this is a story that I writing, called Jessie's Story. It isn't finished yet, but this is what I have so far. There are parts of this that I had to cut out, due to the restriction to keep it out of the Rated R category. Anyway. The original story can be found here in it's full wording.

WARNING: This story contains:

Violence
Adult Language
Adult Themes (Non-Sexual)
Adult Themes (Sexual, though not yet)

If you do not agree with these things, or are not willing to accept them, please do not read this, I don't want to see complaints. No, this is not a gore filled -kills a million guys with a steak knife- story. This is a more mature story, and neither the violence, nor the sex, are the real point of it.

If you read this story, comment please, if you enjoyed it or not. If you have constructive criticism, please post, if you have insults, keep them to yourself.

Thanks everyone for your time.

Chapter 1
 

He was drunk again. Not surprising. He was drunk every night. Jessie could hear the yelling coming from downstairs. Mostly his stepdad, his mom never said much during these nightly bouts. Jessie lay on his bed and tried to go to sleep, but the shouting was getting louder. He must be drunker than usual, because he was getting loud enough to where Jessie could hear him clearly, even though his room was the attic.

He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. He didn’t even know why she stayed with him; he was always like this and would never change. Jessie thought he was a waste of sperm, and should have been aborted. Just as Jessie was getting ready to fall asleep, he heard a loud crash and could hear his mother crying loudly. Jessie jumped out of bed, slipped into his jeans and ran downstairs. As he turned onto the stairs leading to the first floor, he could see his mother slumped against the wall holding her face, blood dripping through her fingers, broken glass scattered all over the floor.

Her mother looked over at him and said “I slipped and fell, I’m alright go back to bed.” Jessie looked over at his stepdad, Brad, and he slurred in agreement, saying “Yeah, the dumb bitch don’t even watch where she’s going.” Jessie said “O.K.” and went back upstairs, and as he was walking he could hear him start yelling at her to get up.

Jessie climbed the stairs leading to his room, the anger in him rising. His pulse was pounding, and he had his fists clenched. He was sick of this. Every night there was yelling, every morning his mother had some new bruise or cut to show off. He was no longer thinking, just moving on autopilot. He walked down the hall to where the ladder steps leading to his room were.

As he opened the door to his bedroom, he stopped. “Fuck that,” he said and grabbed the baseball bat he used for practice during the game season. He walked calmly back down the stairs, not a single thought in his head about what the results of this could be or what exactly was going to happen. He turned the corner of the steps once more, and saw his stepfather standing there, cursing at his mother as he drank from his glass of whiskey.

Jessie’s mother saw him coming and her eyes widened, and all his stepfather could do was say “What?” before the baseball bat slammed into the side of his skull echoing a solid crunch into the room. Brad crashed to the floor and the room was still. The silence was suffocating Jessie, all he could hear was his mother’s breathing and his own.

“Oh my God,” his mother said as she let herself fall to the floor. Jessie looked at the baseball bat in his hand, and then down at Brad, still lying on the floor. He saw the blood trickling from his stepfather’s ear, the glazed stillness in his eyes. It finally hit Jessie like a brick wall.

He had just killed his stepfather.

Chapter 2
 

His mother looked up at him with a face full of horror. What had he done? What was he supposed to do now? He let go of the bat, and the sound it made as it clattered to the floor was like thunder. It seemed to echo in the silent room forever.

“What do I do now, mom?” Jessie said, giving her a questioning look, as though she had been through this before. “How the hell am I supposed to know, Jessie!? You just killed your father!” Jessie gave her an angry look. “He’s not my father,” he said quietly. “Jessie, what you did was wrong.” She tried to reach out a hand to him and he slapped it away. “Wrong? How can you sit here and say that? Do you not see the blood on your hands? Or feel the cuts on your face? How long were you going to let this shit go on, mom? Forever? Until he killed you? What?” His mother backed away, and looked down. She knew he was right. Maybe he had done things the wrong way, but not doing anything would have been wrong too.

“Jessie you have to leave. They’ll know it was you, you have to get out!” His mother was suddenly more horrified at the idea of Jessie being caught than she was of her husband being dead. “Where am I supposed to go? I don’t have anywhere.” His mother grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes. “Anywhere, Jessie. Just don’t let them find you here! Get as far away from here as you can,” she said with a sudden calmness, it was almost as if she was asking him to pick up a dozen eggs on his way home.

His mother stood up and walked over to her purse on the table. She took out some money, and handed it to Jessie. She kneeled down and took Brad’s wallet out of his pocket and gave it to Jessie. “I feel like a thief,” she said with a laugh. Jessie couldn’t laugh with her. He was thinking about how serious this was and how much trouble he would be in if he was caught.

He would go west. He would go see Robert, his old friend. Robert lived in Los Angeles. He didn’t know exactly where, but he knew he had the address written down somewhere. He went up to his room and stopped for a moment to look around. This would be the last time he would see this room. He said goodbye to his snake, Zephyr, and his two fish, Mike and Ike.

This was the room he had grown up in, mostly staying up here alone since his father had died when he was six years old. Jessie took the money he had in his savings stash in the closet, around two hundred dollars. “From now on, I need to think about survival,” Jessie said to himself. He put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. Everything he was wearing was black, he hoped nobody would recognize him driving down the street.

He finished dressing, and took out a notebook and pen. He sat at his desk, and decided to write a letter to the police. He wanted them to find it, so they could at least see his point of view. He started writing, a deep anger welling inside of him.
 

“Dear Unknown Officer,

I don’t know who you are.
I know why you’re here though.

I’ve killed my stepdad. Yeah, I won’t deny it. He deserved it. He’s been married to my mother for 11 years, and for the last 9 he’s been abusive of her. You see those cuts on her face? Compliments of his whiskey glass. How would you feel to wake up in the morning knowing that your mother will have some new bruise, cut or burn to hide?

I couldn’t sit by and let it happen anymore. I will admit that I wasn’t thinking when I hit him with the bat, but I am thinking now. I think there were probably other ways of handling the situation, but he deserved what he got.

He was a true bastard.

I don’t know where I’ll go, and even if I did I don’t think I’d tell you. Not that I have anything against you, I know you’re just doing your job, but I won’t go to prison over him. I’d rather die. I know you will look for me, and in all honesty probably catch me. I just wanted to write down my side of it, if I have one.

Please, help my mother. She’s been abused for so long I think she believes it’s normal. She needs medical attention.

The thing I hate Brad for the most is that now that he’s gone, I can’t be there for my mother.

Please take care of her.

I wish you the best, Unknown Officer, and good luck, I hope the paths of life can let us meet on friendly terms.”

Jessie Allan Quinn


 

Jessie grabbed his bags, flung them over his shoulder and walked out of his house.

His life will never be the same again.

Chapter 3
 

Outside, the cold November wind was nipping at Jessie’s cheeks.

He had never done this before, but he had seen some movies and read some books, and of course knows what his father taught him. He at least knew that the cops would be looking for his car. He needed to do something to change it. He thinks back to when his mom first gave him this car. He had thought that it was a stupid car, and a common one at that. Now, he’s glad that it’s a common vehicle. He slides into the driver seat and closes the door.

He starts up the car, looks back at the house, and drives away. The night’s events come rushing through his head, it all seemed surreal. He half expected to wake up and be lying In bed, the warm morning sunshine spilling onto his face, but no, he felt the cold November wind scraping at his cheeks. He pulled over onto a side street, and shut off the car. He was losing it. He gripped the steering wheel and began to cry uncontrollably. He wasn’t crying because of what happened, but because he knew he was alone now. He didn’t even have any friends to call.

His tears were shaking him, he clenched one fist and slammed it into the dashboard. “Fuck!” Jessie yelled into the dark solitude of his vehicle. He wiped the tears off and brushed his hair away from his face. He started the car up again, and decided to alter the car next. It didn’t take him long to find a car matching his. A light green 1994 Toyota Celica. Jessie pulls over behind the car, behind a 7-11. It must belong to an employee there. He opens the trunk to his car, and takes out a small toolbox. He takes out a screwdriver and walks over to the other car.

Making sure nobody is around, and that he can’t hear any footsteps, he crouches down behind the car and slowly unscrews the license plate. A few minutes later, after switching his license plate with theirs, he puts away his tools and climbs back into the car. He drives through the alley and turns down the street. A few blocks later, he comes to his usual liquor store. He pulls into the parking lot and walks inside.

“Hey Slim, let me get a pack of Camel’s,” Jessie says looking up at Slim with a smile. Slim puts down his magazine and smiles. “Ah, sure Jessie. What’re you doing out this late? Out partying?” Slim laughs and puts the cigarettes on the counter. “Nah, just had a rough night, thanks Slim,” he says as he puts a five dollar bill on the counter. He takes the cigarettes and begins walking out the door. “Jessie!” Slim calls out to him, and Jessie turns around slowly, a sudden panic filling his head. Jessie thinks to himself that somehow, Slim must know what he had done. Must know that he was a murderer, a criminal. Slim tosses Jessie a Bic lighter. “Take it easy, Jessie. Don’t smoke too much,” Slim said before going back to the magazine he had been reading.

Jessie lit up a cigarette before he was even in the car. Taking a long drag off of the cigarette made him feel better. He couldn’t smoke at home, even though Brad had smoked. Jessie brushes his hair back. He slides into the Celica and starts it up. Jessie can feel something inside of him changing, dying, and something new being born. Jessie drove the car out into the fields on the outskirts of town. He drove in circles for a while, kicking up dirt and giving the car a new coat of mud.

The transformation had begun.

Chapter 4
 

Jessie stopped the car, a cloud of dust swirling around it in the rising sun’s light.

He got out of the vehicle, and listened closely. The sound of the field dirt crunching beneath his feet was always a sound that he liked. It reminded him of his father. Jessie’s father had been in the military, he was a Marine Corps man. Some of what Jessie knew, his father had taught him, and some of the other things Jessie learned by listening to his father’s advice. He learned how to fight, hunt, basically how to survive, by the time he was 12.

It didn’t do him much good right now though. He wasn’t lost in the wilderness, or traveling through a jungle. He was in an urban environment, and he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Jessie took his screwdriver out of the trunk again, and began removing the hubcaps of the car. The bare black tire stared at him like a waking homeowner might stare at a burglar standing in their bedroom.

Jessie put the hubcaps and tool back in the trunk, and sat on the hood. He lit up a cigarette. The bright morning sun shone down on his face. It was time to go shopping. Hopefully the police hadn’t been to his house yet, since it had only been a couple of hours. Jessie drove over to the Wal-Mart in town, and walked inside. The cool air conditioning felt good on his face, and he felt relaxed. Immediately, Jessie went to the beauty section, and it wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for. A hair bleaching kit, scissors, comb, hair gel, and makeup were tossed into his shopping cart.

Jessie had never worn makeup before, but to him he wasn’t dressing up. He was camouflaging himself. He also purchased a package of latex gloves, a denim jacket, a black buttoned t-shirt, jeans and some new boots. He walks out of the store, back into the bright sunlight, and wonders where to go next. He finds a hotel on the outskirts of town, and rents a room under his father’s name for the night. The clerk asked him for identification, so he told her it was under his father’s name, but he showed her his driver’s license. Since the last names matched, she let him sign for the room. Jessie breathed a sigh of relief.

He drops his bags on the floor, sits on the bed, and reaches into his pocket. He has five-hundred and seventy-eight dollars left, not counting some change. Jessie puts the money in his wallet, and sets it on the nightstand. He takes the beauty products and walks into the bathroom. It’s time for a makeover.
Looking into the mirror, he sees someone other than the boy he had known a couple of days ago. He was different now, and it scared him. The fear, however, was detached. It didn’t bother him that he was a murderer. It didn’t bother him that he was running from the law. It was his life, and he intended to keep it, and keep it freely.

He takes out the scissors and opens the package. Having set them down on the counter, he turns on the faucet. He runs cold water through his hair, and combs it out. He begins snipping at his hair, trimming it half as long as it used to be. It was a mere three or four inches long now, from the six or seven that it was. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his hair being in his face anymore. He takes off his t-shirt and throws it on the floor, the sweatshirt having been taken off in the morning. He mixes the bleach and solution in a bowl, and begins to apply it. Once he has all of his hair covered in the thick white substance, he sits on the toilet and lights a cigarette.

The room is hazy, filled with the pungent smell of cigarette smoke and the bitter burning of chemicals. Six cigarettes have come and gone, their lives literally gone in a puff of smoke. Jessie figured it was about time to rinse out his hair. He stripped naked, and turned on the shower. The bleach fumes were burning his eyes, he needed to rinse them clean. The shower was cold, but he didn’t care. The icy water stabbed at his skin, fumes stung his eyes, and smells tore at his throat. It was hell. He thought to himself, as the old saying went, to create we must first destroy.

The bleach began running down his body and he closed his eyes. He held his breath, the fumes were overpowering now. His only solace was that cold water, soothing his burning flesh. The chemicals burned at his whole body, especially his genitals. He ignored it though, clenching his fists. It was time for him to grow up. Pain was something that he would have to get used to, maybe even enjoy.

Finally the bleach was gone and the water ran clear. It was time for the next step in the transformation. Jessie reached into the bag from the store and took out piece of his makeup set. It was a makeup foundation a few shades darker than he was. It was light enough to blend well and look normal, but dark enough to make him look different. He put on a pair of the latex gloves and began applying the makeup. It was easy to apply, since it was an oil based cream.

Once he was done applying the foundation he applied some blush. It would make his skin look more natural. He knew he wasn’t doing this perfectly, but that was fine with him. Humans are human because of their imperfections, and he didn’t want his skin looking perfect, that would only draw attention. Once he was done with the blush, he took out the hair gel. He applied a glob of it into his palm, and began rubbing it between his hands. He slicked it through his hair, and then messed up his hair just to spread it even. He spiked his hair slightly, and put away the hair gel.

Back in the hotel bedroom, he put on his new clothes. He had other clothes, but he didn’t want to be wearing them right now. Someone might recognize them. Jessie sat on the bed and put on his boots. He thought to himself how strange it was, it didn’t bother him at all that all of this was going on. He tied his boots, put on a pair of sunglasses he had in his bag, lit a cigarette and stood up. He walked down to the vending machines, grateful that they were in the back of the hotel rather than the front. Now that he had something to drink, he could sit and think about where to go next.

He knew he would go west to see Robert, but the more he thought about it the less he wanted to see him. How much would he be able to help him? Would he even be willing to? He didn’t know these things, and that is what made him uneasy. For all he knew, Robert would turn him in. Jessie walked out to his car, and took the road map he had in the glove compartment. He sat at the table in his hotel room, and spread it open. He looked at the routes he had available to go to California.

He could no longer stay here at the Abbey Inn, and would leave before morning. By 5:00am tomorrow, he would be out of this Best Western, out of St. George, and on his way out of Utah. He lit another cigarette and went into the bathroom to check on his appearance. Jessie looked in the mirror.

He did not see Jessie Allan Quinn staring back at him.

Chapter 5
 

The room was pitch black when Jessie opened his eyes.

It was 3:45 in the morning. It was time to go. Jessie lit up a Camel, the burning ember a fiery glow in the darkness. He began packing his bags, making sure not to leave anything behind. He zips the last bag closed, and drops it by the door. Now for the hard part. He walks into the bathroom and turns on the light. He needs to get rid of any evidence. If they find anything, they might figure out that he bleached his hair and cut it. He begins taking all of the hair and putting it in one of the bags from Wal-Mart.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to examine the floor and counter to make sure there was no hair left. He checks the shower and finds a couple hairs. Into the bag they go. Jessie wipes down the counter, floor and shower with a wet towel, and puts that in the bag too. He makes sure that the room looks exactly as it did when he came in, as if he had never been here before. The bag also becomes home to the cigarette butts and ashes from the ashtray. Even his Sprite that he bought yesterday went in the bag. He is now ready to leave.

Jessie puts his bags in the trunk, and the bag of evidence in the passenger seat. He walks into the hotel office, and checks out. He gets into the car, and leaves. He stops at the Country Store and gets gas, some snack food and a couple of drinks. While driving down the road toward Interstate 15, he stops in a dirt field. He takes the bag of evidence and sets fire to it. The smell of burning hair makes him nauseous. Once he is sure that the evidence is mostly burned, he buries it and heads back to the car. He gets onto Interstate 15 and begins heading out of Utah, and into Arizona.

He had looked at the map earlier. He would follow Interstate 15 through Arizona, Nevada, and into California, all the way to Los Angeles. He puts on a techno CD and blasts the music. Driving had always been something that soothed him, it helped him feel like he could run away from all of his problems. Even now, that’s exactly what he was doing; running.

Jessie had spent most of his life depressed and angry at people. When his father died, he felt sad, but detached. Since his father had been in the military, there were many times when he wasn’t around, and although Jessie knew his father, there wasn’t as strong of a bond as he would have wanted. When his mother began dating Brad, Jessie was angry, he felt like she was betraying his father. Over time though, Jessie came to accept it. Brad was a really nice guy; he’d take them out to dinner all the time, and buy Jessie things. Once they got married though, that all changed.

Jessie never had many friends, he was very anti-social. There were many times when he would want to talk to someone, make an attempt at friendship, but in the end he didn’t have the courage. His step father always told him that nobody wanted him, and that he was just in the way. After years of hearing it, Jessie began to believe it. Every time he wanted to befriend someone, he would think “Why would they want to be friends with me? I’m just in the way.” Jessie cried a lot.

He was angry at everyone, though he never felt violent toward them. He felt as though he was the problem, but he didn’t know why. He wanted people to get to know him, before they decide that he is in the way. For a while, Jessie wanted to kill himself, though once again, he didn’t have the courage. He would sit in his room and listen to music while drawing. He liked to draw. Brad had hated him, and used every chance he got to make sure Jessie knew that. He would come into Jessie’s room and tell him to turn down his horrible music, and he’d grab Jessie’s sketchbook and say “What is this garbage?” and throw the book, or tear out the page and crumple it.

Now that Jessie thought about it, he knew that Brad’s death was inevitable. It was just a matter of time. He supposed that him cutting his mother’s face that bad was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Jessie lit another cigarette, and put the window down slightly. He liked the cool air in his face. The loud music calmed him, made him feel alive. He reached into the baggie from the gas station and took out an apple. It was a unique taste, the sweet juiciness from the apple, the dry bittersweet taste of the cigarette. A few days ago, Jessie would have thought that smoking while eating was absurd. Now though, he simply appreciates the different tastes.

It seems strange to him that he can be running from the police, wanted for murder, and yet, he sits here and thinks about how nice the apple tastes with the cigarette. It’s as though he is not worried at all. Jessie knows that he is no longer the same boy. It was a funny situation to him, he spent his whole life thinking that nobody wanted him, and all of a sudden the police wanted him very much. Jessie laughed. He threw the apple core out of the window. “What a wonderful morning,” Jessie said with a smile. He laughed again, and sped up the car.

As Jessie was speeding across state lines, he didn't know that back home, the police had already found Brad, and Jessie’s letter, and had spoken to his mother. His mother told the police that she didn’t know where he had gone. The police had a paramedic check his mother’s wounds, and ask her if Jessie had done it. She said no, that Brad had done it, and that was why Jessie had done that to Brad in return. The paramedic had given her a sympathetic look. He didn’t want Jessie to get caught, he thought it was for the best that Brad was gone. As a paramedic he’d seen too many of these battered women to feel sorry for an abuser.

The police were examining the letter, trying to figure out how smart Jessie might be. They searched his room for any other evidence, but found nothing. It surprised them that they didn’t even find pornography, drugs or alcohol, which was normal for them to find in a teenager’s room. They checked Jessie’s computer, to see if he had left any information there, such as where he might be going, but they found nothing. They checked his browser history, to see if he had looked at any maps or locations, but he hadn’t. Once again they were surprised to have not found any pornography.

They were trying to analyze Jessie and fit him into a profile. As far as they knew, he had no friends, no girlfriend, nothing. He seemed like a very anti-social, but otherwise normal boy. They didn’t find any notebooks with death filled poetry, no violent drawings, nor did they find any plans to kill anyone, nothing at all. The only thing they found in the room written by Jessie was the letter, a grocery list, and a note to himself reminding him that he was almost out of sketching paper. The key to finding out more about Jessie, they realized, would be his sketchbook. The one thing they could not find.

Jessie threw his cigarette butt out of the window, and took a drink from his coffee.

Yes indeed, he thought, what a wonderful morning it is.

Chapter 6
 

Jessie has been on the road for roughly an hour and a half now.

During short drive through Arizona and into Nevada, he began to think about his actions. He has become someone else. He no longer recognizes who he is, and that scares him in a way. Jessie had always been a mellow guy, trying to make more friends than enemies. Now though, he feels like a lone wolf, and he likes it. It’s a rush. A couple of times he even wanted to say cliché movie lines, like “It’s me against the world!” Though, he resisted that urge.

The sun was beating down on the car like a hammer on a nail. Jessie watched the road waver with the heat. He sees a sign for a place called Glendale and decides to get some refreshment. He pulls in off the interstate. He sees some buildings and pulls over. He finds a café and walks in.

There are maybe two or three other customers, they look like locals. A waitress tells him to sit anywhere he’d like, and Jessie sits down at a booth where he can see his car. The waitress walks over to his table and hands him a menu. “Howdy, welcome to the Glendale Café, my name’s Sarah, I’ll be your waitress today,” she said with a smile. He looked up at her, and smiled. “I’ll just have whatever your special is today, Sarah.” She took the menu from his hand. “Sure thing, hon. What would you like to drink?” Jessie gestured indecision with his hand and said “Um, I guess just a Coke or something. Anything really is fine, so long as it’s cold.” The waitress nodded and walked away from the table.

Jessie sat in silence. A week ago he would have checked her out, or thought that she was cute. Now though, he’s indifferent. He hardly remembers anything she said. He feels like his answers were scripted. She returned with his coke, and a smile. “Here ya go hon. Ice cold Coke.” He took the drink. “Thanks, Sarah.” She looked down at him as he drank his coke, and said “So, I figure a cute guy like you is heading to Vegas, right? Headin’ out for some fun?” He took the straw out of his mouth. “Yeah Sarah, you sure got me figured out. I’m heading to Vegas alright,” he said with a smile and laughed.

He was acting so natural. He felt like a great deceiver. How could she be fooled? How could she not see that he was a murderer? A dangerous criminal? He’s wanted for killing someone, and here she is, hitting on him. And he was so natural. He didn’t even feel like himself anymore. Who was this guy sitting in his seat? Wearing his clothes? He looked up at her and smiled. “Sarah, what are you doing later today?” She blushed and seemed startled for a minute. “I, I, I—Well, nothing really. I don’t have any plans, why?” Jessie looked up at her and said “Well, how about spending the day with me in Vegas? My treat!”

“But I don’t even know your name!” She said with a laugh. He took her hand in his. “My name is Jessie. Pleased to meet you.” He shook her hand. “Now we know each other! So, what do you say? Want to come?” She smiled. “Okay Jessie. I get off work in an hour.” A ding was heard from the counter. “Ah! Jessie your food, let me go get it!” Jessie took a sip from his soda. She was a cute girl. Probably a year older than him. He wondered why she was so quick to agree to go with him. It seemed strange.

She came back with his food. “Here you go, Jessie! I have to get back to work, so I’ll see you in an hour, okay?” He took the plate from her and said “Sure thing, Sarah. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Jessie ate.

Chapter 7
 

Jessie was sitting on his car smoking a cigarette when Sarah came out.

She looked very cute, her waitress skirt was nice and short. Jessie slid off the hood of his car and threw down his cigarette as she walked toward him. “Ready to go?” he asked her. “Yeah, I’m ready,” she replied. They got into the car and Jessie started the engine. He smiled and said “So, what do you want to do when we get to Vegas?”

She laughed and said “I want to go see the fountains, I love the fountains. I used to go there all the time when I was a little girl.” With his eyes still on the road, Jessie asked “So you don’t go there anymore?” She looked down “No, not really. After my mother died, we didn’t go out much anymore.”

Curious, Jessie asked her, “Why were you so willing to come with me? After all, I’m a complete stranger.” She smiled and looked at him. “Well, you introduced yourself to me, so you’re not a complete stranger. And-“ she looked down at this point, “I don’t like being at home. My dad gets his kicks out of me, literally.” He felt sad. It reminded him of his mother. “I’m not really going to Vegas.” She looked at him with alarm. “What!?” He laughed. “Well, I’m going to Vegas today, with you, but that wasn’t where I was heading. I’m heading to California.” She seemed to relax a little. “Oh. Why are you going so far?” He clenched his teeth and turned to her. “I’m wanted by the police.”

She looked down for a minute. “Can I ask why? What did you do?” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I killed someone.” Her eyes became large. “You… killed someone?” He laughed. Her alarm seemed to raise with his laughter. “Yeah, I killed someone. My stepfather. He liked to get his kicks out of my mom, literally. So I smashed his skull with a bat. You know, I wasn’t really thinking at the time, but I kind of enjoyed it. He was a fucking douche.”

Her eyes closed for a moment. “Can I have a cigarette, Jessie?” He reached into his shirt pocket and tossed her the pack. “Those’ll kill you, don’t you know?” She lifted her head up, blew out a cloud of smoke, and looked at him. “Would you do it again?”

He looked at her. “Maybe. I’m different now. I didn’t used to be like this. Why do you ask?” She smiled. “I want you to teach me how.” He looked at her for a moment. “Teach you how to kill someone? I don’t know how much I could teach you. I guess, you know, you just do it.” She laughed.

“No, Jessie. I mean, how do you do it. Not how you kill them, but how you can bring yourself to do it.” He blinked. He had never thought of that before. How did he bring himself to do it? “Sarah, I just did it. I was angry.” She took a drag from the cigarette. “I’m angry. Do you think I could do it?”

“Sarah, I don’t really know. We just met. Hand me a smoke, will you?” She took a cigarette out of the pack, put it in her mouth and lit it, and handed it to him. “Thanks.” She took another drag off of her cigarette. “I want to kill my dad. Will you help me? I promise if anything happens I’ll tell them I did it alone.” He looked at her. Part of him found this conversation to be very arousing. He looked at her. “Okay. I’ll help you.” She clapped her hands. “Yay! Thanks Jessie!” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best Jessie!”

What was with this girl? She was acting like he had just bought her a box of chocolates, not agreed to help her commit murder. In spite of how much he knew he should not be doing this, he could not resist. He wanted her; and he wanted to kill. Something was changing in him. He craved the thrill of blood. They turned the car around and headed back to town. They had some work to do.

Jessie had agreed to kill someone else, and he had never felt more alive.

Thanks!
 

Thanks a bunch! I generally update it at a steady rate, it's kind of a project for me. As soon as I add more, which will probably be tomorrow, I'll let you know via PM. =)

this is very good, thank you for the warning. Some people really don't like any violence at all. It's a little odd, but..

I can't wait to see more of this.you've got a good story here, and I just hope it has a happy ending. I don't like books that don't. Call me idealistic, but it just ruins the characters when it doesn't.

It's moving a little fast. Not a bad thing, but sometimes slowing down and smelling the roses (or the lukewarm coffee) is a good thing.

The reason why this story moves fast, is that it goes where it wants to go. I am allowing the story to form itself, without becoming a full on novel. It grows, and I come along for the ride ;)

I guess in the end, a happy ending will depend on how you define happy, and who you are defining it for. =)

Chapter 8
 

Jessie and Sarah pull up to her house.

“Sarah, are you sure you want to do this?” Jessie says as he shuts off the ignition. “Yeah, Jessie. I’ve been sure about this for a long time,” she replies. “Alright. Then we go shopping.” She laughs. “What? Go shopping, what for?” He turns to her and says, “We need supplies. You don’t want to get caught, do you?” She blinked. She’d never thought about that. “You know, this is murder. The kind of stuff that gets you into prison for life. Either do it right, or not at all.” Jessie felt strange, he almost put a hand to his mouth. Where had that come from? It wasn’t something he would usually say, he felt like someone else. A stranger was in his skin.

Jessie could sense that he was no longer himself, it scared him, but he was getting used to it. A plan was formulating in his mind, without him even thinking. Images of the crime to be committed flashed, the powerful images exploding and echoing through his brain. He knew how they would do it. “Lets go, Sarah.” He started the car and drove down the street. “Where is the nearest gas station?” She looked at the gas meter. “You’re almost full, Jessie. We don’t need gas.” He looked at her. “Answer the question.” She raised one eyebrow. “There is one across town, we can go there, but I still don’t know why.”

Jessie pulled into the gravel drive to the gasoline station and parked the car. “Take the gas can out of the trunk, and fill it with gas.” She did as he said, and began walking to the pump. Jessie walked inside the store. “Hello, son! Hot weather, eh?” An elderly clerk. “Yes, sir, it sure is hot.” Jessie grabbed a nylon rope, box cutter, a hammer, box of nails, a roll of duct tape, and some copper wire off of a back shelf and walked to the counter. He reached into a freezer box and grabbed two cherry popsicles.

“Could I have two packs of Camel Wides?” The old man looked up at him over his glasses. “How old are ya now, son?” Jessie laughed. “I’m nineteen, sir. Want to see my ID?” The old man chuckled. “Naw, don’t need that son, you’re a good boy, I can tell. I’m a good judge of character! Yep, you’re a nice boy,” said as he nodded in agreement, apparently with himself. He placed both packs of cigarettes on the counter and began ringing up the merchendise.

“Be fixin’ up the house, eh?” he said with a smile. “Yes sir, need to fix a few things. You know how it is.” The old man stopped for a minute and smiled. “That I do, son, that I do! Kids your age’re usually so damned lazy! All they do is sit around.” Jessie smiled. “My father raised me right, sir. He was a military man.” The old man threw up his hands. “Well I’ll be, praise the Lord! You’re a true blooded American! I’ll tell ya son, some of these young’n’s today seem like they’re from some’ere else, I tell ya! Don’t know the meanin of work!” Jessie handed the man enough money to cover the items and the gasoline. “I’m also getting a couple gallons of gasoline, sir.”

Jessie walked out into the bright sun, the bag in one hand, popsicles in the other. Sarah was already back in the car. “Here you go, Sarah. Where is the gas?” She took the popsicle. “It’s in the trunk. Are we ready to go?” He got into the car and put on his seatbelt. “Yeah, we are.” He started the car. “So we’re actually going to do this?” He looked at her, then back to the road. “I’m going to ask you one more time, are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to back out in the middle of this.” She became silent for a moment. “Yes, Jessie. I’m sure.” Jessie reached into the bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Pack these, and light me one,” he said and tossed them to her.

<!------ I'll try to write more in a little bit, working on some homework. ------!>

He parked the car across the street from her house. “Is your father home?” She looked across the street. “Yeah, his car is there. He’s probably inside getting shitfaced, like always.” He looked at her. “Hey, let’s go see a movie.” She gave him a puzzled look. “What?” He smiled. “Yeah, let’s go watch a movie. By the time it’s over, it’ll be dark.” She laughed. “Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Sure, let’s go, there’s a theater a few blocks away.” They drove to the theater, and went inside. It was small, run down, and had a peculiar smell. They were the only ones in the theater, and watched a generic action movie, though the movie wasn’t what was important.

Sarah gave him a kiss as they watched the movie, and he smiled. They began kissing, as the characters in the movie aimlessly fired their guns, killing nameless henchmen. She began rubbing his crotch, and he felt himself becoming hard. He enjoyed it, but suddenly a panic filled him. He felt like he was losing control of the situation. He jerked for a second. “What’s wrong, Jessie?” He looked at her, trying to shake the feeling of panic off. “Nothing, it’s great.” Jessie began feeling her breasts. They felt soft and supple, and he had the sudden urge to take off her shirt. He pulled his hands away. “It’s okay, Jessie.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.

They left the theater an hour later when the movie was over. Holding hands, they headed to the car. Jessie lit a cigarette as he got inside. When Sarah closed her door, he handed her the cigarette and lit another one. “That was amazing, Sarah.” She smiled. “I try.” He knew she was thinking of what they did, but that wasn’t what was on his mind. He was thinking of that amazingly electric feeling he had felt, that connection between violence and He craved it. He wanted to hear the screams, he wanted blood. He didn’t know what was happening to him, and he didn’t care anymore. He welcomed it.

He started the car and headed back to her father’s house. They parked across the street again, and watched the house. All of the lights were off, and he could see the soft glow in the living room from the television. Good, this would be easier than expected. Jessie took the bag from the store earlier that day, and the can of gasoline. Before he shut the trunk, he grabbed the tire iron. She was already out of the car and at his side as he shut the trunk. They walked across the street and down the side of the house opposite the living room, heading to the back door.

He looked at her and whispered, “It’s time for school, Sarah. Time for Murder 101.”


<!------ Note: Part of this scene was cut out due to sexual content, it can be read in it's entirety HERE ------!>

Chapter 9
 

Jessie and Sarah stepped onto the back porch.

“Sarah, give me the key,” he whispered. She handed him the key and he slowly unlocked the door. Jessie handed her everything except the tire iron and the hammer. He stepped into the dark kitchen. He could hear the television, he was watching porn. Jessie was thinking to himself that he needed to watch his aim this time. He shook his arm to stretch the muscles and gripped the tire iron tight. He raised his hand to tell Sarah to wait in the doorway. He silently walked into the living room. Standing only a few feet behind the man, he could smell the alcohol and sweat. What a disgusting man, Jessie thought.

The television was covering any sounds he may have been making, and Jessie prepared to start the night’s festivities. He had the hammer in his other hand, and he took two steps closer to the man. Suddenly, Jessie swung his arm backward and tossed the hammer at the wall. Startled, Sarah’s father turned around to see what the noise was. Jessie smashed the tire iron into the side of his face. There was an audible crack as the man’s jaw shattered, and he fell out of the chair to the floor. He was unconscious.

“Perfect.” He looked back at Sarah, who was still standing in the doorway holding the other supplies. “Grab that hammer, Sarah.” She obeyed his directive. Jessie walked into the kitchen and through the door to the garage. He turned on the light and looked around. A lot of junk on shelves and piled into corners, but the center of the garage was clear. “Sarah, this is it.” He walked back to the living room and found a wooden armchair. He dragged the chair into the garage and set it in the center of the room. He went back and grabbed her father by the legs. “Sarah, take all the supplies into the garage.”

“Come on you lousy bastard.” As he dragged the man to the garage, Jessie thought about what he was doing. There was a voice of reason in him saying that what he was doing was crazy, but he ignored it. His crave for violence was too great to ignore. He wanted to maim, he wanted to kill, to feel the blood on his hands. Although killing Brad was an accident, it awakened some sort of primitive need in him. It turned him into this, whatever he was. Jessie lifted the man by his armpits and propped him on the chair. “Sarah, give me the rope and the razor.” She reached into the bag and brought out the nylon rope and box cutter, which she handed to him. “What are you going to do now, Jessie?” He unwound the rope and grinned. “Tie the ugly bastard up, that’s what.”

Jessie tied his wrists and his elbows to the armrests; his ankles to the chair legs and then loops rope through his armpits and over his shoulders to tie behind him. Fully immobilized, the man just slumps in the chair, still unconscious. Jessie tapes his mouth shut with the duct tape. “I’ll be right back, Sarah. Wake him up.” Jessie walked out of the garage through the back door. Sarah walked into the kitchen with a bucket and filled it with water. She came back into the garage and splashed the water on his face. Her father stirred and slowly opened his eyes.

He tried to speak and could not. He realized that he could not move and panic filled his eyes. “Well, well, Dad. How does it feel to be the helpless one? I guess not that great, huh?” She punches him in the face. His cheek was already bleeding from where the tire iron tore the skin, but now his nose is bleeding as well. Jessie walked back into the garage holding a car battery and jumper cables.

“This is where the serious fun begins,” Jessie said with a smile.

Chapter 10
 

Jessie was standing in front of Sarah’s father.

“Hi!” he said in a happy tone. “A little birdie told me that someone likes to beat up girls!” The man shook his head in disagreement. “Oh come on, don’t be shy, it’s too late now anyway! Let’s be friends, you and me!” Sarah looked at Jessie. He seemed different, he was so serious before, now he seemed to be joking. He put down the car battery and cables. Jessie laughed and said “Well, look what we’ve got here!” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out the box cutter, extends the blade and slices the man’s cheek. “Hey, Sarah, what’s this piece of shit’s name, anyway?” She looked at her father and said “His name is Mel.” Jessie put away the box cutter’s blade and dropped it to the floor.

“Well, Mel! Nice to meet you! I’m Jessie, and we’re going to have some fun together tonight! Ready for some games? It’ll be such a ball!” Jessie walked in a circle around Mel, but seemed almost to be dancing. Jessie picked up the hammer and opened the box of nails. “You know, I took carpentry in school, and I’m just dying to put what I learned to use! I’m sure my talents will knock you dead!” He laughed. Mel’s eyes widened, he seemed in shock at what was going on. Jessie took a nail and crouched down next to Mel. “Well, see Mel, we have to keep our materials steady, so let’s put a hold on ‘em, shall we?” He placed the nail on top of Mel’s wrist and began nailing it down. The nail pierced his flesh and Mel began screaming.

“What’s that, Mel? I can’t understand you. Why’d you put tape all over your mouth anyway? Silly!” Jessie nailed harder. The nail entered the wood of the armrest and once it was in about an inch, Jessie stopped, leaving a half inch of nail sticking out. “Does that sting, Mel? I’m so sowwie!” Jessie said in a cheery tone. Mel looked at Sarah and begged with his eyes. “How does that feel, Dad? Does it feel as good as when you were kicking me senseless? Remember how I begged you to stop and you didn’t?” Sarah said. Jessie began nailing down the other wrist. Mel’s screams turned into screeches and he thrust his head back and forth.

Jessie picked up the box cutter and handed it to Sarah. “Here Sarah, you can play too! Go nuts!” She extended the blade and started slicing Mel’s right arm. The dark blood was running down his arm and pooling on the floor, thick droplets running down the armrest. “Now, now, Sarah, we don’t want him bleeding too much!” Jessie took the razor from her and held it under the flame of his lighter for a few moments. When the blade was hot, he pressed it against some of the cuts on Mel’s arm. The smell of burned hair filled the air. “There we go, Mel, isn’t that better now?”

Jessie took the copper wire and wrapped it around one of the nails sticking out of Mel’s arm, and then strung it across to the other nail. He wrapped the wire around Mel’s right wrist a couple of times and strung it across again to the left and wrapped it around that wrist as well. He took the cable and wound it once around the left nail, thus completing a circuit. He let the cable fall to the floor and dragged it back a few feet. “I’m having so much fun, Mel!” He looked around and saw a baseball bat leaning against a wall. Jessie walked over and grabbed it. “Hey, Sarah, want to play a quick game?”

She smiled and reached her hand out for the bat. Jessie handed it to her and she smashed it into her father’s abdomen. He was coughing but the tape held his breath in, fluid blowing out of his nostrils.

“Ready for some more games, Sarah?” Jessie asked. She looked at him, grinning and nodding.

Jessie's Story - Chapter 11
 

Sarah slapped Mel’s face.

“You’d better not pass out, Dad. That would just make me angry.” Sarah smashed the baseball bat down on his right knee. Mel’s muffled groans were becoming quieter. His head was sagging a bit. Jessie went into the living room. Sarah grabbed Mel’s hair and yanked his head up. “Wake up, you fucker.” She punched him in the jaw, forcing pain to shoot through Mel’s shattered face. He screamed into the tape. Jessie came back with the bottle of bourbon that Mel had been drinking earlier. He splashed it on Mel’s face. Mel yelled out in pain as the alcohol seeped into his nostrils and eyes. “What’s wrong, Mel? Isn’t that stuff your favorite? I assumed you might want some.”

Jessie took the box cutter and made tiny slices all over both of Mel’s arms and poured more alcohol on them. Mel was crying now, sobbing into the tape. “Mel, as a friend, I think I should tell you that you reek of alcohol. I think you might have a problem now,” Jessie said, crouching next to Mel. “Maybe you should break the habit!” He smashed the bottle across Mel’s skull, and he went limp. Sarah looked at Jessie “Did you kill him?” Jessie laughed. “No, he’s just knocked out. Let’s go in the kitchen and grab a bite to eat.” She laughed and smiled.

As they went into the kitchen, Jessie thought about what he was becoming. He killed once as an accident. This was something different, something totally new, and what was worse was that he liked it. That old self, the person he used to be, was in his head telling him to stop, but he ignored it. This was too much fun. This was excitement in its rawest form. He was becoming addicted to it, and he welcomed the turbulent embrace of violence.

Sarah made them each a sandwich, and they joked and laughed as they ate. He could tell that Sarah was still uneasy at the thought of committing murder, but he was sure that she would not back out. They were too far in now. “Sarah, does your dad have any guns?” She put down her sandwich and went into the back room, returning shortly with a pistol. “It’s a Glock 17. He used to take me down with him to the shooting range when I was little, but he doesn’t go anymore. He had this thing he would do, he’d get it out, clean it, and sit in his chair and put it to his head. He’d never load it though. Ugh, I wish he would have just shot himself.”

Jessie cocked his head to one side. “But aren’t you having so much fun?” She looked at him and took a bite out of her sandwich. “No, I’m sitting here eating a sandwich. What’s fun about sandwiches?” He laughed. “Point taken. Let’s get back in there then, and wake up sleeping beauty.” She finished off her sandwich and stood up. “You have no idea how glad I am that I met you, Jessie.” He stood up. “Well, I know how to show a girl a good time,” he said with a grin and a wink.

Jessie opens a couple of the drawers until he finds what he was looking for; a steak knife. Sarah fills a pot with cold water, and Jessie throws in a dozen ice cubes. He grabs a container of salt, and they walk back into the garage. Jessie walks over to Mel and stabs the steak knife into his left thigh. “Wake up, filth.” He takes the water and splashes it across Mel’s stirring face. He gasps and moans into the tape. Jessie grabs the man by his hair and forces him to look up. “Look at me, Mel. Look at me.” Mel opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times, finally squinting up at Jessie.

“Are you ready to end the game, Mel?” Jessie whispered.

Jessie's Story - Chapter 12
 

Jessie closed his eyes and smiled.

He reached down and yanked the knife out of Mel’s thigh. Mel cried out in pain and jerked in the chair. “Oh come on Mel! That didn’t hurt! I could have twisted it, you know.” Mel hung his head down, breathing hard, mucus blowing out of his nose. Jessie began cutting off the top of the salt container with the knife. Sarah looked over at him. “What are you doing, Jessie?” He smiled and replied “This little piggy needs some more flavor,” he looked down at Mel, “I’m just kidding, Mel. I’m not going to eat you. No amount of salt could hide how bad you would taste.”

Jessie put the salt down and took the pot back into the kitchen. Sarah kneeled down next to Mel and looked up at him with a smile. “Hi dad!” She took her index finger and slowly dug it into the wound in his thigh. He screeched through the tape and jerked violently. “Now I can finger you back, dad. Isn’t it nice to spend quality time with me?” She stood up and slapped him again. “I hate you with all of my heart. You’re going to die here, and I’m enjoying every bit of it. I just wanted you to know that.” She walked away a few feet, sat on a stool and lit a cigarette.

Jessie walked back into the room with the pot, now full of water again. He set it down on a small work table and poured the salt into it. He grabbed a hanging wrench and began stirring the water. “You know Mel, I have this little problem. Sometimes when I’m cooking, people say I use too much salt. I know it’s not good for you, but what can I say? Here, why don’t you tell me what you think?” He walked over to Mel and poured the contents of the pot on him. Mel jerked in the chair and yelled, his eyes clenched shut. Jessie threw down the pot. “So, too much? I think it’s just right!”

Jessie walked over to Sarah. He took her cigarette and had a few drags off of it. He blew out the smoke and gave her a kiss. “Sarah, should we kill him yet?” She kissed him again. “No, I want to have some fun with him first.” He took her hand and helped her stand. “Alright, go ahead and do what you want.” Jessie sat where she had been sitting, and smoked the cigarette. Sarah walked over to Mel. “It’s my turn now, dad.”

She picked up the baseball bat she had been using earlier and swung it as hard as she could into one of his knees. There was an audible crack as his knee shattered. His leg looked cartoonish with a large dent where his knee should have been. Mel’s eyes were shut so tight his face was wrinkled with crow’s feet. Jessie lit a new cigarette. “Don’t stop now, Sarah! I’m enjoying the show!” She smashed the bat into Mel’s left shoulder and the chair half lifted off of the floor. Jessie laughed, blowing out a puff of smoke.

Sarah took the cigarette from Jessie’s fingers and took a drag. Handing the cigarette to Jessie, she threw the baseball bat at Mel, striking him in the chest. She strolled over to the corner of the garage and picked up a wooden driver. Standing in front of Mel again, she bent over to aim her shot. Seeing her bend over, Jessie reached out and slapped her ass. “Sorry, couldn’t resist with that beautiful ass in my face.” She laughed and looked at Mel again, aiming.

She swung hard, hitting his other knee with the golf club. A loud thump and a sick splat were almost smothered by Mel’s cries. “You should go for pro, Sarah!” Jessie was enjoying every minute of this. Sarah wrapped her arms around Jessie and gave him another kiss. Jessie took the driver out of her hand and swung it at Mel’s chest. The crack of the wood against his ribs was pretty loud. “Wow, I bet that stung. How many ribs did I break, Mel? One? Two?” Jessie dropped the club and stood in front of Mel. He grabbed the man’s hair and pulled his face up. “Mel, do you approve of me seeing your daughter? Cause I think she’s got the hots for me.”

Emphasizing the point, Sarah walked over and wrapped her hand around Jessie’s crotch. “I really like him daddy, can he take me to the movies?” Jessie laughed and lifted one leg, resting his foot on Mel’s shattered left knee. Leaning in close to look Mel in the face, he said “Well pops, I think it’s about time to end this, don’t you think? I mean, we could keep going but I think you’re probably dying to have it over with.” Jessie reached into his back pocket and produced the Glock.

Pointing it at Mel’s face, he smiled as Mel tried jerking his head from side to side. “Oh don’t worry, Mel! I’m not going to shoot you. That would take all the fun out of it! I think I might take Sarah with me on my journey! I don’t really know where I’m going, but I don’t think she cares much, do you, Sarah?” She looked over at him and smiled. “Nope, not a bit. See daddy? Not only is he nice, and not only do I like him, but he’s generous too! He’s perfect for me!” Jessie laughed and handed the gun to Sarah.

“Mel, how does it feel to lose? I’ve taken your daughter, gun, manhood, will, and very soon your life. How does it feel to stare at me with all that hate in your eyes, and not be able to do anything? You can’t even say ‘Fuck you’ to me, because you’ve been fucking silenced. How does it feel to be on the receiving end of the beating stick?” Mel did nothing but look down. He was broken.

Jessie grabbed Mel’s hair and jerked him up and in one quick motion, punched him square in the face, the impact sending salt water spraying from Mel’s hair. Jessie looked over at Sarah. “Sarah, do you want to come with me on my travels?” Jessie thought to himself, if she said no, he would probably kill her. He liked the girl, but wouldn’t risk her talking. For a moment, time seemed to slow down. Looking at her from top to bottom, he saw beauty. A young girl, blood splashed across her face and clothes in messy droplets, a cigarette in one hand and a gun in the other. She was like a goddess with the murky garage light shining off of her sweat moistened skin. He blinked and time was normal again, the moment gone.

“Yeah, I’d love to come with you, Jessie. I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun, and we can go to the movies too!” She smiled. Jessie thought to himself that he might be falling in love, the thought making him laugh. “I’m sure we will, Sarah,” he said with a smile. He grabbed the can of gasoline that Sarah had brought into the garage. “Mel, I think this might sting a bit.” He poured the gasoline all over the bleeding and broken man and splashed it around the room as well.

“Sarah, any last goodbyes?” She took the gas can from Jessie and said “Yeah, there is actually.” She looked at Mel and slapped him across the face with the gas can, and threw it on the floor. “Dad, what I’ve been wanting to tell you all these years, I never had a chance to before, but I’ll say it now.” She leaned picked up the steak knife and kneeled in front of her father. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and whispered in his ear “Fuck you dad,” and with a final look into his eyes she shoved the knife into his stomach.

Jessie took the jumper cables connected to the copper wire and hooked them to the car battery. The current made Mel’s body spasm and as the electricity built up, the copper wire began melting, and Mel’s clothes caught fire. As the man, and parts of the room burst into flames, Jessie and Sarah walked out of the garage.

“Goodbye Mel,” Jessie said with a wave as he shut the door.