Rebecca
She sat across from me at the dinner table, the shadow from the candle's flame dancing across her face. Looking back I can't recall a word that she had said, but what I do remember is that she deserved it.
Rebecca worked with me in the IT department for a local supply company. For five months now I had been training her, and for five months I had been trying to ask her out. At first, I didn't think I stood a chance. In my mind, a woman so beautiful couldn't be in the same lonely market as a loser like me, but the more we started talking I found out she was single. Everyday we talked and everyday I waited for her to tell me how she met someone so I could have an excuse to not ask her out myself. This never happened, and one day I gathered up the strength.
All night long I practiced how I was going to ask her out. I knew exactly how cool I was going to look walking up to her, I knew how suave I was going to sound when I asked her to dinner, and I knew how she would laugh in my face and tell me I didn't stand a chance. I knew all of these things, and really knew nothing at all, but I forced myself to give it a shot, anyway.
She was sitting at her desk with a half eaten lunch salad in front her sipping a bottle of water. She had on her reading glasses, and in them I could see the glare of her computer screen. She was shopping online for shoes. Her blouse had a button opened up and I could see a little bit of cleavage. Besides the internet, that was about as much as I had seen of a woman since college. Her bright green eyes moved away from the computer and looked into mine. Startled, because I was staring down her shirt, she spoke to me. She may have said "What's up" or "Hey, you" as she often did but I just blurted out the words "Wouldyouliketogooutwithmesaturdaynightfordinneronli keyouknowadate?" It wasn't as suave as I had imagined, but it worked. She giggled and the date was on.
It was shortly after this point I realized I had made a brutal mistake. I was so infatuated with her super model looks that I failed to recognize what a horrible person she was. I started to notice the way she looked at every other guy in the office. The way she would make eye contact with good looking Jack from the sales department or how she would purposefully laugh at Mr. Hardbaugh's not funny jokes was starting to make me crazy. I even caught her eye-lusting after the secretarywho was a woman! It was becoming quite apparent what a whore she was, and I knew I would need to put a stop to it.
Saturday night she sat across from me at the dinner table, the candle's light dancing on her beautiful face. I was so sick to my stomach I could barely speak to the bitch. I couldn't understand a word she said all night, and when she excused herself to the bathroom I knew she went there to vomit out everything she just ate. She had to keep her little figure for the office, you know? After we both had a few glasses of wine, she asked if she could come over to my place. Of course she would. A whore would like that.
We got back to my house and went inside. She was laughing about something I said but I know she didn't even understand the joke. Typical of a slut. She claimed she was ready for dessert. I knew what that meant in whore talk. I wondered how many guys at the office she had had dessert with, and I couldn't take it anymore. Did this woman have no shame! No wonder she was with someone like me because she would be with anyone who gave her the time of day! I looked into the freezer and grabbed the double chocolate ice cream that was still in a plastic grocery bag. She turned and looked at me and her eyes lit up and the thought of "dessert." I screamed at the top of my lungs. "WHORE! YOU GODLESS WHORE!" She looked at me like she didn't know what I was talking about, but really she knew I knew all of her secrets. I could see it in her eyes. I took the frozen ice cream that was still in the bag and swung it in a fit of rage. It slammed across her little head and she fell to the floor.
Blood poured onto my recently cleaned hardwood floor. I felt instantly angry because I had hoped this girl would have been different. Why did they all have to be the same? Why did this always have to end the same? She started to stir, and I swung the ice cream again killing her.
As I pried the wooden floor board away, I thought of what could have been. Not just with her, but with the others as well. I moved the other board, and dropped her on top of Nicole, and Brandy, and Amber, and Denise...