Nothing Left to Lose

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ONE

Harper knew Allison like the back of her hand, even in a pitch-black room full of drunk teens and flashing coloured lights with a weird green tint blinking in every six seconds. Harper recognized the little things. Like how Allison put her pinky out when brushing her wavy long blonde hair that could make anyone swoon, or how she only drinks iced coffees because hot drinks make her tongue feel weird. She knew everything about her. Mostly because they have known each other since they were about nine.

The floor is sticky. Allison hates that. She looked over at Allison seeing an unamused look on her face as she stepped over to Harper, her eyes winching at every sticky-step. The air getting less tense the closer she got.

"Hey, how's things going?" asked Allison, "seen any cute guys yet?"

"I wish" Harper takes a sip of the raspberry cruiser in her hand, re-adjusting it to look at the label.

The condensation from the drink made her hands damp so she wiped it on Allison's new black top with weird frilly bits.

"Ew!" Allison wiped her top back onto Harper's face, smudging the blue-ombre eye-makeup.

"Bitch!" Harper laughed, nudging her.

She missed times like this, when her and Allison would just have fun and hangout, when everything was okay. Before Allison started dating that jerk, Simon. Harper hated Simon. Like she actually wanted to kill that asshole. She wouldn't though, she's not like that.

Everyone was enjoying themselves, having fun and drinking. This moment almost felt like a movie. When everything was going right. But something wasn't quite perfect. Though it had nothing to do with her... she hoped.

Harper chose to ignore it anyway, turning her head back to Allison who was focused on the man standing next to her, ugh.

She was clearly uncomfortable, why couldn't he leave her alone. Allison stepped back and he stepped forward. Harper wished she could just dig her nails into his throat, not like anyone would care. They would all be too drunk to notice anyway. Harper screwed the bottle cap on and placed the bottle in her hand onto the table next to her.

The way he looked at her was disgusting, the only thing he wanted was to get in her pants. Fucking loser. Harper eyed him down as he rubbed Allisons arm, making her flinch. She just wanted him to leave her alone, why can't he get it? Why doesn't he get it? Go away. Go away. Go away. No one wants him here.

Shes not a killer but right now she'd fucking blow his head off, she's done her research on how get away with it because of a project of hers from seventh grade. She didn't know him so at least there wouldn't be a connection, anything to really make her a suspect. She would follow him home, getting his number plate and address. In the weeks before she would kill him, she would buy a new outfit, shoes, gloves, bleach, gasoline, large plastic sandwich bags, a lighter and everything else she needed. Making sure to pay in cash at different stores so there were no records. Waiting patiently until he's alone and then she'd come in, leaving her phone at her house, put ketamine in his drink and then he'd be out cold so he can't scream. Harper wasn't sure where she would get them, but she would. Someone at the party has to know a dealer. she would use a revolver so there was no shell casting left at the scene, two shots to the back of his head. She would pour out the drugged water into the sink and place the cup and gun into separate plastic bags. Harper would have to do this in the early hours of the day when everyone was asleep, around 4am. She would pour gasoline everywhere, then light it. Getting rid of any trace of possible DNA.

When getting home after killing him she would pour out the bleach and place all of her clothes, the gloves and everything she touched including the cup and gun into the bucket. Harper would leave them in bleach for a few days before burning it. Then she would be in the clear.