I KILL TO WRITE

4

Sultryforest, in the last few days I have uncovered more evidence. I'm too scared to run and too deep to stop digging.

I know when David Masterson started his new career born of a midlife crisis. There were a hundred writing tools at his disposal but they held no interest. The fever of youth is a black scar where he knows passion once burned. Then he decided to take that youth and suck the life from it like a vampire. David's flaw is fear. Fear of making a decision, fear of commitment, and fear of having to work too hard. Wallowing in self pity is one of his favorite past times, even now, with his mansion overlooking the ocean, and unlimited freedom, he is far from happy, and all the vain striving has amounted to nothing.

Sultryforest, here is an excerpt from his diary, just before his first kill. It's written in his distinct cursive which I have grown used to in editing his novel, "Silver Screen"

"I emerged from the dense underbrush of the Redwood curtain not so long ago. The black ribbon of asphalt was the first man made surface I had touched in months. It was like a rebirth that rainy day, with the fog so thick you could feel the tension of a wreck about to happen as cars sped by oblivious to my presence. The stench of six months without a shower ran into the tattered rags which barely passed for socks. Fortunately the holes in my shoes allowed the water to run free so I wouldn't have to endure the sucking sound as I made my way back home. Ahh, home. I wasn't sure if the house would be standing or my wife still living there. I imagined a band of marauding foster children returned to the roost, foot thick garbage and a sink piled high with unwashed dishes. They would probably have a generator for TV and music as they pounded their lives away in a drunken orgy of freedom. But it was what I asked for.

"If I only had a couple days of solitude, maybe I could finish my latest book..." I had whined for the millionth time to my wife. No words emanated from the years of frustration which had built up around my wife's empathetic heart. I knew it was the straw that broke the camel's back, I could see it in the fierce determination of those eyes I had fallen in love with all those years ago. She wouldn't go through that again. The next morning I noticed the second hand ticking away precious seconds of my life as I shuffled through the empty house. The van was gone, steam still rising from a half empty pot of coffee. It was the only sound I could hear, like the labored pulse of a soldier just before he dies. Things became clear and I determined to hold up my end of the bargain. It wasn't really what I wanted, but the victim inside me had complained one too many times and now I had forged the destiny I so badly wanted.

"I had decided to throw my own little tantrum, no food, no backpack, just my rifle and the cloths on my back. I walked straight into the hills behind my house, determined to show her who was right. Big mistake, she is always right. I don't say this begrudgingly, or with cliché' witticism, it's the truth. Women know better.

"Victim...With that one word she might say, "Do you feel better now?" and I might reply, "You..." I always placed the blame elsewhere, poor me, it was time to grow up.

"Now I was back. Dry Hunter Thomas rancor oozed from my fuming mind in a vain attempt to release the pressure in my soul. It was a dull, bitter taste I knew would last, like that rotten tooth which came back to haunt me every six months. But I would have to live with it. From here one would think everything got better, but when my blistered, jungle rotten feet turned the last corner , I wasn't greeted by the squeal of my now ten year old daughter or the affectionate slather of my scratchy old hound. There it stood in solitary testimony to the finality of my poor choices. Amid the tall grass and weeds was a sentinel to my finally becoming a man.

FOR SALE

"I was 33 years old and it was the winter of 1977 and all hell was about to break loose... But at least I had made one decision on my own, and now I knew what I wanted to do."