The School's Lost Cause

The Three Little Dickies

Hours later, and still no sign. They must be small. I started laughing to myself as I collapsed to the floor, deflated of any hope of escaping this mad man's clutches. All the bodies he dismembered and delivered to me as a gift.

Mr Dexter was in danger. Looks like I'll have to make a sob story up. I needed a run to escape the thought of his present in my house. It was never a home. Whenever I received a gift, I asked my dad if I could move, to which he would just send me the keys and occasional money over internationally.

Putting on my trainers, I exit the house and began my run. Putting in my earphones, I began to blend into the background, becoming a normal person.

I came across a dead rabbit and it's babies and just sighed. I wish I was with my mother right now. I can't remember what colour her eyes were. Or what she looked like. Only a dismembered head was engraved on my mind. After my father discovered that he wanted to kill anyone close to me, he shut me off and gave me money to keep me happy. Happiness was abnormal in my life. As was love or anything positive.

I needed to end his desires and string of bodies. The FBI called my situation as a cold case and went onto other shit. Not that I blame them. He decimated an entire village with homemade bombs as it was my hometown. He said in the letters my home was wherever he was.

As my mind run to think of places where the objects were hidden, I came to a stop. I saw posters of the three teens missing and just gave the parents handing out the posters the look of grief. The bodies were bound to turn up soon. He never liked being subtle.

Why do teenage boys get horny? Oh yeah, because no woman would come to them willingly as they stink of testosterone and silverware.

Shaking my head in dismay as they begged for their child to be brought home, I went to the market. Three more tattoos were needed. It's a shame they died young. Listen up, boys, don't grope women's asses without their permission, some may have a psychopathic stalker who has murdered just under one hundred humans to keep them all to themselves.

Entering the tattoo parlour, I went up to the desk and chucked my money on the table, startling the owner.

"Long time no see, Gerald!" I spoke.

"Roxy, what a pleasant surprise! What tattoo is it this time?" He asked.

"These initials and dates and next to the last letters and numbers." I said as I passed him the piece of paper.

He gave me a look before nodding his head. I know that look. It's that look a mother gives their child when they know something is up. But he wouldn't say anything as he gets a grand a time which is five times more than he offered.

Sitting in the chair, I relaxed myself and let him do the work. He knew I didn't feel pain yet he still looked at me with worry.

An hour later I sat up and looked at my arm. It was red but nothing I could feel so I just shrugged and left the place.

Time to find the three little dickies! Note the sarcasm, or don't, I really don't care as nobody listens to me anyway.

Running back to the house, I began to unlock the door until I heard a rustle behind me. Oh shit on a brick. I slowly turned around to find the door to the outdoor bathroom open. Now it makes sense! The three little shits go down the toilet! Speeding towards the bathroom I almost looked until I felt a hardened glare on my body.

No matter how long he stalked me for, I could never feel comfortable with his stares. Ignoring his stalking, I slowly looked into the toilet. Stifling a vomit, I saw the three little dickies. I giggled to myself, Mr Psycho wasn't joking when he said they were small. What? You try being stalked for twelve years and being mentally stable.

Crackles of a radio started to form until it came to life. A distorted voice of a male spoke.

"My little bird, you made junior excited today. I'm getting impatient at not holding you in my arms. Unfortunately, you found the presents so now you won't see mine. Don't worry, you will eventually. Mr Dexter hasn't been getting too close to you, has he? For you are mine and only mine. Time is nearing of our love story. In time, you will see me as a lover not a monster. I like these games, they make me shiver in delight when you feel fear. Until then, farewell."

The crackling ended as I heard a car pull away. Too many times I told myself this was going to end happily and I would get my knight in shining armour. Or someone to notice my lifestyle. But life is a survival game of cat and mouse. Dare I say I have been caught, but what happens after the capture?