Matilda glances up from her book when she hears her door creak open. Discovering who it is, she tosses her book aside in a huff. The nerve of that woman barging in like that. Lisa is constantly butting into my affairs and treats me like I'm a brainless child. Guess a visit from my least favorite nurse is a perfect way to end this God-awful day. "Do you need something?"
"Liz said you went out for a while, so I wanted to make sure you made it home safe."
"I'm fine, thank you." Matilda reaches for her book, hoping she'll take the hint.
"Would you like me to get you a snack or warm milk to help you sleep?"
"No, I'm alright." Matilda opens her book and pretends to read.
"Well, Goodnight then."
Painting a fake smile on her face, Matilda says, "Good night."
Lisa is headed out the door when something catches her eye. "What happened to your clothes?" She scoops up Matilda's bloody garment out of the trash.
Why won't you just leave me be? Matilda throws her book aside a second time. "Marge and I tried to rescue a dog we found at the side of the road."
"Were you able to save him?"
"The vet said he should fully recover within a few weeks. Now, if you don't..."
"Let me take this to the laundry, see what they can do."
That's another reason I don't like Lisa in my room. She never wants to leave. "Don't bother; I don't want to wear it again anyway." Matilda wistfully glances at the garment and then at her nurse. "I wore it to my grandson's funeral, and I sure don't need it lying around reminding me that he's gone.." She brushes a tear from her cheek.
"I understand. Would you like for me to take it away?"
"Please do, and take them too." Granny points to a pair of blood-splattered shoes.
Grabbing a hazard bag from the cabinet, Liz throws the patient's wardrobe inside. "Let me know if you need anything."
"A little privacy would be nice."
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, dear."
Lisa closes the door behind her.
I can finally get back to my planning. Matilda flips to the end of her book.
.***
Granny is scrunched down behind a row of hedges, waiting for her night's second victim. Her first victim came out a few minutes after she arrived, but there hasn't been anyone since. I hope someone comes out soon. Matilda gets a cramp in her legs, hoping to relieve the aches. She shuffles around.
The music gets louder. Granny looks up to see a shadow staggering across the porch. You just think you're going home tonight. She catches a glimpse of her target in the bar's dim lights. It's one of those fake, prissy blonds. The kind men swoon all over, and real women hate. I can't recall how many times I've caught my Harold flirting with a bimbo like her. This one is for all the homewreckers out there, Matilda thinks, making her way out of the brush. "Hey miss, you forgot something," the murderer yells, quickening her pace.
The young blonde turns around. "What did I lose now?" She giggles, swaying from side to side.
"You forgot to call a cab." the killer whacks her in the stomach with her cane.
Wrapping her arm around her midsection, the lady doubles over in pain. The murderer clobbers her across the back.
The victim falls to the ground. "Why... Why did you do that?" the blond asks, pulling herself to her hands and knees.
Granny whacks the lady across her silicone butt. The victim plummets to the ground.
Mud drips off of her bleach blond curls when she lifts her head. "Cut that shit out," the victim yells, struggling to get back on all fours. She tries to crawl away.
The killer thumps her bum.
The young lady falls to the soil again.
I'm having fun. Granny laughs, mentally encouraging her to try again.
"Leave me the hell alone, you old bat." the drunk screams, getting to her feet.
Granny smacks the back of her long, toothpick, thin legs.
The victim falls butt first in a puddle of mud.
Raising her cane, Granny glares at the bleach blond and says, "Call me old again and see what you get."
Fire shoots from the victim's eyes when she says, "I've had just about enough of you and your game."
"You wouldn't be in this predicament if you hadn't decided to drive home drunk."
"What are you, the sobriety police or something?" she asks, shoving dirty blond hair from her face.
"I want to save families from going through what I have; losing their loved ones to drunks like you."
"I've never had an accident in my life."
"I'm going to make sure that you don't." Granny positions her cane just above the victim's clavicle and squeezes the small metal handle.
"What... what was that?" the drunk asks, reaching for her neck.
"Ice, dear, just plain old ice." Granny laughs.
The lady glances down to see blood spewing across the ground. A look of horror spreads across her face. "What the hell did you do?"
"You have approximately ten minutes to make amends for all you've done wrong. So I'd pray fast if I were you." Turning, Granny walks away.
"Please, don't leave me like this, please. I'm sorry, I'll never drink again."
The murderer continues across the lawn.
"Please, lady, please help me," the blond cries.
Shaking her head, granny says, "There's no help for people like you."
***
The cool night air whips through the car, giving the cruiser a frosty feel. Joe and Rachel are so lost in their thoughts that neither notice. Rachel is looking over a list of suspects while Joe thinks about his nightmare.
That was just a dream, a figment of my imagination, right? Of course, it was. He glances over at Rachel, searching through their list of usual suspects. Rachel is a beautiful, slender young woman with long brown hair and chocolate eyes. Her smile makes Joe's heart skip a beat.
Rachel is drop-dead gorgeous, but she can sometimes be an annoying pain in the butt. Joe recalls how she seems to irritate him daily. How can I be in love with someone who makes me angry?
Joe thinks back to all the fun they had at their church social and other events they tended when they were kids; Their moms were best of friends, so they hung out a lot. Since Joe was the oldest, the duo always put him in charge. Rachel was like my kid sister back in the day. Besides, I doubt she'd have romantic feelings for someone as old as me. Why does any of that matter when I don't have feelings for her? The brakes squeak to a stop when he pulls up to her apartment door.
Glancing up, Rachel sees that they've arrived. "See you tomorrow, Joe," she says, opening the car door.
"Yeah, tomorrow." Maybe I'll see you later in my dreams. What am I thinking? This is Rachel, for heaven's sake, my boss's daughter. I can't fall in love with her. I can't. Joe watches her walk down the sidewalk. Oh, why does she have to be so darn attractive?
***
The night creatures hum a lovely tune in the distance as the gentle wind sweeps across Granny's face, adding to her weary feel. I hope I have enough strength to carry this last one out. She yawns. I think I'll just shoot him and call it a day; no messing with him this time. Matilda barely makes it across the parking lot when the bar door opens again. Walking to the first row of cars, she ducks into the shadows and waits. Granny peeks around the vehicle to find the figure is just a few feet away. The killer anxiously shifts her weight. The footsteps continue to get closer. You're almost there. Three, two. Matilda plunges her cane in his path.
The man's toe catches on her walking stick. He plummets to the ground. "Why did you trip me, huh?" he asks, struggling to get back on his feet.
"I'm stopping you from taking a life." The murderer whacks him across the back. He falls to the soil. Granny hears footsteps clomp through the gravel as a chunk of ice lodges into her victim's neck. She looks over to see a young woman heading their way. I have to do something, quick.
"Run, Emily, run," the man screams, attempting to get to his feet.
The killer knocks him unconscious with her cane. Realizing the lady is getting closer, the murderer ducks behind a car and waits. I'll take care of both of them and call it a night.
The bar door opens; three more stumble through the door. What am I going to do now? Granny asks, quickly looking around.