Leave me here

She was standing with a G&T in her hand, her eyes scouting through the women in the club, looking for someone susceptive to vulnerability. Then back to watching him, as she did the last two Fridays. He was standing by the bar with a whiskey in his hand.

She watched how he pretended to be attentive and caring towards the girl he spoke with. She shook her head thinking: “Does no one notice his modus operando’s? Never wondered why he did it? What kind of character he has?” That was not his intend for being here, to be kind and sweet.

She was very cautious, trying to think of something to get his attention so he would approach her. He was cautious himself, after most of the people here were questioned about the incidents happening lately. The police started to notice a connection between the murders and the club. She was considering if she should wait outside, to keep an eye on him. Then maybe next Friday she can try to approach him? She knew he noticed her. To be honest, what man would not? Blond curly hair, big blue eyes. Petite, with great assets, it was a great bonus for her kind of work.

The Saturday morning, she was up early, took a cool shower, and dressed into a cosy top and comfortable pants, with comfy shoes. The weather was lovely so she decided to take her dog for a walk in the park. It was lovely outside, the birds were twittering, people were having a morning picnic and some were out riding on their bikes, whilst the joggers in their tight “gym fancy pants” were having a marathon. She hated it, she could not understand how anyone can enjoy running around, puffing like an animal hunting for food.

She was thinking about last night, contemplating what the best plan of action would be. If she followed him and she needed to intervene, then her cover was blown. But then again, that is what they wanted: to catch him in the act. The problem was, that’s not what she wanted. She want to be the person, standing in front of him. To see his face turn pale, watch that smug smile disappear. It was time for him to get out of civilisation, he has done more than enough harm.

After her pooch marked every spot in the park, she went to buy some fresh bread rolls and some tomatoes and lettuce. She was hungry and did not feel like eating fatty restaurant food. She shivered, thinking about the food that is loaded with fat, people are obese freaks in this place!

Suddenly she felt grumpy and frustrated, she wanted to go home, her own home. Her cosy little cottage next to the blue ocean, where she can write her music, play her piano and when she felt like it, teach lessons as well. Just be alone and by herself.

She left this live behind, almost two years ago. One night, she was working a late night shift. Some drug lord broke into one of his dealers’ house, shot a little girl in her bed. They thought it was her elder brother who snitched on them. That is when she decided she had enough, no more.

When she was approached for assistance in this case, she immediately said yes, she was interested. She followed it on the news, and someone had to get this guy of the streets. He was a psychopath. He always was the last person to be seen with the women before they disappeared. So he became the main suspect, but they just couldn’t get the evidence they needed to arrest him. On a Friday he picked up girls in clubs, took them home, drugged them, and had his fun. The next day there was another body found, floating down the river. He did not care that the bodies were piling up. He enjoyed the attention around the case.

She decided to walk the long way home. It would do her good, give the dog some exercise and she can do some window shopping. She wondered if that was the right thing to do. With maniacs on the loose, and people killing you, holding you ransom, for a phone, money, even your jewellery.

She decided she will be able to handle herself. She had the training expertise and her gun with her. Still she felt a little bit jumpy, entering the dark tunnel. It was smelling of sweat and decomposing waist. “Gosh,” she thought. “I do not know how people can live like this”. Every week the police came here and ransacked the place. Chuck out the drug junkies and homeless people, tossed out all their belongings. Where must they go? All they do is come back again.

Most of the junkies were lying around, living in their own world of happiness, probably dreaming of being rich and successful. She wondered who they were, what they did, before ending up here. A few hookers tried to approach her, but the manner she walked made them see her gun and they left her alone.

She winked at one of the sellers that sold some of the happy stuff. Bought a few pills from him and finally saw the light of day again. After a few minutes the window shopping, started to bore her. Shoes, clothes, make-up, more shoes, more clothes.

She was starting to get a huge headache, so she walked into a small café, bought a bottle of water and downed two pills, on her empty stomach. She only had some coffee for the best deal of the day, so they took her headache away quickly. The drugs she bought to paralyse that “idiot” if he was too much for her to handle, if it comes to it, that they met.

When she came home, she had that lazy feeling you get, after a huge Sunday lunch. She just collapsed on her bed, thinking about the case.

“If he was guilty, why was he only selecting victims on Fridays? Did he life somewhere else before? How many times had he done this, how many girls did he kill? The report said he drowned them alive.” She wanted to see him rot in jail, yet she was also mesmerized by him. How did he do it? Looked into some one’s eyes and watch them die.

She fell asleep, dreaming about being home and her house floating down a river, water everywhere. Her dogs growling woke her up. She pat him on his back saying: “Quiet boy, did you hear the neighbour’s cat again?”

She decided to take a relaxing shower. The water was cool, the feel of clean water flowing over her body, the smell of soap and shampoo. It makes you feel sparkling and fresh again. When she came out of the shower, she felt like wearing something comfortable, as she was staying in for the night.

As she entered her room, she froze up. A chill went down her spine, immobilizing her. Her whole room was covered with pictures. On the walls, the floor, her bed, everywhere. In all of them, there were only one woman: Herself….

She looked over to her bed, her gun was gone. He was sitting in a chair in her room, drinking a whiskey. Smiling with that arrogant irritating smile. He looked at her, laughing, saying in his husky voice: “Did you honestly think that I am so unprofessional that I would not notice you? Hanging around watching me, following my every move?” She tried to say something, but no sound came out of her mouth.

He poured himself another whiskey, lying back in the chair, totally relaxed. Smiling up at her he said: “Now be a good little girl, go run yourself a nice full bath. I will pour you a whiskey and bring your pills.” He grinned pretending to be amused: “Sorry I guess the pills were supposed to be mine?” Then suddenly he became irritated saying: Go! Run that bath, I have work to do and you are wasting my time.”

As she was drifting away into a deep sleep, hopeless, her body cold, tears dribbling down her face, she looked into his eyes trying to say: “leave me here, not the river please….”