Three days had passed, and Genevieve
had yet to show. We agreed to meet where we had our first date, the river walk
near the movie theater downtown. We had been seeing each other for three weeks
and I knew she was the one. I knew it in my bones, in my blood, in my heart.
Every thought I had was of her, and us, and our future together. She thought I
was going too fast, because three days ago I told her I was in love with her.
But I knew she felt the same way.
I knew because she kept wearing that
perfume that I loved, that she knew I loved without me having to tell her. And she kept wearing pencil skirts, which she
knows I love on her. And she kept delivering my mail, too. She works in the
mail room at the company I work at, and I got up the nerve to ask her out last
week. I mean, to go out out. Before,
we only talked at work, but we had been dating for three weeks. I know it has
been three weeks because that’s when she started working at the company. It was
love at first sight.
“James, I don’t want to see you
anymore. We’ve only known each other for, like, a week,” Genevieve said,
keeping some distance between us as she spoke.
“No! We have been seeing each other
for three weeks, remember?” I tried approaching her, but she just kept backing
away, looking at the crowd that was around us, as if for help. I didn’t
understand what she was doing. Was there someone else? Did I do something
wrong? Was her family keeping her away from me? Before I could ask she said
good-bye, ran to her car, and drove off. I really didn’t get it. But I knew I
could get her to come back to me.
Four months have gone by and I haven’t
gotten her to come back. I did everything I could. I got her evicted from her
apartment, so she would stay with me, but then she went to stay with her
friends. So then I went and killed her friends, when she wasn’t there, of
course. But even that didn’t work! After that, she went to stay with her
family! I knew it had to be her family that was coming between us. I should
have gotten rid of them first. So after she quit work, because of the stress
she was under from the police, I went to tell her that I was still there for
her. She wasn’t happy, in fact, she seemed really freaked out. And then her dad
came round the corner and asked who was at the door.
She said, ‘No one’! I wasn’t ‘No one’!
I was her boyfriend! I was her lover! I was her life! Just like she was mine!
So I went, later that night, to burn the house down. Unfortunately, I got
caught. She shot me! Genevieve fucking shot me! Do you know how much that
fucking hurt? She shot me right in the fucking heart! But that’s okay. I know
she was just confused. She must have meant to make it a murder suicide. She . .
. Must . . . Have . . .
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