Frustrations of a Working Mother

So I love my kids and because I love my kids I work. While this is good it makes me feel slightly bad because the things that they are not succeeding in makes me feel like I’m failing. Like my daughter. I know she can read, I have watched her do it, but because I’m not there a lot of the time I feel like I’m not succeeding in helping her further her skills. I feel that my lack of reading to her while she was younger has stunted her ability to read.

I feel like an all around bad mother.

I know I’m not, don’t get me wrong. I’m there for my kids when they need me. I’m the fluffy stern woman that keeps them safe from monsters and darkness. It doesn’t make it hurt less that my daughter is struggling to read.

Now with that said she’s going to summer school…. Yes a kindergartener in Summer School but I’m doing this to keep her from being a 7 year old Kindergartener. It’s scary to think that she’s not in second grade already but I have to stay strong for that.

Adding to that I miss being at home with my kids. I remember when I was able to be home all the time and it hurts not to have that connection with them anymore. 🙁 I live with it though, not happily.

On the brighter side to that my boyfriend, affectionately called Cricket, has been an extreme help and rock for me and my wishy washy-ness. He helps with keeping me on the line of being stern but leaving me to my fluff. I definitely need him and love him to death. He keeps me grounded and sane. It’s very nice having someone like him in my life. He also watches my kids for me when he can while I’m at work. This by itself helps me because it means I see my kids more. It’s wonderful.

I guess there is more but I’ve lost my train of thought. Hopefully I’ll get to update this more soon.

Morrgroove Gone

So I feel that my Morrgroove or Morrmojo or Mojo-Jojo is gone and never coming back. I feel uninspired dull and downright blechy most days. I’ll sit at my computer and things that make me inspired and happy to do online feel like chores. It’s not supposed to be this way. My hobbies should feel fun and exciting to come home to. I should want to get all of my other stuff out of the way so I can sit down and enjoy the happy things and life. But I don’t and it depresses me.

So the normal responses that I’m sure I’ll here is “Get a new hobby” or “If it depresses you then find out why” well I don’t know why. I love being at my computer. I love writing. I love coding websites. I love making images. I LOVE Rping and yet all of these things don’t inspire me at all.  This could be the 12 hour days at work but really if that’s what is killing it for me then why did I enjoy them in the first place? Because it killed time? I used to itch to get home and turn on my laptop and see all the amazing things I missed that day and regret missing it. Now it’s just one more thing I need to do.

I need my Morrmuse back. It’s gone and I can’t find it. If you see her please send her straight back with my brain. It would be muchly appreciated.

Liz Fic part 6

Elizabeth’s heart was racing her body was covered in sweat as she shot straight up her hand immediately shooting up to feel her stinging neck. She brought her fingers away from her neck to look at the blood on her hands. She breathed heavily trying to gain her bearings her eyes falling to the sheets that covered her.

Blood. Her entire bed was covered in blood, not just her neck where she felt a stinging sensation. She took a deep calming breath as she ran her bloodied hand over one side of her face and into her hair.

Where did all of the blood come from?

Was it all hers?

Was she dead?

If she were dead then she’d be in some sort of surreal heaven. A pleasant and fabulous heaven where blood was given without a price.

No, she wasn’t dead but she didn’t feel well. Her entire body felt weak, her mind swirling as she fell back to the bloodied sheets trying to think of where all the blood came from. Her body felt so weak, so tired. It wasn’t like her to feel so tired or so dazed.

With an extreme amount of effort she threw a leg over so she was able to roll to her stomach and look around the floor for any clues as to where the blood had come from. Anything. She needed to know why she felt so woozy, why she was still alive if that was all her blood.

Her eyes scanned the floor. A shoe, her bag, her…

Elizabeth pressed her head harder into her mattress to tilt her head slightly. That wasn’t her knife. She had never seen that knife before in her life and yet there it was, covered in blood on top of her bag.

Suddenly she shot up again only to fall to the floor her face planting next to an unfamiliar shoe attached to a leg. She grabbed at it before she realized how terrifyingly bad this was. This was not happening! What was she supposed to be doing?

Calling the cops?

Cleaning up?

What happened when she got home?

Elizabeth closed her eyes and thought back to her drive home. It had involved being driven by a police officer, wait. No. She had taken a cab home but she had been at the police statioin earlier.

She paid the cab driver when she arrived.

Walked up the steps to her apartment glancing over at her deceased neighbors door.

Unlocked her door, walked in the door. Did she unlock her door? Did it matter? She got into her apartment and then…

Then?

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped open as she stared at the foot. The man attacked her and held her with the knife to her neck. That’s why her neck stung. He didn’t know how to handle a weapon and he pressed too hard on her neck because she didn’t react the way he wanted. With fear.

There was a fight and she won, obviously by the corpse on her floor.

Despite how much she wanted to cleanse herself of this death, to play around in his puddle of blood, she couldn’t. She had to call the cops for this one. There was no getting out of that but she had to know her story before she did that.

Elizabeth repeated the events in her mind before she finally fumbled for her home phone dialing 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a male’s voice picked up on the other end.

“Yes, my name is Elizabeth Thory and,” she attempted to choke up like she was on the verge of tears, “I was attacked in my home and I overcame my attacker but I think he’s dead. There’s blood everywhere.”

“Alright ma’am, take a deep breath. Do you feel that your life is threatened right now?” god she hated when people told her to take a deep breath, it was like they thought she had forgotten how to breath. “I don’t think so! I think he’s dead!” she sobbed into the receiver.

“Is anyone in need of medical assistance?”

“Yes,” she breathed quietly.

“Stay on the line with me miss until we get someone to your location. Can you give me your address?”

“Umm. Uh. I live in apartment 26 in the palm apartments, um. It’s on Pine road,” she said being as purposefully ambiguous as possible.

Alright ma’am someone will be there shortly. Please stay on the line with me until medical services get there.

Elizabeth hung up. She didn’t need to hear him repeat himself and she could already hear the sirens. The sirens themselves made her heart beat in anticipation. This was so bad! So very bad and yet she felt she had to do it this way.

Liz Fic Part 5

The bump of the club was getting on Elizabeth’s nerves. Normally the sound didn’t bother her but tonight was a particularly nerve wracking night because she wasn’t there to find someone to kill to sate her desire. In fact she was pretty well sated at the moment. She was there to stalk a different sort of prey. Another predator.

After the realization of what Dexter Morgan was Elizabeth had went home and did some research on him. He was spotless. The best she could find on him was a traffic ticket, from when he was 23. It wasn’t anything and it didn’t mean much especially since she wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find. Maybe “Dexter Morgan, Serial Killer” with a list of his victims? While it would have been convenient, it was doubtful. Whatever it was, she didn’t find it looking through her normal circuits. She did, however, find out where he lived which was a good start. That was how she ended up here.

Elizabeth followed him here from his home. Normally she would have went home after following him here but she came inside instead. It was a perverse need to watch another predator stalk their prey. Her need to interact with another person that needed the sticky feeling of blood on their hands to stay sane. It was her darkness reaching out for his.

Elizabeth kept an eye on him the entire night only leaving time to blink and eventually that cost her. She had lost him in the crowd in the split second it took for her eyes to close and open. How was that even possible?

She swung her head around looking frantically for the man she had lost but in the sea of bumping bodies he seemed to be gone.

“You know I thought we agreed that after the Adams case we’d see each other,” an amused grumble said to her from behind. She turned her eyes up to see the face of her prey for that evening. “I’m sorry. I have a thing for a man that looks like he can handle a knife, I mean me, I mean himself,” she said with a shake of her head and a chuckle.

“Sit down and I’ll buy you a drink,” she said offering him the seat next to her.

“Nah. I actually think I’m going to call it a night,” he said to her.

Damn. She was hoping to talk with him. “Didn’t find what you were looking for?” she asked him.

“No,” he said throwing a thumb over his shoulder as an indication that he was getting ready to leave. “I’m going to head out. Long day at work and I’ve got to get up early.”

“Mind walking me to my car?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug.

What else was she supposed to do? She was only there to watch him and he was leaving. Her best plan was just to leave too.

Elizabeth left the half empty drink on the counter as she let Dexter lead her out of the club. When they got outside she couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips. She was glad that the insistent bumping of the club had been muted to a dull thump behind her as she walked.

He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Glad to be out of there?”

“A little. The pounding music was giving me a headache.”

“If you don’t like it then why do you go?”

To stalk a man that reminds me… of me. “To meet people. I met you tonight didn’t I?”

“I guess so,” he said giving her a thoughtful frown. “Did you come out here to meet someone in particular?”

Elizabeth was getting tired of the fake smile game but kept it up in case she was wrong about him. “Nope, I don’t have a special someone to go meet at random clubs in the middle of my work week. You?” she said with a bump of her shoulder into him.

“I was looking for someone but they weren’t there.”

Elizabeth nodded feeling that she had interrupted his ritual. That was rude of her wasn’t it? Well she would have to make it up to him after she got to know him better. “This is me,” she said coming up to her 2004 dark blue, hatchback Ford Focus. She gave him a nod and a smile in which he returned the nod but not the smile. Elizabeth thought that was a bit odd since he seemed so good at fitting in with the situation.

“Who are you?” he asked her more darkly then she had anticipated his presence imposing on hers in an attempt to press her closer to the car.

“My name is Liz I’m the woman that the cops think murdered my next door neighbors.”

“I know that, but who are you?” his eyes narrowed at her. “I saw you outside of my apartment.”

A low grunt escaped her throat as shoved her shoulders back into her car, his knee held her up, his forearm quickly pressing her painfully against the cool metal frame behind her. Then the blade appeared a beautifully crafted, stainless steel, chef’s knife held rather painfully beneath her chin against her jugular, “Who are you and why are you following me?”

The question was absurdly hilarious! She couldn’t help the reaction as her head fell back the knife still held painfully firm against her neck as she laughed. She could feel the small tingle as the knife dug deep enough to draw blood. He drew first blood then which was fine, she had been the one stalking him, poorly.

“Well I already told you that my name is Liz but that’s not what you want to know is it?” she questioned him as she pulled her head back up the blade of the knife scraping dangerously across her skin. “Why am I stalking you? Well I thought it was obvious Dexter. We have something in common,” she said with her toothy alligator grin.”

The pressure of the knife loosened for a moment before being pressed harder then before followed by a bizarre twist of him mashing his lips against hers. She yelped into his lips before she relaxed into the kiss closing her eyes, her arms reaching around him to pull his body closer to hers. She could hardly believe what was happening it was all so amazingly sexual. All of her favorite things mashed together in one place.

Blood.

Pain.

Pleasure.

The possibility of death.

The hand that had been holding her against the car moved to help push her higher on it their lips still hungrily devouring one another. She could die at that moment and be happy to die. She was not as alone as she once thought. The crushing loneliness that made her work dangerously close to the line of unsafe.

It was minutes, maybe hours, of being pressed against that car before he removed his lips from hers panting in her ear. “Your mine,” he rasped before the blade that was pressed against her neck shot a cool pain into her as he sliced across her jugular.

For a moment Elizabeth was surprised by the action, her eyes wide, accusing before she smiled and her body slumped down to the ground as he removed himself from her, his green shirt soaked in her blood. Her blood. Wasn’t that a beautiful canvas to stare at? Her own.

She gurgled a thank you as she stared up at his darkened silhouette, the only thing she could see clearly were his eyes and the hypnotizing blade that he held stained with her blood.

My blood is so beautiful.

Elizabeth could feel herself slipping away as the darkness began to surround her vision as everything began to fade, the life draining out of her.

Liz Fic Part 4

Elizabeth fell out of sync for the third class that day as she jumped up and down teaching the thirty-odd people in front of her a new routine. They didn’t notice, how could they? But she could and it frustrated her. Her mind kept wandering to the man that morning, the one that looked familiar but wasn’t familiar. Every time it wandered, she faltered.

Who in the hell was he?

Why did she recognize him?

Why couldn’t she get her mind off of it?

Distraction 101. Think about something that draws your mind away from the task at hand. It’s always a bad thing.

“Liz, is something the matter?” Amanda asked her, the genuine look of concern on her students face as she approached Elizabeth after the class. “Yes. Why? Does something look to be the matter?” Elizabeth asked incredulously.

“Oh, well you just look a little sad is all. See you next week,” Amanda said with a smile and a wave of her hand still holding her aerobics towel. That is why you do not get distracted, people notice. “Yeah, see you next week,” Elizabeth responded as she always did, a bright smile on her lips as everyone left the expansive room to her.

Once the room was empty she moved to the wall and placed her forehead against the cool surface.

“Dexter Morgan,” Elizabeth said aloud for the first time since she had seen it written on the ID badge around the man’s face. “Dexter Morgan. Morgan. Morgan. Morgan. Where have I seen you before Dexter Morgan?”

“Excuse me, Liz?”

Elizabeth spun on her heel to face the door. Naomi the desk clerk was poking her head inside. “I’m sorry to bother you. I had tried your cell a few minutes ago. There’s some officers here that say they want to see you about something,” she said indicating to over her shoulder.

“You can show them in Naomi,” Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand a smile still apparent on her face. Shortly afterward she was faced with Detective Batista and Detective Morgan again. “Hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you both again so soon,” she informed them. Their solemn looks told her that this visit was not good, her first instinct was to run but she stood her ground. While she often listened to those tiny instincts the instinct to flee was not one of them. Fleeing insinuated guilt. Elizabeth was not guilty.

“Miss Thory,” Detective Batista started.

“Liz,” Elizabeth quickly corrected.

“Liz,” he said with a nod of his head. “Miss Adams’ son was also found dead in the apartment.” Now that was something she was not expecting, her eyes opened wide with shock for a few moments before furrowing together in confusion.

“That’s terrible but what does it have to do with me?”

“Well we’d like to take you down and ask you a few more questions if that’s alright.”

Elizabeth held a face that looked sorely confused. “I don’t understand.” She was a suspect and she knew it. Talk about bringing her life under the microscope.

“We just have a few questions that we need to ask you back at the station.”

“Alright I guess. I don’t see why you couldn’t call instead of coming all the way down here,” Elizabeth said moving to grab her stuff lifting her aerobics towel off of her bag and pressing it to her sweating brow.

“Well we did call you just didn’t answer,” Detective Morgan interjected.

“I told you I might not be able to hear you over the music,” Elizabeth countered with a smile as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. “After you,” she indicated with a single hand. What a perfect opportunity to attempt to see Dexter Morgan again. If she believed in fate she’d say it was that.

The elevator dinged just before the door opened to a room that was lined with glass windows and hip high desks all in one large room. Elizabeth didn’t know if she would be able to work in such a confined space like this. It was messy. She could already feel the draw on her energy just being there. Maybe that was half of the point to being brought here. The negativity made a person self conscious.

Elizabeth hummed a soft lullaby tune as she walked with a smile on her face nodding as she passed a few people. They all looked so solemn, like the tedium of their job was too hard to bare. What happened when it did become too hard to bare? Is that when the noble police officers that “just do their job” become homicidal?

Elizabeth wondered how many of them contemplated suicide and murder. Her eyes playfully crossed each of them her mind straying to seeing them holding a weapon of choice in their hand. She could imagine Detective Batista as a man with bloody knuckles after beating someone to death. Detective Morgan seemed more of a suicide case then a murderer, passed out with blood in her bath and pills all over the floor. A double dipper as it were.

Elizabeth saw another female with blood on what she could only assume was their husband’s mistresses sex whip. Another she saw with a concealing baseball cap and bat. Another had a noose around their neck as they filed away some paperwork.

As Elizabeth daydreamed she was lead into what she could only assume was an interrogation room. She looked around calmly setting her bag onto the table and plopping herself into the chair to look up at the two detectives that had disappeared behind a closed door.

Elizabeth frowned. That was rude of them. She quickly shrugged it off and began to look around the room swinging her feet beneath her. There was no point in being nervous. They had nothing on her even if she were to be their prime suspect for a crime she didn’t commit.

Wasn’t it ironic?

Elizabeth Thory a suspect for a crime she didn’t even commit. She huffed in amusement as her eyes lingered on the camera. Was he out there? The man she knew but didn’t. Dexter Morgan.

After a few moments the door clicked and opened to let the Detectives into the small room. She smiled more broadly tilting her head cheerily like she had no idea what could have prompted them to bring her down here.

Detective Morgan placed a file in front of her and sat down. “How well did you know the Adams’ again?” she asked.

“I told you that I didn’t know them very well. We were neighbors, not friends,” Elizabeth responded with a shake of her head. What didn’t they understand about that.

“Well it appears that the boy knew you better then you thought,” Detective Morgan said as she opened the manilla folder to expose some angry looking drawings. “We found these in the boys room with your name on it,” she said flipping them around so that Elizabeth could see them.

Elizabeth tilted her head furrowing her brow as she stared at the images. They were about death and how Elizabeth was a killer and about how she planned to kill him and his mother. Instead of looking alarmed she smiled more broadly and laughed.

Elizabeth looked up at the officer’s and shook her head in amusement. They looked at each other like she was going to confess to what they were thinking she had done. “You have to be kidding me. You brought me all the way down here to explain some pictures from an eight year old?” she said trying to contain her laughter. She rubbed her eye as she shoved the images back at her. “I did a favor for Piper a few years ago and the boy never forgave me. She didn’t have the heart to take his dog to the pound so she asked me to. Unfortunately there was a miscommunication as to when I was to be over to pick him up and the boy ended up coming home when I was taking the dog out of the house.

“He never forgave me for that. Check the Greenleaf Veterinary Clinic. It’s under Piper’s name but the dogs name was Chowder,” Elizabeth looked at them with a playful smile on their face. “If you look at the pictures there is a dog in the background of them all. Piper told me about it but never showed me the pictures,” she explained waiting for one of them to leave and check the information.

“So why would he say that you were going to kill him and his mom,” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t have any idea. I’m an aerobics instructor not a psychologist,” she said with a shrug and chuckle.

You’re not taking this seriously. You’re neighbor is dead Miss Thory and you are our prime suspect. Where were you last night?” the scrawny brunette snapped trying to get Elizabeth to break.

“Camping,” Elizabeth said plainly.

“Do you have anyone that can collaborate that?” Detective Batista interjected.

Not a live one.

“Unfortunately not,” she answered simply.

There was a tap at the door and Detective Batista went outside to see what it was about.

“Just tell the truth. You killed Piper and her son and went home like any other day. What did she do to piss you off? You are bigger then her it probably wouldn’t have been hard to overpower her, you’re very fit,” Detective Morgan said.

“Feel free to get a warrant and check to see if you can find the blood in my home,” Elizabeth informed her. “I didn’t kill Piper or her son. I had no problem with them,” she explained as Detective Batista returned to the room.

“You’re free to leave but stay where we can contact you. No more camping,” he said with a shake of his head.

Detective Morgan got up frustrated. “She’s the one I can feel it,” she murmured to the other as Elizabeth collected her things.

“We don’t have proof Morgan,” he said gruffly back to her.

“I’m sorry I’m not a great help to you both. If there is anything I can do please don’t hesitate,” Elizabeth said clutching her bag closer to herself as she left. She was hoping it would throw a red flag to indicate there was something inside of it. Get them to take it back, give her time to find Dexter.

“Liz,” Detective Batista called after her. “Do you mind if we look in the bag?”

Elizabeth set it down on the desk she was standing next to throwing a hand out. “Not at all.” She took a few steps back, further into the open expanse of the office looking around to see if she saw him. She avoided the people that she imagined with their murder weapons or suicide of choice and looked for the familiar face amongst the crowd of unfamiliar people.

Elizabeth smiled at the Detective as he looked to her while he rummaged through her bag. “I warn you there might be icky stuff in there. You may want gloves. I sweat a lot.” That seemed to get his grubby fingers out of her stuff for a second to seek gloves. He should have had those on the entire time shouldn’t he have? It didn’t matter much to her, they wouldn’t find anything.

Elizabeth’s eyes went from the Detective back to looking for Dexter. This time it didn’t take long. He came from around a corner. Look at that stride. He looked so confident. He was a knife man, like she was. He took a personal interest in killing his victims, or he would, if he were a murderer like her. She bowed her eyes in disappointment as she was one of the few like herself.

The neat monster.

Elizabeth looked back up to see his eyes on her. “Hey… you. I saw you at the crime scene earlier. What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes skillfully glazing over what Detective Batista was doing.

“Apparently I’m the prime suspect,” she informed him her eyes shooting to the detective which just looked up for a moment before returning to removing things from her bag.

“Oh. Well oh,” he said looking awkward.

“My name is Elizabeth by the way. Please call me Liz though. Thank you again for letting me get to work earlier,” she informed him placing her hand out for him to shake.

He took it. His grip was firm, one that would make most women woozy in the knees for him. “Dexter Morgan.”

“Lovely to meet you Dexter Morgan,” she said with a slight lift and fall to their hands. “Now I hate to repeat myself but I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before,” she informed him although their hands hadn’t separated.

“I wouldn’t know where,” he told her again.

Elizabeth’s eyes furrowed and she recoiled her hand as if he had burned her. She knew why he looked so familiar, it was like looking in a mirror. “My mistake then,” she informed him with a smile. If she knew then could he tell too?

“All done. Sorry about the inconvenience Miss, I mean Liz,” Detective Batista said bowing his head as he stripped his hands of his gloves.

“Thank you Detective. You have my cell,” she said turning back to Dexter. “Will I see you again?” she asked him.

“Well after this case maybe?” he said with a shrug. She reached into a side pocket of her bag for a pen and a piece of paper. She quickly scrawled her name and number onto the pad before handing it to him. “It was great to see you again,” she informed him with a smile before she picked up her bag. She gave him and the Detective a nod before she began toward the elevator.

She could hear the detective tease him. “Woo Dex. I think she’s hot for you,” was all she could hear before the elevator doors slammed shut in front of her.

She didn’t believe “hot” was the best term for what she felt.

Interested?

Curious?

Seduced?

Probably.

Liz Dexter Fic Part 2

Elizabeth panted as she sat in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest, her hands on her face as she began to calm down. She slowly brought her bloodied hands over her choppy brown hair as she took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. She felt so amazing right then. Her entire body tingling with the triumph of a fresh kill. It was like sex to the veteran serial killer.

Elizabeth relaxed where she was for a while, leaning her head back and closing her tired eyes. She was exhausted. Her profession was extremely exhausting but the way she felt right then made it all worth it. Nothing compared to the sensation of torturing a fellow human being, listening to them suffer, before you took the mortality that wasn’t yours to take. It was an exhilaration that nothing had ever rivaled for her. She doubted anything ever would either.

After a few minutes had passed, her body began to relax, the adrenaline ebbing in her system, her body beginning to shut down from the long days of torture and lack of food. It was when her eyes closed for a few minutes that Elizabeth knew she needed to get up and move before she passed out from sleep deprivation. She didn’t sleep well as it was, her mind always working when she hadn’t experienced a kill in a while, and when she took someone in to murder she stayed awake for days enjoying the every waking moment that she can.

Elizabeth quickly ran her hands over her disheveled hair to push it out of her face. The action was not worth the effort as the dried blood just forced it back into her face. With a groan of displeasure she pushed herself off of the floor to begin the process of cleaning up after herself.

Each of her tools, even the unused ones, were placed into a bucket of bleach water. First check mark was done. Next was collecting the evidence that they could use against her when they found the body. She liked to believe they always found the body.

She clipped his nails.

Shaved every part of his body.

Washed him down with bleach.

Propped him against the wall while she cleaned up everything else.

Elizabeth sat and scrubbed for hours. She started in a corner and scrubbed. She used a small brush and was careful to include everything. Not just the things she knew she had touched but the things she didn’t know if she had touched them. The chipped paint cupboards. The sink. The floor, the walls. Everything was carefully scrubbed and rinsed with her yellow gloved hands.

It had been hours but for all she knew it could have been days by the time she reached her corpse. He was so beautiful without one of his eyes. It was so sad that she couldn’t leave him in his canvas state. The blood that had smeared his body earlier in that day made him look majestic to her. Now he was a blank canvas again and she couldn’t repaint him.

Elizabeth gave the man a halfhearted smile before she moved to lift him. He was so much heavier now that he was dead, even though he was ten pounds lighter then when she had tugged him down the stairs. Dragging him back up the stairs was a task in itself. Once it was done and he was in his shallow grave miles away from the place that she had just killed him in, she felt the relief that overcame her when she was almost done with her job. She quietly turned and lifted the shovel beginning to methodically cover the man with fresh dirt, the soft crunching sound soothing her tight muscles as she worked.

Elizabeth returned to the home and continued to clean. There was always so much to clean after she did her job. The stairs were next. Then the hallways, the rooms. Everything had to be cleaned. No trace that she was ever there could be left. She couldn’t be found because she was careless.

When Elizabeth was done she walked outside to the hose. She took the scrub pad and bleach to her own body. She scrubbed until her skin began to burn. She still felt dirty, like she had forgotten something but she knew that was how she always felt after a good kill. She got dressed in her fresh replacement clothing after throwing the discarded remnants and trash into her trunk. Finally she was ready to go home.

Elizabeth slid into her car and pulled away from the rickety abandoned home in the middle of nowhere, and began towards her home in Miami.