| sat underneath a tree for a while, hoping they had just forgotten me, that they would be
back, but they never came back. | discovered a path that led through a small forest to a river.
That is where | sat until a couple found me and called child services. From there, nobody was
ever able to find my parents. Either that, or they didn't try. After seeing my already thick file,
they decided | was a lost cause; the time | spent in the psychiatric hospital after killing my
sister was a huge red flag that made me essentially un-adoptable.

| didn’t want to be adopted. Not after my first (and last) foster home. The sadistic pig that
insisted | call him “father” had his dick chopped off in a fortunate accident the same night
| ran away. After seven years of floating between crack houses and shelters, | got my first
job fetching coffee for a wealthy kid that owned a small company downtown. He was the
type of kid that was likely told “you are special” every day by his parents. In my eyes, he was
just another rat-bag twenty-something-year-old that thought he deserved the world. When
| couldn't handle him anymore, | put a small helping of rat poison in the little baggie of
cocaine that he kept hidden in his desk. Just enough to make it look like an overdose.

“You're not special.” | muttered from behind her. She continued to
walk, not seeming to care that she was stepping in almost every puddle.
The beach was empty and cold. My boots were getting heavy
from the wet sand. When we reached the water, she knew not to turn

al

around. She was either very smart or very desperate to stay alive.
Judging by her quiet demeanor and cooperation, | assumed it was \
the former. By this time, her hair was soaked and it clung to her bare }
back. Her skin was peppered with tiny goosebumps. | let her watch
the river for a few minutes. | noticed her shoulders slouch slightly as
if she had relaxed. | let her get too comfortable.

| let her watch the river for a few minutes, then | shot her in the
back of the head.

The sound was deafened by the river that was carefully cradled in

=

the small forest. She collapsed face-first into the water. For a moment,

| considered collecting her and bringing her onto the shore. Instead, She didrt- scream She looked lit

| only watched as her body was taken by the current. By the time
anyone would find her, her body would be so beaten by the rocks and the type of gut that would scream
branches of late-spring landslides that she would be nearly un-recog-
nizable. For a moment, | wondered if anyone would look for her.
Nobody looked for me after they found her body. Nobody ever does.

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