text: I never thought at twenty-nine I would be alone, with a cat. Living in a big old house like some old spinster lady. My mother always said confidence was the key to survival, looks would only get you so far. I mean I'm not bad looking. I packing a few more pounds than I should be. But that's because food and loneliness seem to go hand in hand. I wouldn't call it fat, more voluptuous. My work at the hospital takes up most of my time. It's the kids, they mean the world to me. My mother always wanted me to be a doctor. I always felt it would have been too much pressure, too much responsibility. That's why I decided to become a paediatric nurse. The kids aren't just sick kids, but they're my friends. I don't know maybe it's that maternal instinct in me. It Makes my job so much harder when we lose one of the kids. Other nurses tell me not to get emotionally attached, but those kids need me. I'm the light in the darkest days of their lives. My mother was a very confident woman, beautiful, with flowing blond hair and emerald green eyes. It always drove my father mad when other guys would pay her attention. It would send him into jealous rages, but my mother being my mother could handle his temper. My mother always said I had her looks, but not her brawn. She was right, my crippling shyness is another problem. Men either think I'm weird and walk away from me after they try and approach me. Then there are the guys that just want to take advantage of me. Which unfortunately has happened more times than I like to remember. People seem to think if you're quiet they can say or do whatever they want to you. What people don't realise is that still waters run very deep. Now I'm not saying there is no interest there. There is this one guy Mark but I'm not sure about him, yet. He is very handsome and he did make me chuckle the first time he introduced himself to me. The thing is there was a stage where I thought he was following me. I would conveniently find him places I normally wouldn't be. When he finally came up to me he gave me some half-cocked reason for bumping into me. He did seem genuine and he adamantly apologised for coming off as creepy. I will be honest it's hard for a lot of men to get a chuckle out of me, especially a stranger. He texted me this morning asking for a date. But I haven't the courage to reply back. For one, I hate going out. I can feel very out of my comfort zone and that would be enough to spoil the night and come across weird. Passing a dress shop on the way home from work. I notice this new dress in the window. It was gorgeous. A beautiful pink dress with lace trim. I would look sexy in that. If only I had a reason to wear it and I did. All I had to do was text him. I decide to buy the dress, my finger hovers over the send button as I summon the courage to invite him to my house for dinner. As I peer at my reflection in the mirror. I was amazed at how glamorous I looked. It doesn't seem like me, but to hell with it. I can see my mothers disapproving eyes glaring back at me. Sitting on the couch my heart begins racing. I stare at the clock. He's late, over a half hour late. I must have freaked him out. As the minutes slowly ticked by I hear the knock on the door. I try and compose myself as I open the door. He standing on my porch with half his shirt tucked in, hair a mess and mud on his pants. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and a rucksack in the other. He smiles at me “I'm so sorry I'm late, please forgive me. Had a problem in work and I literally got dressed in the car on the way over. I chuckle in pure amusement at the thought of him getting dressed in his car. He hands me the bottle of wine. “The rucksack has my tools in it. You don't mind if I leave them here with me.” I smile and shake my head and gesture to him to come in. About a half hour into the meal the conversion wasn't flowing he tried his best. I knew the awkwardness was going to mess it up for me. He eats his last bit of desert “I don't mean to be rude but can I please use your bathroom. I get up from my chair “it's upstairs last door on the left. As he was upstairs, I couldn't help but wonder what was in his bag and why he couldn't leave it in the car. I listen by the door as I look through the bag. In it were a hammer, duct tape and a Stanley blade. Strange I thought a carpenter would have more tools than that. As I'm holding the bag in my hand. I hear him walking around one of the bedrooms. I leave the bag on the ground with just the duct tape and the knife left in it. I slowly make my way up the stairs to the landing. He steps out from one of the empty bedrooms and arrogantly dusts off his hands. “This is one beautiful house you got here.” I look at him and smile “is that so! well, let me show you around then.” I walk him down to the last door on the right. I swing open the door “this is my mother's bedroom.” He steps into the bedroom and recoils back in horror. As he does I hit him in the head twice with the hammer before he drops. As his body jerks and spasms and he gurgles some incoherent babble, I couldn't help but notice his shoes were untied “How rude.” I hit him again in the back of the head, I didn't want to kill him, tonight is a special night. I drag him down the hall to one of the rooms I had turned into a makeshift surgery. The benefits of working at the hospital. Also through the years, you learn a lot about the anatomy of the body from working with the doctors. I strap him down to the table. Doctors weren't my only source of ingenious ways to torture and cripple people, films are a treasure trove of ideas on how to hurt and maim people. I love the act of hobbling very effective way to immobilise the person. But it's only truly effective if you break the humerus bone in the arms as well. There's not much they can do after that. Before I would just simply sever the spinal cord. It was funny to look at when they're conscious. But there body's are really troublesome when trying to move them. As I clean down his body with alcohol. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. “Won't be long now my love.” When you don't know what you are doing lobotomies can be very messy. Which I had to learn the hard way. I remember reading about a serial killer who would inject acid into the brains of his victims. For him, it wasn't effective since they would die shortly after. I find the perfect amount of diluted Sulfuric acid injected into the prefrontal lobe through the eye, is enough to make them utterly and completely submissive. I dress him in one of my father's suits and prop him up in a wheelchair I got from the hospital. I wheel him down to the last room on the right. I step into the room and wheel him over to the bed. I look down on the wrinkly dried skeletal remains of my dead mother. “What do you think mommy, he is so handsome ain't he.” I wipe the drool dripping down off his chin “what's that mommy, no I'm not a dumb bitch and he won't leave me like the rest of them.” As I wheel the body of my last victim out of the room I turn to my mother “I think this one could be the one.