I knew how things were going to go down when I stopped to ask that young woman if she needed a ride.
Like most of my previous passengers, she was apprehensive, but so tired from her journey that she was grateful for the ride. She told me an obvious lie about why she was on the road.
I wasn't fooled. I knew she wasn't on her way home or to a friend's house, and I knew no one would know where to look for her.
We made small talk while I drove to my special spot. We talked about the upcoming cold front and the contestants on The Voice.
I was getting anxious. I hadn't done this in years, but the pleasure of the kill was the only real emotion I had ever felt. I was excited, giddy, and she changed that.
When I made my move to end her life and shoved the blade into her chest she choked out three words, three words that destroyed my world.
It's time now. Those three words have been haunting me for weeks. My pistol is against my temple and all I can hear is that sweet, innocent hitchhiker's voice.
"I forgive you."