It's been June 12th for seven months now. First couple of weeks, I had no idea what to do with myself. Drank a lot, smoked a lot, jacked off a lot. Shed a few tears for lost opportunities.
Suicide was fun but useless. Like every child of the 80s, I'd seen Groundhog Day more than my fair share. True love isn't something I ever saw coming my way.
Wouldn't mind rutting around with that MacDowell broad a few times, though.
Month or so in, I figured out the pattern. No matter when I slept or died, I'd wake at 7:04 AM, cracking the same sore bones. Not a morning person; oh well.
If I tried to stay up, it was like a veil dropped over me and I blacked out. Done a few tests and haven't seen a time past 11:32 PM before the world reset.
Often wondered what happened to the people outside my field of experience. I mean, the whole world ain't gonna stop, right? More concerned with those in my world anyway.
The ones I can see and touch.
I remember the first time I took a life - three months and two days in. Was having a bad day, needed to blow off some steam. She came around the corner wearing a miniskirt.
Shapely legs and a tight little ass always catch my eye. She smiled at me. I smiled back. Then, I caved her head in with a nearby brick.
The sound it made was like a chorus of angels snapping necks of the scorned.
Take me to church, eh? Got arrested, but managed to wrangle away the cop's gun and paint his cruiser with my two cents.
Next day? Same piece, same outfit, same smile, across the street from my favorite coffee spot. Not a mark on her.
Where's the harm?
Today was one for the books; a spree. Cops in this shit town never know how to handle it.
Visited my neighbor's daughter to have a little fun with her sick day off from school (always blew my mind how much virgins can bleed),
disemboweled the family dog and left it strung up like holiday decorations in the hallway, then stole my other neighbor's car and went on a GTA-themed ride around town.
Tired. Let myself get caught, but not after taking down three cops in a glorious shootout. I'm getting burned out. Should take a break.
My cell is familiar. Cold. The clock on the wall keeps me company. It's 11:21 at night. Nearly there.
Head against the wall, a soft grin on my face. Can't help myself, it's been a good day.
Maybe I'll visit the neighbor girl again tomorrow
I can still hear the pigs, screaming 'bout how their buddies in pen are gonna take care of me, ha
Something feels off
June 13th, 2006