Anecdote Of A Serial Killer

It was cold, wet and miserable that night. Winter had finally caught up with the rain and the attempts of snow that was around my bus stop and on the streets had just became a slush of grey murky cold mush. I was standing outside the bus stop in the snowy rain reading my book. I had spent the day at my sisters with her and my amazing nephew. 

Sunday dinners were still the best tradition in our family and though our mother died many years ago, me and my sister still try to keep that tradition alive. On my way out of the house, she said that I should be careful, the area she was living in was an unsafe and very volatile, but I couldn’t see myself getting into any spot of bother in the middle of all this bad weather. 

Or so I thought. The bus stop was quiet enough for me to carry on reading my book. That was until he turned up. This young thug, this urchin, this waste of man came and tried to cause me bother.

“Ere mate” nasally coming in my direction. It sounded more like he was talking through his nose than he was his mouth. “Ere mate” He said it again. But I’m still not giving him my attention even though we were the only 2 people at this bus stop. 

“ERE MATE” his voice gradually got loud enough that it sounded like he shouted it. So I looked up from my book and saw this cretten in his tracksuit joggers and top with trainers, this guy was not prepared for the snow whatsoever. He looked confident in his stature. As if he had a higher ground above me. 

“What?” asking him with a frank directness. “Goan geez a shot aw ya brolly” he insisted to me. Even though he was the one standing underneath the bus shelter and I chose to stand outside it to avoid any interactions, though it wasn’t stopping this guy from trying. 

“Nah you’re alright pal” I said trying to defuse this guy from continuing. 

“Aw Go on, geez a shot aw ya brolly”

“Why? What do you think it will do?” I’m keeping my patience tamed but it was getting tested badly now. “Nuttin. Just never used a brolly before” 

That was his reason. His one reason on why he wanted to use my umbrella. I looked at him like an idiot that he was. I went back to my book to continue to ignore what this guy was trying to get out of me. 

“What ya reading?” 

I close my eyes in frustration this time. I think that my bus can’t be too long now surely. Give me something to get me away from this creep. But I’m trying to keep my temper tamed. My anger has always got the better of me. Ever since I was little. 

My teachers in school had me do breathing exercises and count to 10 mentally in my head so I don’t lash out in rage against any of my other pupils. Even if they were the ones who were making me angry in the first place. 

But it was either I kept my rage to myself, or I lost it and I’m standing over one of the pupils who caused me so much grief. But my fist is covered in their blood because i’ve punched there nose out of place. 

I try counting to 10 again silently to myself. Start from one and work the way-

“Oi I’m talking to you, ya fucking bitch. What ya fucking reading?!” 

I start again from number 1 and try to count down to 10 again but its not working. I then feel the book ripped from my hand. 

Granted, I didn’t have much of a grip of the book from my leather gloves but it was enough to keep the book opened and read. But the creep has snatched my book from me and is now attempting to look at the book himself. 

“Hey what are you doing? Give me that back!” I shouted at him. 

“Naw fuck off. You did nae answer me. So ah had to find out!”. I try to reach the book from him with one hand that wasn’t holding on to the umbrella. But it was more of a struggle than I would have liked. He began to walk backwards from me, sniggering at the same time as if this is some sort of entertainment for him. 

“Give me back my book!” I shouted, using only a small part of my temper. 

“Orite fine”. He then purposely dropped the book into an open drain. It landed into the water underneath the drain with a splash. I never saw that book again.  All I heard was him laughing out loud. 

“What ya gonna do without your book now poof?” he said to me. I heard something inside me snap. Like breaking glass or a bulb going out. But suddenly everything fell into perspective. It was about this time I closed and folded my umbrella, put it behind the bench and began to punch this creep in the stomach. 

His confident demeanor soon disappeared when I threw the first few punches into his gut. He couldn’t fight back. I must have winded him really hard. It was excellent. I then grabbed by his collar and waistband of his jogging bottoms and thrown him through the glass window of the bus shelter. It exploded into a million large pieces of square glass. 

Now he was outside the bus shelter, lying facing the ground,struggling to move. I turn him over onto his back. His face looked like a christmas decoration. He had bits of gravel and glass sticking out of his already pre pubescent face. 

I sat on his chest using my knees. I took a handful of the glass shards like ice in my hand. He opened his mouth gasping for breath. I poured the handful of glass into his mouth, his eyes widened as it happened. It was as if he felt the glass go down his throat. 

He certainly felt my first when i began to punch the glass to down it. I then got up from him. He managed to spit out the remaining glass shards, which were covered in his own blood and spit. The very thing he was wasting. 

I grabbed him by the ankles and dragged his body to the road but left his head on the pavement. I got his head to bite the curb. All I imagined at the time was what the glass would have looked like from that angle. Before he felt my brogue forcing his face to bite the curb. 

His teeth scattered in the amongst the glass, almost unnoticeable in the dark. This guy really didn’t take care of his teeth. I picked up his limpless, hollow body and put it back on the broken glass. He almost looked peaceful on it. As though he was resting. 

I picked up my umbrella and began to walk to the next bus stop. It wasn’t long before I found the next one. As the bus pulled up, I kicked off the dirt and snow (teeth and glass) from my shoes and trousers bottoms and got on the bus. 

“You didn’t happen to see what happened up the road did you?” he asked concerned. #

“No i’ve only just got here. How?”

“Some wee bastard wrecked the window of the bus shelter”. I looked at him with the same disappointment he was wanting. As I made my way home, I began to wonder how old the guy must have been. Couldn’t be any older than 16, 17. Either way the problem was dealt with. I smiled as the bus carried on home being warm.