Heartstopper by Joy Fielding

Author:Joy Fielding
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance Suspense, Mystery & Detective, Fiction, Romance, Suspense, Thrillers, General
ISBN: 9781416527015
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2007-01-01T18:30:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

KILLER’S JOURNAL

I didn’t feel so hot this morning so I stayed home and rested. Not sure what it was. Fatigue maybe. Or some bug I picked up. I hear there’s something going around, which doesn’t surprise me. There’s always something going around. It’s kind of scary when you think about everything that’s out there, all these microbes and bacteria, exotic viruses, weird and deadly strains of flu, all of them just hiding, biding their time, waiting for just the right moment to make their presence known.

Sort of like me.

I don’t get sick often so I knew something was wrong the minute I got out of bed. My legs felt wobbly and unsteady, as if the floor were on a tilt. I was nauseous and dizzy and had no appetite. My muscles felt as if they’d been transformed into flaccid rubber bands, incapable of sustaining my weight. “I just don’t feel like me,” my aunt used to say whenever she got sick, and for the first time I understood what she meant. So since it’s Sunday, and there was no urgent reason for me to push myself, I chose to give myself the morning off. I deserved a rest after all. I needed time to recharge my batteries, regain my strength. There’s still so much to be done.

Maybe it was last night. All that celebrating in the park. A celebration of death, as it were. I followed the proceedings carefully. I confess it gave me a thrill. Maybe that’s what made me so light-headed this morning. Maybe I was suffering a celebratory “death hangover.” If so, hopefully it’s the first of many.

So what was I doing all morning as I lay in my bed? Was I thinking, plotting, selecting, anticipating, remembering, letting my imagination run wild? Well, yes. All these things. I’m a very creative person, even if this is something that is rarely acknowledged and certainly never encouraged. People tend to pigeonhole you. They think they know you. They grow complacent with their perception of who they think you are. They don’t want that perception challenged or altered. They don’t want to know more.

The truth is they don’t know anything.

Take my aunt for example.

She thought she knew me.

She was wrong.

Have I mentioned I killed her?

Shame on me, although truthfully, I feel no shame. Not anymore. I did for many years. Too many years, I realize now. Oh, not for killing her. No way. She deserved what happened to her. No, the shame I’m talking about was the shame I carried with me while she was alive. God, how she used to terrorize me! How she loved to make me feel guilty! How ugly and worthless she made me feel! She was one of those people who truly deserves to die. And she was my first. My virgin kill, as it were.

I’ve already alluded to some of my experiences with my aunt: the time she took me to a neighbor’s birthday party and almost let me drown, the way she subsequently

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