Crazed

Griffin was furious with his mom, and when he arrived home, he slammed the front door hard enough behind him to rattle the decorative rain-glass panels embedded in the wood. For over two years since the Craig Myers incident, he’d been working especially hard at playing the dutiful son. More than dutiful: the perfect son. He starred on his school’s football, baseball, and basketball teams. He excelled in his classes. He’d even stopped sneaking around the house and spying on his parents. While he had his dad fooled completely, not good old mom. The crazy part was he gave her no legitimate reason to be afraid of him. Absolutely none. And yet she acted skittish around him, like she was a lamb being forced to peacefully coexist with a wolf. In a way, he enjoyed her fearfulness, even though he wanted to hide his true nature from her. When he was ready, he’d reveal to her what he was and then he’d have his fun, but until then he knew it would be better for him if they were to maintain their uneasy truce. Right then, though, all he could think about was getting his hunting knife from where he kept it hidden in the basement and skinning her alive.

Of course, he wasn’t going to do that. It wasn’t time yet. But he wanted to do something to her, something more than simply fill her with irrational dread, and he damn well had his reason. Everything in his life the last two years had been an act: sports, schoolwork, the few “friends” he tolerated. His only true passion had to be kept bottled up. What choice did he have after seeing how close he came to being blamed for Craig Myers’s death? He knew his time would come, but he also knew that wouldn’t be until he was old enough to go out on his own, and until then living his lie every day was a slow, methodical torture. Then three months ago he discovered heavy-metal rock music and it was a godsend for him. Not that it made up for the other part of his life that he had to keep buried, but at least it was something. A small crack so he could breathe. This new interest made it at least seem possible for him to bide his time until he’d be free to unleash the beast that was restlessly lurking inside his skin.

One of his new favorite bands, Cannibal Corpse, was supposed to be at Tower Records in Cambridge that afternoon, and the only favor he had asked of his mom in over a year was if she could pick him up after school and drive him to Cambridge. That was it! In her pathetic way she’d acted hesitant about it, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea of spending time alone in the car with him, but in the end she agreed to do it. And of course, after school he stood outside waiting for her like a dope and she never showed up. After wasting twenty minutes, and then spending another twenty-five minutes running the two miles from the school to his house, he was going to miss them, even if they left right then. As he thought about that he wanted to hurt her badly, even if it meant giving her a glimpse of his true self.

He raced through their small mansion looking for her, and he found her in her bedroom, lying facedown on the bed. Before he saw the empty prescription bottle and the open bottle of vodka on the floor, he knew something had happened. He had felt it even before he entered the room. It was as if he had picked up a scent of death in the air. As he moved closer to her, she stirred. She wasn’t dead, only dying.

Griffin avoided the puddle of vodka soaking a widening circle into the carpeting, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He gently rolled his mother onto her side so that she’d be facing him, and he used his thumb to force her eyelid open. She moaned and her eye looked cloudy, unfocused.

Griffin had a good idea which pills she had washed down with vodka. Ever since Craig Myers had died, his mom had been sedating herself with Valium. He picked up the empty bottle so he could read the label, and sure enough, that was what she had taken.

He smiled at her, because he decided he was okay with her dying this way. He didn’t need to torture her for hours the way he’d been imagining, as long as he could see the exact moment when life left her. But he was still going to make it worse for her.

“You’ve been right about me all along,” he told her in a soft, singsong voice. “I tortured and killed the Maguire cat and I forced Craig Myers to walk across the pond. I knew the ice was too thin and he’d fall through. He had me sweating for a few minutes because he almost made it across, but it was so sweet when the ice cracked apart.”

“I am,” he admitted. “I had such wicked plans for you after I turned eighteen, but watching you die now will be almost as good. It’s even worth missing Cannibal Corpse for. You want to guess what my plans are for good old dad? How I’m going to kill him without anyone suspecting me so I can inherit his money?”

He didn’t get any response from her. Instead, she just closed her eyes. He sat quietly and watched as her breathing grew increasingly more shallow. He could feel that death was imminent, and he forced both of her eyelids open. There was almost nothing there. After several minutes passed, her eyes became as lifeless as glass. He felt for a pulse and couldn’t find one.

An exhilaration struck Griffin so intensely that he thought he might pass out. This giddiness left him at first unable to move, but after several minutes he was able to get up and call for an ambulance. He even managed to sound distraught.