by Joe Zito
So I struck up a little conversation with the boy today. He was dropping off some towels and sheets. I told him that it was ok to talk to me even if his supervisor told him not to. They tell housekeeping and some faculty not to engage with us, the crazies. But remember dear diary, I’m not crazy. It wasn’t me. Anyway I asked him how old he was. He said sixteen. He was looking down at his feet. He was already embarrassed as hell because I had just got out of the shower and was sitting on the toilet taking a pee when he knocked on the door. I told him just to come on in. I didn’t care. I never shut my bathroom door. Some things never change I guess, dear diary. He turned his head away when he saw me. I laughed and told him it was ok and that I didn’t care if he saw me sitting on the toilet. He started putting every thing away really fast, like he wanted to get out of there. I flushed and went out in my room. I had my hair up in a towel and was wearing only my bra, no panties. I told him to relax and that’s when I asked him how old he was. He wouldn’t look at me when I spoke. I told him he could look at me and not to be embarrassed, it’s just skin. Finally he did. We made small talk about his job and school and money all while I stood there with my womanhood hanging out. It was kinda funny in a way. I took my towel off and started drying my hair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend. He looked away smiling dear diary and he said he did. I did the ooohhhh that’s so cute thing just to embarrass him more. It worked. His face was as red as an apple. Do you have sex I asked him. It just came out dear diary. I knew it was wrong of me to ask him that. I told him I was sorry but to my surprise he said no. He hasn’t done it yet. I told him he was young and had plenty of time for that. Then, dear diary, he said it was her hair. And I said her hair? What? She has too much hair down below. Very bashfully he said he was weirded out about putting it in her hair because she has so much of it. Surely dear diary he doesn’t think that’s where he puts his wiener to have sex. Oh my god dear diary, that’s exactly what he thought! I ran to my door and locked it and took him by his hand and drug him into the bathroom with me for some emergency female anatomy education. I closed the door. I wanted to make sure we had plenty of privacy for our learning session. Ok, I said, all while trying not to laugh at the poor kid. I just came out and told him that you don’t fuck girls in their pubic hair. Of course you can rub it on there and it probably feels really good but it’s not sex. So I showed him dear diary. He covered his face but I smacked his hands away forcefully and smiled and told him to look. I opened myself up and spread my lips apart. His eyes got really big and I swear dear diary he went oohhh like he finally got it. I rolled my eyes at him and laughed and playfully knocked his forehead and asked what are they teaching you in health class. Do you not pay attention? I told him that I was saving him from an extremely embarrassing moment when he was alone with his girlfriend, parked in his car in the woods one night, trying to impale her pubic area. We both cracked up laughing and I told him to look as long as he wanted. I know the next thing I did was inappropriate but I asked if he wanted to touch me. Before he could say no I took his hand and put it on my vagina. See how it feels I told him dear diary. This is where you put it sweetie. Then I pushed his hand away and laughed and told him to wash his hands unless he wanted to smell like a women’s restroom. We walked out of the bathroom and I smacked him on his butt and called him a silly shit. It was all in good fun. I don’t know why I did what I did next but it happened and I say so what. Just as he was walking to the door to leave, I grabbed him and put my mouth to his and started kissing him. It was a full on makeout kind of kiss too dear diary. I put his hands on my backside and told him to squeeze. He did and I felt an excitement down below that I haven’t felt for years. My center felt syrupy and warm. I put my hand on his crotch and he pushed me away. Deary diary, I know you think that I wanted to have sex with him but I really didn’t. I just wanted to kiss him and let him touch me. I felt so embarrassed. My gosh, I’m thirty nine years old and he’s sixteen, what is wrong with me. I’m old enough to be his mom. Everything we did, ok, it was inappropriate but it felt innocent and just really fun. It was kind of exciting letting him touch me like that because he’s never experienced a woman before. Believe me dear diary, I don’t want that on my resume, fucking a sixteen year old kid, when I see the angels in the clouds. I keep telling myself that this isn’t the seventies anymore. I’m not the whore I use to be. It’s so hard sometimes.
March 22th 1992
Well, dear diary, I’m the big 4 0 today. Can you believe it? I can’t. You wanna celebrate with me? How about in the bathroom? Like the old days, just you and me. Just one time ok.
June 17th 1992
Eighteen years today.
June 22nd 1992
So the record store in the mall that I always go to on Saturdays has moved downtown in Blare. I like the new shop. It’s small and has a nice vibe to it. Some kid standing next to me flipping through some records made a joke about one of the albums and how all the satanic stuff was kind of silly. I just nodded my head and smiled a little. He looked really sad for some reason, like there was something terrible on his mind. I know the feeling.
September 3rd 1992
Whoa, dear diary, who is that hot, I mean HOT guy in that band. I saw them on MTV today. They’re really heavy, kind of like Black Sabbath maybe. But, oh my gosh, he is incredibly sexy with all that hair. He could sing pretty well too.
December 11th 1992
I don’t why dear diary, but I had the dream about the boy again. I haven’t dreamt about him in years. I forgot his name.
March 22nd 1993
I’m forty one today dear diary, and no grey hair! Ok, I lied. I have a few strands but that’s ok, I guess.
June 14th 1993
Susan told me today that she thinks Amy might be doing drugs. Dear god, I hope not. Susan says she is very distant and secretive most of the time. I just don’t know why Susan won’t talk to her. I mean she’s practically her mother; she raised her. Why isn’t she laying down the law? I feel bad for thinking this and I try to tell Susan this, but in a way without hurting her.
June 17th 1993
One more year gone and one more year until the twentieth anniversary of that horrible night.
July 6th 1993
I love the Smashing Pumpkins! And that blonde bass player is so damn cute dear diary.
September 3rd 1993
Dear diary, remember how I told you how I wouldn’t let it get out of control? Well, it’s not totally out of control, maybe just a bit. And you know what I’m talking about. If you must know, I’m doing it three times a day. It just seems like the closer it gets to the anniversary of Heather’s death, the more I want to touch myself. It helps dear diary. I hate to admit it but it does. At least for a little while.
October 20th 1993
So, I’ve been working part time down in the gift shop in the lobby for a couple of years now. And yes dear diary, it is way better than working in a hot kitchen or laundry room. Although I think the gift shop needs more hair accessories.
December 31st 1993
Goodbye 1993.
March 22nd 1994
Forty two and oh I am so blue. More grey hair dear diary. Oh well, I can always dye it.
April 3rd 1994
Susan said that Amy doesn’t come home until three or four in the morning sometimes. I feel for both of them so much. It’s heartbreaking to hear how Amy is destroying her life. And Susan knows for sure that she is spending her nights at that craphole cherrybombs. She says she hears people talk about Amy whenever she’s out, like at the grocery store or wherever. I just wish Amy would get it together.
May 12th 1994
When I was out this past weekend, I bought this cute little grey skirt for Amy. I think she’ll like it.
May 15th 1994
Oh, dear diary, Margret isn’t very well. I’ve been with her in her room most of the day. I don’t think she has much time left. I am so sad.
June 13th 1994
Dear diary, Margret passed away
this morning. I’ve been crying all day. We all have.
June 15th 1994
Only two more days dear diary. Susan told me that they’re doing a big news special on the Bludenhale massacre, I guess that’s what they call it. She said she agreed to do an interview. I sometimes wonder what the outside world thinks of me or if they even remember or care for that matter. I’m sure all the people affected by it at the time would like to see me dead. I also wonder what Amy thinks. I think about that a lot dear diary. I was supposed to take care of her.
June 18th 1994
Yesterday was hard dear diary but I made it through. There were a bunch of people outside with signs and they were yelling and screaming. It was insane. I didn’t think people would still remember, but they do. I just got done at the gift shop. Anita was so kind when she asked me if I wanted her to just bring me up something to eat from the cafeteria. I told her that would be great. She should be here in a bit. I’ve still been crying a little dear diary. But it’s ok. And I’m ok.
June 18th 1994
I don’t know really what to say about what just happened dear diary. My emotions are all over the place right now. I saw Amy. She came to visit me. When I first saw her I thought I was seeing Heather again. I started crying as she stood there with Anita. My goodness, she looks just like Heather. It’s been only ten minutes or so since she left and I’ve been sitting here on my bed trying to get myself together. I just can’t believe it dear diary. Amy…..I didn’t even know what to say at first. She seemed really nervous, which is understandable. I was too. For a moment I thought maybe Susan had told her to come see me, but that wouldn’t make any sense dear diary. I would only assume that Amy feels the same way about me as most of the people in Bludenhale. She didn’t act hateful at all. She was so shy. Maybe she did it on her own. I’m just so glad I got to see her after all these years. Of course Susan has always shown me pictures of her throughout the years and I do feel like I’ve gotten to see her grow up in a way through Susan. But to see her in person was so wonderful, yet overwhelming. I had to keep telling myself that she wasn’t Heather. They look so much alike dear diary. We began to relax a bit and started to talk. Although I didn’t say anything at all about what Susan tells me. I have no idea if Amy knows Susan has been visiting me for the past eighteen years. I talked to her about when she was a baby and how her mother and I would take care of her and play with her and be silly all the time. I told her how life was growing up in the seventies, well at least until I came here. What I really wanted to talk to her about dear diary, was, how she needs to stop working at cherrbombs and take care of herself and that she can live her life without all the bad things that are messing it up. But I didn’t. I think I screwed up though dear diary. I mean bad. I don’t what I was thinking but I suddenly had the urge to tell her the truth about me and Heather and what happened so long ago. I told her it wasn’t me just as I told Susan years ago. I scared her. I know I did. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a great moment we had for about thirty minutes and I blew it. I could only imagine what she was thinking when she left and how the me the crazy bitch was rambling about not being the one that killed her mother. But, I’m still so happy that I got to see her. I told her she could visit me anytime and I hope she does. Aside from that last awkward moment, I did pierce her ears. I noticed she didn’t have any earrings and told her I could do it for her and it wouldn’t hurt. I’m surprised she let me. As I did I felt like crying because I should have been there for her all these years, I should have had moments like these all the time, but I didn’t because the state of Indiana has declared me a threat and a killer. And I am not. Anyway dear diary, I’m glad her ears are pierced now. Although I don’t know why she never had them pierced before.
June 18th 1994
Hey, it’s me again dear diary. I can’t sleep. My mind is just racing. I feel all these different emotions. I’m ok though. I just wish I could sleep. Maybe it’s the moon peeking through my blinds, I don’t know. Actually, I do, dear diary. I don’t know really how to say this. I’ve never told you this before and I pretty much tell you everything. There’s been something I’ve been hiding in me for a very long time, I guess you could say I tucked it away deep in my subconscious but it’s always there. It’s been there from the time Red Brown gently sat me down in the back of his cop car when he found me on the side of the road. It was there when they put me in the holding cell at the Bludenhale police department. It was there when the jury pronounced me guilty. It was there when all those men were fucking me every Saturday night. It’s been there ever since Susan first came to see me in 1976. It’s there when I go out on Saturdays with my crazy crew. It’s there when I cut the ladies hair for bingo night. It’s there when I’m working at the gift shop. It’s there when I touch myself. It was there when I made up Jessica just to survive. And it’s here right now as I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror of my bathroom, deep inside my mind’s eye trying to claw its way out of me and I don’t know why. Dear diary, this thing, it’s been with me ever since Heather told me that she saw me in her nightmare, hung upside down, impaled to a wall with knives. And this room is so very small.
Part 3
Nightmare Revelations
1997
Susan sat across from Eldon at Joe’s Diner the following morning after her night of terror and complete understanding of the truth behind the Bludenhale Massacre of 1974. She knew now that Angel Larson was truly innocent. Girl couldn’t hurt a fly.
“I guess you could say I had a moment of clarity last night,” Susan said to Eldon.
His eyes had a confused, questioning look to them. Susan clasped her hands together. “The girl with long black hair, as you like to call her, the one accused of murdering those three kids in that garage, including my daughter Heather, well, many years ago she told me something when I went to see her one night and……”
“Excuse me Susan,” Eldon interjected, “but were you visiting her regularly? I don’t understand.”
Susan sighed and felt her face flush. “Yes, I am….well, I mean I was.” She quickly waved her hands back and forth. “I’m sorry. Let me start over. My daughter and Angel were best friends. They met when they were only five and were pretty much together every day since. In a way, Angel was like my second daughter.” She paused and could see Eldon was a little baffled by this information. She lowered her eyes to the table and spoke. “After my daughter died, I….I felt so empty. I couldn’t stand it. I missed her so much and still do.” She wiped her tears that began streaming slowly down her face. “So I had this crazy idea one day, I think it was about two years after the murders, to just go and see Angel, because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I missed her too.”
Eldon shook his head like he understood and maybe he did a little because he missed his wife.
Susan continued, “So, that’s what I did. I started visiting her about every other week and then once a week and them maybe twice.”
“Whenever I was in the room with her, I could feel my daughter’s presence. Maybe it’s because they were so close, I don’t know.”
Susan sat silently as if gathering her thoughts. Eldon made no effort to talk. He figured this was a heavy load for Susan to bear and that she was trying her best to come to grips with it. Just then a young waitress came up their table. Susan hadn’t noticed her when they first entered the old diner.
“Can I get ya’ll something to drink,” the young, blonde waitress said.
Eldon shook his head indicating that he had come here with more on his mind than talking about the weather and sipping hot coffee. Susan on the other hand, smiled and asked for a cup of coffee. She had used the last of her Folgers the day before and was dying for a cup of liquid caffeine.
“Ok, sounds good. I’ll be right back with your coffee ma’am.”
As the sassy, blonde waitress turned to go get the coffee, she saw Susan staring at her. She returned the stare and looked deep into Susan’s eyes and Sus
an felt as if the young girl was peeking inside of her mind, reading her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure. They held their gaze on one another for a few more moments but Eldon didn’t seem to notice.
Susan squint her eyes at the waitress like she was trying to understand what was happening. Then, the waitress’s facial expression turned to a mask of sadness and heartbreak like she somehow know of Susan’s downtrodden life as of late. Their gaze broke when a dish fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. Susan closed her eyes and then opened them as if coming out of her trance. She looked up and the waitress who looked like she came right out of 1957 had vanished.
“Susan,” Eldon said without any alarm in his voice.
She didn’t hear him. Her attention seemed to be on the waitress, because she was looking back towards the swinging double doors leading to the kitchen.
“Susan, are you all right?”
She quickly turned to Eldon. Her eyes were wide open like she was stunned. She shook her head and touched the sides of her head, like to relieve a headache, but she had no pain, just a strange fogginess.
“Yeah, I’m ok.”
Another waitress suddenly showed up and placed a hot, steaming cup of coffee in front of Susan.
“You were staring off into space, there for a moment,” Eldon told her.
“I was?” Her tone was honest. She really didn’t know where the last two minutes of her life had snuck off to. Eldon had a concerned look on his face and was wondering if Susan was possibly having a breakdown.
She laughed nervously and assured Eldon that she was fine and that it had been a long night for her, with hardly any sleep.
