Meal

I did it. I ended the old man. He never even knew I was there, or he chose not to look my way. I don’t know why I did it, but I didn't feel bad about it. I didn’t know if he had kids, or grandkids, I don't care. Why should I care? He never did anything for me, just like everyone else. Thats why I'm here, no one ever wants to do anything for me, but when people need things done they call me. They call me for my truck, or for my drill, just things. People call me when I'm useful to them. The moment I'm not, I get tossed to the side. I bet I'm not the only one that happens to either. I bet that happens to everyone in the world. I bet it even happens to you. You’re not like me, though. You wont kill an old man for no reason. Even if you did, you'd probably feel bad about it. Not me. Nope. I don’t.

He's not the first one I've killed either. There was a guy in the arcade. He was ugly, but he had a pretty girl with him. That's not fair. I'm good looking. I'm nice. A nice guy. Girls dont want a nice guy though. They want a bad boy. So that's what I did, I became a bad boy. The first one wasn't with a gun. It was a wrench. I hit him hard, and his body started shaking a lot. The girl screamed, but I didn't hit her. Then the cops came. I didn’t fight it. I knew exactly what I did. I felt alive, but only for a bit. This feeling was something I would keep trying to chase.

The second one was in jail. He would take forever in the lunch line and it agitated me. Why is he taking so long? Obviously it was because he wanted to cause my displeasure. He wanted me to wait because he knew it would frustrate me. This time it was with my bare hands. I watched the life leave his body as I choked him in the food hall, and again I felt alive. I felt like God. I could take life just like him, and no one could stop me from doing it. They tried too. They tried to put me in solitary after that. Told me I'd never get out of here. “Life without parole” is what they kept telling me. It didn’t matter to me where I was as long as I could continue to satisfy my craving.

The last one was the old man. The one who didn’t even bother to look my way. Everyone else did, they noticed me. Some even got up to pay and leave. He didn't. He just kept trucking along and going about his day eating his food. That's why I shot him. You don't really know how much blood a person has, not even the movies do it justice. This guy was leaking all over the floor. Who cares about him. I won't miss him, and they won't miss me. That’s three people I've taken care of. Three people who were given up to satisfy my feeling of being alive. While that sits well with me, it doesn’t sit well with the law. I just ordered my last meal, I guess it’s the least they can do before they put me down. I really hope they didn’t forget the ranch.