by Anh Van Pham

 

Stepping out of the shower into the blistering cold, I wiped the mirror free of steam.  The reflection was a huge disappointment. I faked a smile and all wrinkles sprang out of their hiding places. Six, seven, eight; there were more than the last time. Over the years, the number of wrinkles outnumbered the two little parallel moles on my right cheek. There was only true benefit from that shower. My hair was two shades darker and the volume had been compressed. The ends curled in every direction but the rest was flat and stood in place. But I knew better, they weren’t going to stay that way for long.

*          *          *          *          *

Gunshots echoed loudly on Center Street. Minutes ago, the thief was staring down at his victim with remorse. His eyes pleaded for the officer to dismiss the bank robbery and turn away. On the other hand, his Bonnie was yelling at the top of her lungs for him to “kill the son of a bitch.”

The silly cop wanted to play hero, arriving half an hour before the rest of his men. He had thought that this was a simple task to resolve. All he had to do was go in, look confident, threaten the robbers, and they would surrender no questions ask. Foolish law enforcer; this is nothing like the pretend games that you played when you were five, saving the day by shooting the bad guy was a mere fantasy. He thought he had everything under control. The thieves were paying attention to him. None of the panicking civilians on the floor were distressed. The entire situation was almost over, until an old man came over demanding his stop watch.

“Those hoodlums took my stopwatch. I demand they give it back!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Jeez grandpa, ain’t no one wants that old piece of jank.”

“Excuse me Miss. I am not your grandfather and my dear apologizes to the man who is,” the old man sneered. “All I want is my stopwatch. You can continue your heist once you return it.”

 “What it’s worth to you?” She cocked a smiled digging through the pockets of her military jacket.

“It’s priceless, passed down by my forefathers. You couldn’t possibly ever understand that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. With her right hand, she held up a gold stopwatch by its chain. It dangled loosely in the air and began spinning around slowly in circles. One could easily spot out “David Bye” engraved on the back in big block letters.

David Bye kept on pestering the officer to help him seek justice. He knew that the thieves would never listen to him. There was only one choice left. He annoyed the cop for what seemed like an hour. At this point all that the police officer could do was nod along.

“Sir, please calm down. Let me take care of this situation. Everything will be fine.”

Mr. Bye snickered. “Young man, where’s my spotwatch?”

“I said I would take care of that,” the officer replied.

Yet Mr. Bye wouldn’t let it go. He tugged on the officer’s sleeve relentlessly, insisting that the stopwatch was priceless and that there would be chaos until it was returned. The cop sighed and pulled the man aside to calm him down. Bonnie’s dull eyes sparkled and she lifted her gun into the air. She pulled the trigger and bullets went soaring into the ceiling. She demanded the officer to get down on his knees with his hands on his head.

            And that’s when a… Check into Cash Commerical came on. Stupid commercials ruining primetime programming at its climax, what a waste of time. Normally, I don’t care much for this time of the day. Ironically while waiting for my hair to dry, this show cam on. The plot was very similar with what I planned to do before midnight.

 

*          *          *          *          *

I waited for my weapon of choice to warm up. It need to be hot enough for the victim to feel pain but not so hot that he would fry. As my finger ran up the cold metal, my face glowed. The crime played repeatedly in my head. It had been awhile since I’ve done this. I longed for this feeling once more. The joy of seeing my victim dying in submission was indescribable.  My disappointment from earlier had been washed away with all this anticipation.

There was really only one tricky part. Waiting for the perfect time to strike. Too early wouldn’t be strong enough, making the process drag on. Too late would make the process go by too quickly. There would be no time to savor and enjoy the prize. I had to wait but I was losing my patience.

*          *          *          *          *

The cop’s mind was gone. All his thoughts had jumbled and tangled in a matter of minutes. And as cliché as it was, he really began reevaluating the thirty-one years of his life. Memories of happy times with his now deceased parents, clingy old girlfriends, demanding girlfriends, his ex-wife, his dog; there was not a single person or moment left out. Yet in the end, all of it meant nothing. He didn’t do anything worth of remembrance.

That was the actual goal of today. Steven had only been on the line for a year now, and before that he had a desk job. He was more of an office specialist for the police department than a field guy. He realized about a week ago that only half the officers in the department knew who he was. The rest just called him “hey you” and some just tossed him paperwork to file. He hated being forgotten and decided that he would make a difference.

Back stories… what a bore. I really didn’t need to know all the unnecessary details. I’m not a high school student analyzing every movie, television program, or novel for an A.

*          *          *          *          *

Three choices: right, left, or middle. Each led down to the same black path. The only difference was that the middle road was shorter. Before I made my move, I ran my fingers up my victims once more. This time they weren’t cold as before but instead a lukewarm. They whimper with my touch. They knew what was coming but there was no escape. There never really was.

Holding my weapon of choice, I grabbed a bunch and stuck them in between. Pressed hard, applied heat, and pulled them out. Examining my work, I was very dissatisfied. They had yet to beg me for mercy and still were not under my submission yet. Press hard, apply heat, and pulled them out. Repeat four more times. I laughed as slowly one by one they fell into my hands. I had flattened them over and over loving each moment as each strand suffered. How satisfying it was!

 Taming the nearly untamable brought thrill and joy to my heart.  I still remembered the first kill. It was exhilarating and tinkling. I was left satisfied for days. But soon I had become greedy, committing the same act of indecency three to four times in a roll. Eventually, it took a dull on me. My hands grew tired, I became impatient, and my victims laughing at my sad attempt. I gave straightening up for more than a couple months. Then one day, the invitation to my high school reunion came up and I felt the need to relive the past. My desire for straight hair overpowered all.