Sirens

The one thing they don’t tell you about is the blood. If I had known there would be so much I would probably have chosen a different method, but I’ve come to find that there is a lot to be said about accomplishing a task with your own two hands, that and a fillet knife.

There’s that immense satisfaction in seeing a task out to the very end. The hours of arduous planning, to the climax of the execution. But then it’s just calm. There is a cold pervading calm that follows that initial frenzy; there’s the screaming to rival a banshee, then the wailing and pleading, they don’t tell you that either, the look of absolute desperation that creeps into a person’s eyes when they realise their life is about to end, it’s actually quite horrific. But then after it’s just silent. A bone chilling quite that could fool you into thinking you had simply closed your eyes and drifted off for a moment; but that smell, that smell won’t let you stay there. It drags you back with the ferocity of a sledge hammer, like fresh maggots feasting on road kill laid out in the sun to bake; the nose is not an easy thing to fool. I was suddenly incredibly grateful that it was my intention to get caught, I don’t know where I would even begin trying to clean this mess up.

But maybe I should start by telling you a little about myself and how all of this came to be. My name is Amelia Chase and I am a teacher at the local High School in a remote town off the outskirts of Connecticut called Hudson High, although for how much longer remains to be seen.