Let your lack of action
be on your conscience.
— The Sixth Flip
I had a copy of Doug's keys, so I started going back to his house to mess with him, but not too often. At most, once a week. I was always in and out. Only when he was at work. Never on the same day. Never at the same time.
Each time I was there, I'd take one of the books off his bookshelf and flip it, so the name on the spine faced the other way. Next time I was there, I'd put it back and flip another. Did he notice?
I made sure the batteries in his remotes were always dead.
I started putting lemon juice on his shirts. Just a little. It was invisible once it dried, but his iron would make the juice stain brown. He irons on Sundays. Tell me you didn't just think, "How would she know that?" You know how I know.
I bought packs of the same decks of cards I found at his house. I replaced some of the cards with doubles of others so he wouldn't notice until it was too late. Even better, he'd think it was his fault. That's a great way to wreck a guy's poker night.
One time... OK, three times... I hid lipstick in his washer. Bright red. Purple. Green. Little slivers of lipstick were easy to hide. I thought about making his dryer go up in flames, but I wasn't trying to burn the place down. That'd be over the top, even for me. I just wanted to fuck with him.
And why the fuck does green lipstick even exist?
I'll tell you why. Because you can use it to stain a guy's laundry green.
I couldn't find blue lipstick, so I mixed dye into his laundry detergent. I made sure it was the same color. Undetectable. He probably washed his clothes in more of it, thinking he could wash it out.
I never messed with anything in his kitchen. I was saving that for the end.
For Doug's end.
Fuck it. I was already three bodies down. Steve, Boogie, and the mark Boogie killed while coming after me. I didn't kill them, but I caused it. I know that.
Hell, I ordered the hit on Steve so I could rob him without consequences. As I drove away from his house that night, in his car, with his money, I knew the road I was on. I knew who was behind the wheel. And I liked it.
And in that moment, I knew what I must do.
"I must win," I said to the demon lurking in the darkness of my own mind. And the demon smiled because the darkness was me.
That night, my demon won.
I couldn't walk away from the eighty grand I found in Steve's house. The money was there for the taking. But I couldn't risk him figuring out I was the one who took it.
Thus, "I must win" meant Steve must lose.
That's why I was able to look him in the eye, knowing I was the reason he'd be put down. "I'm gonna borrow your car for a few more days," I said. "It's not like you'll be using it. Hopefully, you'll be out of the hospital soon."
And he was.
And he met Nono.
Goodbye, Steve.
That was the moment I knew what I'm capable of. I feared it, but I liked it.
Shortly after Steve, I met Doug.
Doug tried to date-rape me, and I let him off the hook. I thought making him fear me would be enough. I thought I'd won.
No, no. He was wrong, but so was I.
I could have ended it there and then, when I had him tied up in the warehouse, or when I was standing in his kitchen. I could have ended him, but I wasn't strong enough. I didn't know then what I know now.
I've got what it takes.
Do it once, it's a thing you did.
Do it twice, it's a thing you do.
Do it more, it becomes what you are.
I am that. But luckily for Doug, I wasn't ready.
Joking with Claire about mixing antifreeze into Doug's scotch was only a test. I needed to hear it from my own mouth, to see how it felt.
It felt wrong, which meant I wasn't ready. But it also felt right.
Right and wrong are two sides of a coin. I flipped a quarter five times, each time telling myself, "Head goes down, Doug goes down." Motherfucker landed heads-up every time.
I wasn't ready.
But if I knew where to get a two-tailed quarter, I'd have bought one and flipped again.
Let me tell you something. There are people you lie to, and people you don't, OK? I don't give a shit about you, but I have no reason to lie to you. So right now, you and me? Let's get real.
If you knew you could end someone. Someone specific. Someone who did you wrong and gave you cause. And you knew you'd face no consequences. Would you do it?
"Of course not," you say.
You lie, and that's fine.
Lie to yourself, if that's what it takes to fall asleep at night, but let your lack of action be on your conscience. I was running out of patience with mine.
For the moment, however, patience would have to do.
Because I had work to do.
Editor's Note:
All of above is terrible. We do not condone any of it.