I watched Monday crying in the corner, no longer the bully it once was, having lost its power over me now that I’d started working on Sunday.

The power went out. The elevator stopped. In the dark you told me your fears and cried. The next day you fired me to keep your secrets safe.

“Laramy! You’re fired!” The best words I heard that summer. No more Burger Hut. On to bigger things. Now I work at Burger Chalet.

The desk knew my secrets, 30 years of business dealings and a secretary or two. Now I was retiring. I burned it to guarantee its silence.

I stood outside your door waiting to recite my poem. I hoped it would reach the humanity inside you and keep you from firing me.

Chapter 6:

Death

Roses were Jen’s favorite flowers. Mark used Jen’s checkbook to buy a dozen red roses and placed them next to her, in the wet cement.

“Write a story about hope,” said Paige, clutching tightly to the end of the rope. “Yes,” I said, watching till she fell into the darkness.

Walter looked down at his funeral, surprised to see people there. They actually missed him. Wished he’d known before taking the pills.

One. Two. Three. Jump. Seems easy, but I’m still here on our ledge... hesitating. Maybe you are working late this time...and not out with him.

I held her pretty hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Enjoying the moment, then putting it with the rest in the freezer.

Day 67. Food running out, not sure what to do. Bomb contaminated everything top side. How much more of me can I eat and still survive?

Mark applied sunscreen to Laura, trying to keep her from burning. The time would have been better spent putting out the fire on the boat.

“You haven’t seen Mr. Potato Head in days?” “That’s right, detective,” said his wife. “You want to explain the tater tots in the oven?”

I took the gun from her lifeless hand, aimed, and pulled the trigger. I loved her. She deserved more than to be listed as a suicide.

Pete realized too late that Rita was the Skull Crusher Killer and he was her next victim. Her legs squeezed as his muffled screams grew silent.

Eric noticed he was holding his breath, which was working against trying to drown himself. Even at this, he was a failure.

I met Barb in a coffee shop, where she sat in the back reading palms. I held mine out. She gasped, sensing she’d be my next sacrifice.

The dissection didn’t go as planned. Mary displayed the symptoms, but I could find no physical evidence of the devil inside her.

Gerald challenged me to fisticuffs and I accepted. The winner to get Mary. He approached, and I, not fully understanding the rules, shot him.