by Salem Eyob
The pages hissed ominously like leaves blown across the pavement. As every page revealed a new horror, a gruesome killing, an innocent life stripped away, one’s heart and mind could not bear to believe humanity could be so cruel. Sweat trickled down my face, as I began to worry what awaited my loved ones. A mere book had never carried such secrets, such events, yet nevertheless had a relentless murderer as its author. It lay still between my shaking hands. As I turn to the next page, I was aware I could handle no more; my eyes had been deceived by the words plastered on the paper, as if it had been…
The summer of 2010, one of my best summers yet, or so I thought. Vacation in the Maldives, quality time with family and friends, and time for me, to relax and enjoy the freedom that summer brings along. That July, I strolled gleefully into the library in search for a quick read, to last me the week. Slowly approaching the new additions aisle, I notice a peculiar looking book from a far. An authentic leather cover, a book strap and what seemed to be no title at all. As puzzled as I was, my fascination barged in and snatched the book away from the shelf. Without a glance of its interior content, I leave a note for the librarian, notifying her that I had taken a book. The following day, I embarked on a journey I wished I never began.
Unclasping the belt of the book, pages of handwritten texts were revealed. The perplexed look on my face grew tremendously.
September 2, 1990. 11:19 pm. Benjamin Rogers. He deserved it. He called it upon himself. The knife seemed fairly sharp that hour. My eyes were instantly drawn to how the edge glistened in the dark. How would it look against his throat? Trying isn’t wrong. It was relatively satisfying seeing the fear in his eyes, as the knife cut deeper and my smile grew wider. My heart has never yearned for such a feeling in a long time. No movement at all. No breaths. No heartbeat. A moment of silence to celebrate today’s job well done and more to come.
January 30, 1991. 9:55pm. Samantha George. What a wonderful woman she was. The typical silver screen type. Blonde hair, striking blue eyes, a slender physique, living in a large house, with a statement white-picked fence. All these beautiful things disgusted me. The radiant smile I wished to carve wider. I was drawn by her sickening beauty…
Reality had hit me: this was no ordinary book. The shock left me paralyzed, incapable of moving a muscle. I have just witnessed the first-hand documentation of an odious murder and the sickening thoughts of a murderer. Is this real? Why? Who does this belong to? These were some of the questions that occupied my mind.
A blend of shock and curiosity kicked in, I began to turn every page, read every word, as the stories of numerous murders were told. The dates grew closer to today. March 5, 2018. April 17, 2018. May 20, 2018. June 9, 2018. June 18, 2018. July 10, 2018. A murder this month, Julia Tuck, a 17 year old teenage girl. Descriptions of a murder never seen before. A revolting, psychotic murderer remains lurking in the midst of the streets, in the only place I can feel safe and call home.
Flipping the page, following Julia Tuck’s vile killing, I discover blank pages with minor headings on top. Taking a closer look, Alice John (July 30th, 2018- 8pm), Max Wilson(August 15th,2018- 7am), Melissa Matthews (September 21st, 2018- 7pm), the list continued. My family and my friends were all listed as future victims of an obscene murderer. Fear and fright devoured my every thought. I turned the pages faster and quicker, my cousin, my brother, my aunt, my best friend all simply written as parts of a to do list.
The last page, the last victim, of a yet to happen murder. My eyes widen to the sight of Charles (January 1st, 2019) plastered on the final page.
My name is Charles Thompson. I never went to the library that July. I never picked that book from that aisle. I never left a note for the librarian. I never winced at a choice I made. I never will regret the satisfaction. A moment of silence to celebrate a job well done and more to come.