A/N: This is a project for my Creative Writing Class. I’ll be honest, as a writer who normally writes really well my writing has been falling short…my mother passed away a month ago and it’s taken a severe toll on my writing ability; however, I am posting this work in progress in hopes that having reviews and somewhere to gain feedback will help me to finish it and edit it in later months for a publishing project.

Warning: This piece is rated MA for very explicit sexual, violent, and language content. The story is based on a love gone wrong that turns the victim into a psychotic killer with an affinity for killing men in a most interesting way. I apologize in advance and again warn against young readers.

Thank you.

Chapter One: Drowning Lessons

A kiss goodbye, your twisted shell
As rice grains and roses fall at your feet
Lets say goodbye, the hundredth time
And then tomorrow we'll do it again
Tomorrow we'll do it again

-My Chemical Romance

She stirred her coffee slowly, watching the ripples of brown liquid roll and slosh about as the spoon made small circles in the overly large mug. Tiny raindrops splashed against the window like teeny tiny pen pricks on the pane. Abruptly, she stood up from her place on the sofa, taking her coffee with her and pressed the tips of her fingers to the window. Her index finger traced the trail of a single drop of water as it made its way down the pane. Her eyes slowly rose to glance at the city below her. From her apartment on the twelfth floor in TriBeCa, Melissa Banks could see the beauties of the thriving city below her. Streams of cars lined the cramped road; drivers honked and motioned in frustration at the extreme lines of traffic backed up all throughout the city. The streets were littered with filth and garbage and pedestrians wandered from block to block. Poverty stricken families slept on benches or in make shift homes out of cardboard boxes. Cans, coins, and diapers littered the alleys as people made their way through the small suburb.

Home.

Melissa thought in a comfortable silence. The dingy streets, loads of trash, constant hustle and bustle of bodies, and gray colored skies dripping with rain, seemed to comfort her in some unknown way.

Maybe it was due to the fact that living in the “city that never sleeps” was a drastic change from her southern childhood. As a child she had spent much of her time isolated in her own little world, playing with the children and creations of her imagination. There had always been “quiet” time and plenty of time for reflection and contemplation, and personally that was something Melissa Banks couldn’t handle anymore. Any “quiet” time became too much, any minute she had to think, to relent, and to go back to those last years growing up in Eastern Kentucky she couldn’t take it. Having her residence here allowed her to lose herself in the bright lights, the glitz, and the rush of the city. Living here meant not thinking, it meant not having to deal, it meant isolation of the mind, and this is how Melissa Banks chose to live.

It hadn’t always been this way. As a child she had loved reading, writing, playing, and using her imagination to create the unimaginable. She had spent most of her time in her room dreaming of the life before her. She hoped to fall in love, to become something great, to reach for the unattainable, and to live a life full of dreams. Her heart was a playground of innocence and her imagination deeply cultivated her timid and humble nature. Growing up in Eastern Kentucky, Melissa had lived the defined life of what some call a “Southern Belle” she was shy and imaginative, but very ignorant of the world and its cold manipulation.

It was sophomore year when it had all begun.

When it all began to crumble.

After her second year of high school her world had become a catastrophe of events and heartache. Off and on again during her junior year, emotions ran high and circumstances changed, until the last quarter of her senior year, which was when everything fell away.

Melissa’s eyes darted up from the street and she quickly moved her hand from the window, rushing back to the sofa. Glancing towards her small coffee table she shook her head and headed back to the kitchen. Nervously, she dumped the rest of her coffee into the sink and placed the mug and spoon in the dishwasher.

She had let it happen again. For the past month she had been lapsing back into thoughts, memories, ideas, and dreams from her childhood and life back home. After eight years of separation, one would think she would be over it, able to let it go. But now, it was all rushing back.

Feeling the tremors of anxiety beginning to creep through her body, Melissa quickly strode towards her bedroom. Hurriedly, she pulled a black felt coat from her closet, throwing it around her arms she made for the door. After slinging her purse over her shoulder Melissa stepped out of the apartment, looking for anything to keep her mind from straying.

Stepping into the elevator she noticed the pristine look of its steel walls, perfectly polished, no fingerprints in sight. She pushed the button that would send her to the first floor, hoping maybe she could come up with something to occupy her mind with for the remainder of this rainy day.

After listening to the small clang of the elevator as it moved downwards towards the bottom floor, Melissa exited the cold, steel monster and briskly began to walk towards the lobby doors.

Once outside Melissa was met with the cool sensations of fall. A chilling breeze swept through the city, quickly creeping up her limbs and leaving small goose bumps trailing her arms. Pulling her sweater tighter around her, she breathed in the smells of the city around her masked in the covering of fall. She quickened her pace, hoping to find relief in her small office.

Melissa Banks worked in a small forensics lab for the New York Police Investigation Unit. Her office was located two blocks from her apartment in TriBeCa.

She enjoyed her work for the most part; being a very analytical and meticulous person, she was perfect for the occupation. She was head of the entire lab staff and found it rather empowering to be directing the series of investigations and research. Not to mention how cathartic it was to lose yourself in the fine details of another’s life. Day to day, Melissa took her troubles with her to her place of employment and put all her energy into solving the puzzles of countless murders and accidents that ran rampant in the city. Her work had been a gigantic change from her main interests in high school and the first part of college, but being a liberal arts major meant thinking critically and analytically in ways that Melissa knew she couldn’t handle anymore. The arts meant searching within yourself for answers, it meant analyzing yourself and your issues. Art brought out, reflected, and magnified the problems buried within your mind, and this was something Melissa Banks couldn’t afford.

She arrived at her office quickly being pulled from her daze of wondering thoughts, and opened the door to shove herself into another world. As she entered she was met with the familiar sounds and images of people in lab coats running back and forth in a frantic manner. Her body that had been on tense overdrive since that very morning, eased with the sight of so many people running amuck with stressed, worrisome, and sometimes overly excited expressions.

“Why in hell are you here today Sugar?” came a squalling bouncy voice from across the room. Melissa turned to eye Betty Cox, her confidant and dear friend.

“You know me Betty, I can’t stay away.”

“Shit. I’d kill for a day off, but no I’m always here working my ass off, and you get paid more than I do, and half the time I’m covering your ass.”

Melissa smiled. “Well, you never know, maybe one day you’ll be taking my place, and then I’ll be answering to you.”

“Not likely sweetheart. I can’t override Miss-I’ve-Got-A-Bachelors-In-Forensics-Studies.” Melissa shrugged.

“I won’t lie. Having a degree helps.”

“Damn right it does! You’ve got me wishing I had forgot being all wrapped up in getting married and having kids and went on to school and got me a nice little degree, then maybe I’d be paid half of what my work is worth.” Melissa smiled back at her friend. Betty hadn’t lived much of what anyone would call a “charmed life,” in fact she had gotten pregnant during her first year of college, decided to marry the man she claimed she couldn’t live without, and struggled for the next four years trying to garner an Associates degree just so she could have the job she had now. She had three children and lived in small run down apartment in the Bronx. However, she didn’t let the choices she had made in life bring her down; she kept a smile on her face and seemed to be very happy with her lot in life. After all, you only live once, right?

Melissa shook her head and walked back to her office. On the table she found a mess of papers strewn across her steel desk. Notes, memos, messages, and mail littered the table completely covering her itemized calendar that told her how to function on most days. Melissa quickly looked to her phone that was beeping a violent red beam across the room. Flicking on her office light, she pushed the message button to reveal she had four new messages. Two of the three were reports of notes on old cases, things she’d have to deal with in the lab later, the third was a message from her mother pleading with her to give her call, she missed her baby very much, and finally there was a message from another one. Another one being Melissa’s current clientele of customers that had nothing to do with her lab work.

“Hey Liss, it’s Mark. I had a wonderful time last week. I was wondering if you’d like to meet for dinner tonight. I made reservations; it would be wonderful to see you again. Give me a call back, thanks beautiful.”

Melissa snorted. Men, she thought dejectedly. All the same. However, that was her first reason for being involved in this business. Men had proved to be nothing short of painful and extremely dangerous to her mental health, so in response to such consequences of having her heart brutally ripped apart, Melissa had decided to serve justice in the matter.

After him, what did it matter?

And it was then that the stirring pain hit her. The deep inflamed burning that encompassed her heart and soul when she let it. When she let images of his smiling face enter her mind. Years upon years and been dedicated to forgetting him, but nothing could forever block out the man she had given her heart to, only to be completely destroyed in the end.

But that was fine she huffed in thought. She’d set out to seek revenge and serve justice to other women so they wouldn’t have to suffer her fate. Anger began to seethe through her body and the veins in her temple began to pulse with desperation.

“No!” She screamed, and pulled the phone from the wall and sent it crashing against her cabinet. In anger she began to pull things from her desk, chucking them towards the cabinets, the sound of glass crunching and bursting against the cabinet bringing comfort to her rattled nerves.

“Mel? Mel? Are you alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine!” She seethed through clinched teeth, as she hurled another inanimate object towards her filing cabinet.

“Liss. Liss. Hey, Liss. LET ME IN!”

Before she could stop it, Eddie one of the custodial staff had unlocked the door and in came Betty bounding over to her enraged friend.

“Melissa, what the hell?”

“Nothing. Sorry, I just had…I had a phone call that just set me off.”

“Mmm…a phone call made you go this ballistic?”

“Yes.” She groaned, smacking her hand against her forehead.

“Eddie, clean this up.”

The custodian hurried over to the cabinet to begin picking of pieces of glass and clear away the mess Melissa’s rage had constructed.

“Seriously, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine Betty. Just go back to the lab. I’ll be there in a second.” Betty exited the room quickly as Melissa tried to gain some small amount of composure.

This whole day had been wrong; everything had happened wrong, the memories, the quiet time, the phone calls, his face plastered against her cerebrum. Shrugging back her thoughts Melissa took a deep breath.

So this man had made her a monster. So what if she was doing something that could be incredibly dangerous? So what if she got caught? Wasn’t that what fighting for justice was all about? Wasn’t it about taking the risks in hopes of righting the wrongs served to you? In this case she was saving the lives of many other easily manipulated women, and if she could keep other women from the pain she’d experience, anything she could do was worth it. Right?