Daigon: First Dance Water Swordplay (Dance Of The Minds Book 1)

by R. K. Star

  “I remember you, I was such a short-sighted teenager before. I said a lot of preposterous things in the past and I regret them. I don’t know why I did it but it was probably to fit in and be cool.

  “You fit in and were happy but you made my life miserable!” I could feel the anger boiling inside.

  “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  Joan had a sincere look on her face. Suddenly I felt a bit happy and relieved but then I felt displeased. I want to release physical tension. I want to get even physically, tit for tat.

  There were some moments pause where neither of us said anything. I wasn’t prepared to respond to an apology.

  “I wasn’t a strong person and followed Lisa’s lead.” She couldn’t look me in the eye as she spoke. “I wish I was stronger and stood up against Lisa idiotic choices.”

  What should I do now, forgive and forget? Forgive and forget. Did I have it in me to be so peaceful?

  No, no, no, I’m an eye for an eye type. I rather we all suffer then one person suffers and tries to let go of their grudge. I had to get rid of my anger and hatred the only way I knew how.

  Without warning I whipped my palm against Joan’s face. The force rocked her back, her cheek bright red with a hand mark. I could feel the heat on my hand, it ached a bit but I could tell her cheek was burning for sure.

  Joan looked up at me, eyes teary. I used my left and gave her another quick one across her left cheek. Then again with my right hand. I was feeling content, after all those years Joan put me through now I’m going to return it back to her. My last strike knocked her down to the floor.

  I took a step closer to her and she raised her hand. “No more, no more,” she spoke softly and was sobbing. She was pitiful.

  I grabbed her long silky smooth red hair and wrapped it around my hand then yanking her backwards. The forceful pull on her scalp cause her to yelp in pain.

  “How come you never stopped bullying me when I begged you,” I whispered in her ear. “Years and years of torment you gave me. It had a long lasting effect on my self-esteem.”

  I was getting riled up now. Images flashed one after another in my head of all the years I suffered. I felt rage which lead to resentment and enmity towards Joan, towards Stephanie, towards Lisa. The more fury in me, the more images appeared and quicker they became. This was a rapid cycle that was consuming me with hatred.

  I smashed Joan head against the floor as If smashing a coconut against a rock. She let out another cry as the blood stream down her forehead. I went again and there was another thud sound as her head made contact. I yank her head up again. She was very loose; her neck was flimsy as a rope and her body was slouched as if it carried the world. Her eyes wander astray not sure when or what was happening.

  “Please, please…” She spoke in a very fragile tone, I had to lean in close to hear. Had I paid her back in full already for the years she tormented me?

  There I was sitting on top of Joan as if I was straddling a horse, using her hair as reins. Her body almost lifeless as it laid flat on the floor. Slight rises of her chest was visible indicating she was breathing. I hurt her so bad If Joan went to the police, I would be charged with felony assault and could face up to twenty-five years prison time. I couldn’t let Joan ruin my life anymore. I hadn’t thought about the consequences for getting even with Joan. All I wanted for Joan was her to suffer for the pain she put me through. If I told her now we are even there is no way she would let things end like this. The cut of her forehead would leave a scar and she will have resentment towards me for what I’ve done even though she was at fault first.

  Could there be another way, another way where we both could get out of this mess. The only way possible was if she was willing to drop the grudge from today. I had no more resentment towards her now but there was still one more thing I must do. I had to kill Joan. There is no other option. I’ve done it before, and I managed to get away with it. There was a gleefulness with that thought. I had to kill Joan and disinfect her apartment. Surely I had left finger prints and other evidence here.

  Joan had cleaning gloves underneath her sink, from this point on I would minimize leaving prints around. It will give me less work later on. I grab a soft yellow sofa pillow, it was a perfect size. I flipped Joan around to her back. She made a moan but her presence wasn’t with her. She tried to reach out to get a grasp of something. I gently laid the pillow on her face and as if she knew what was about to happen she started to move. Her legs kicked and her hands shot up trying to reach for me. Her neck flexed and she tried to raise her head. I applied firm direct pressure. I used gravity and the weight of my upper body and I applied the pressure straight down, down as hard as I could. Her legs were flailing, her torso jerk to the right then to the left, trying to break free. She reached her hands out and grabbed my arms. Her acrylic nails dug into my skin and she pulled and dug in further and pulled again. Pieces of my skin was being flayed off with her nail. I grit my teeth together to stuff my squeal in. I didn’t want her to know she was having any effect on me and she wasn’t breaking free. Blood tricked down my arms.

  Ten seconds passed and her strength seemed to be increasing. She twisted with more desperation each time. It reminded of crocodiles when they locked into something they would twist with their whole body to sever off a chunk. She arched, swiveled and then spiraled and I lost my position on the right. In a second she broke free and shot up on her feet. I reached up grabbed her hair and pulled her backwards and she fell back downwards. With hasted I grabbed the hair on each side of her temple, raised her head up and smash it against the floor again. I didn’t want to cause her anymore unnecessary pain. It brought me no pleasure now but she refused to stay down and I had to kill her. If I let her go now it would be one step up from felony assault. I’m at attempted murder now and only dead people cannot report to the authorities.

  I reached for the pillow again and battered it on her face. Quickly I took my hands off and raised my buttocks and cradle her face with it as if I was a hen hatching her eggs but not as gentle. I used my knees and pinned her arms in place. With my hands I held her hands down so she could not scratch me. She twisted and turn again, her legs trashing but I was in a very dominant and stable position.

  Ten-seconds passed. She continued to trash with vigour. I kept my butt firmly seated.

  “Joan, I didn’t want to kill you but if I let you go, you would have gone to the police and my life would be ruined yet again because of you.”

  I heard a muffled mumble from Joan but I would not give her a breath to speak.

  “Please be still, I don’t want to cause you anymore pain then necessary. I have no more grudge against you but understand that you must die. There’s no other way.”

  Joan continued to mumble as the seconds pass. I could only assume she would beg me to let her go and she would not say a word and her injuries were from an accident.

  Fifty-seconds now. Joan trashing had gone to a weak motion, she no longer had the strength to fight for her life. Her arms were not putting any resistant. I relaxed my arms but kept my knees to keep her pinned down. I wasn’t going to take any chances. I inspected my arms and they were bad. Skin with some flesh had been ripped off. There was no way I would be able to pass this off as an accident. It was obvious someone scratched me with intent to do serious harm.

  I knew it took much longer to suffocate someone than the thirty-seconds in the movie scenes. Biologically, I knew how suffocation kills but had no idea how long it would take. To ensure death I wasn’t going to release the pressure until well after ten minutes. Although I believe Joan would have died from asphyxiation long before that. Especially because she was fighting so much she would have used up her stored oxygen quickly.

  After one and a half minutes there was no movements from Joan. Nonetheless I would keep the pillow in place. Across the room was the television, with my mind I turned it on. I change channels until I got to the news. I took my knees off her arms. She had no movement I believe she was un
conscious but not dead. Careful to continue the pressure I repositioned myself so that I was still sitting but my legs were more comfortable and stretch out. There I sat watching television for the next few minutes.

  Finally there was no doubt in my mind that she was dead. I got up and stretched my legs. I gently kicked and pushed her body to check if she was alive.

  Now I had to cover my tracks. I found some bleach in her bathroom and started scrubbing vigorously every surface, corner and sliver I may have touched. It took me several hours before I felt comfortable and that all my prints were gone. I even scrubbed Joan’s body, at least anywhere I may have touched her and any part of her that touched me. I paid special attention to her nails as pieces of my skin and my stained blood was stuck in the crevices.

  If they did an autopsy they will find Joan died of asphyxiation. I couldn’t toss her out the window and make it seem she committed suicide. I dragged her to her bedroom and stripped her naked. I place my gloved hands around her neck and applied pressure to leave strangulation marks. I found a couple of pleasure toys in her drawer. I inserted the dildo into her vagina quite vehemently, in and out and repeated it for a while. For good measure, I put it up her anal opening. My gut turned as I did this, it was a horrible feeling to do this to a deceased body. When I was finished I felt inebriated and almost threw up. I made sure to clean the dildo and placed it away neatly. It was more obvious that this was a rape and murder case.

  As a final touch, I went to retrieve the branched that I used to rape John with. It was still hidden in the bushes, nobody had found it. I shoved the branch up Joan’s vagina a few times and made sure some of the dried blood was left around the cavity.

  At this time I had the urgency to leave this place. Seeing her corpse and being inside the apartment made me want to vomit. I felt guilty and disgusted with myself. I found an old pay phone and rang 9-1-1.

  “Hello, 911 emergency service.”

  “Hello, when I walked by the hall I heard some horrible sounds. I believe someone on my floor was being raped.”

  “Where is this?”

  “Clearview apartment at 727 Clearview road, the eighth floor.”

  “We’re sending an officer to investigate. Please stay…”

  I hung up the phone. I said what I had to say.

  15

  The trio

  I was miserable and moody for the next couple of weeks after murdering Joan. I attributed my feelings due to the nature of the murder. Joan wasn’t all that bad and by no means she deserved to die so horribly and then to have her corpse raped.

  Joan parents held an open coffin funeral ceremony, they weren’t doing so good. Joan was an only child and a precious daughter to her parents. Joan’s mother was famished, you could note her prominent cheek bones and her bony arms. She grabbed on to the rail for support. I could image she ate very little these last weeks. Her body withered away to a thin frame of bone and skin.

  Lisa and Stephanie was also in attendance. I thought for a moment if I should turn around and run but Stephanie caught sight of me. Our eyes met for a moment and she gave me the same expression she gave when we were in high school. It was an expression you made when you saw dog shit on the shoe after stepping on something mushy. I hated her.

  I approached the front to greet Joan’s parents. “Sorry for your loss, may I say farewell to Joan?”

  Joan’s mother eyes burst in tears, streaming down her face. The sight brought tears from my eyes. I felt nauseated, loathsome, incurable, monstrous and many other things. I hated myself. Her husband wrapped her tight and gave me a nod to proceed to Joan’s coffin.

  Joan laid in a gorgeous burgundy oak coffin with beautiful metal finished side rails. I wondered how much money the undertaker milked from the grieving parents, that selfish greedy bastard. Joan had a lot of make up on and dressed to the nines. She was a very attractive young woman and a shame her life was cut short.

  I lean closer to Joan face and whisper quietly so no one else could hear. “Sorry Joan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this but it was your fault you started it. You made this happen. Sorry Joan but you have no one to blame but yourself... But don’t worry I’ll get your sisters to accompany you soon.” I didn’t linger around. I left after saying my words.

  A look into Stephanie’s eyes brought out the animosity towards her. I would send Stephanie and Lisa to accompany Joan. It was the least I could.

  After I got home, I sat on the sofa and lean back into a comfortable position. I closed my eyes and imagine Lisa and Stephanie as a person. I would reflect back on all the time they harmed me and decide what I will do with them.

  I closed my eyes and wandered into the past. I remember grade six in elementary was not a bad time where I wasn’t bullied but I didn’t have the same friendship as other children back then. My awkwardness was noticeably visible to a trained observer. My mind wasn’t that quick as other students. You would believe I had an intellectual deficiency compared to my peers. Perhaps it was this that cause me to lag behind and drift apart. Perhaps it was this for why the kids started to pick on me. I was but a child, I saw children having fun with their friends while I walked around and kicked the dirt, wishing I was part of their group but never invited to join. The class was divided already at a young age. There were those that was interested in sports. Those that were interest in books and imagination. Those that were into academics. Those that were into computers and electronics and etcetera. I had similarities to many of them and interested in many of those subjects but could never quite imagine why I didn’t fit in to any. Was it because I was an introvert, was I too shy? Whatever it was it started early in my elementary grades but became exceedingly noticeable in grade six and the beginning of junior high.

  Junior high was completely different. Perhaps it was due to attending to a new school. Perhaps we didn’t have the same teacher teaching all subjects anymore. Something about the change marked the difference and suddenly even the untrained observer could note how awkward I was and how I didn’t fit in. It was the beginning of grade seven that my bullying nightmare would last for years.

  It started off innocent enough similar to how a predator test its prey’s strength and resilience to fight back. Sometimes a piranha chews off the fins of its prey, challenging it and crippling it before making more fatal bites. I was that unsuspecting fish. First there was a student that would make comments about me that weren’t necessarily hurtful but picked on the insignificant things. I remember once someone made a comment about how I had a bit of a moustache growing and it was gross for a girl to have moustache hair. Biologically I mature quicker than my counter parts but I notice other girls in my class had a bit of moustache hair growing too and some even more than me. After that comment I felt so insecure. When I went home I saw I had a bit of hair on my upper lip but it was light and so fine it was barely noticeable unless your stared and focus on it. I didn’t understand why I was being picked on but I was.

  Little things like this happen, my appearance would be picked on here and there but they weren’t vulgar or rude. I remember once someone commented on my attire and how ridiculous it was. I thought it look nice and was a fun outfit and much better than some of the other students but only I was picked on. Everyone had their opinion but they didn’t necessarily have to voice it and hurt my feelings. I had opinions of other people but never did I voice it. Once I sat next to this girl who had a natural odour that was rancid but I didn’t tease her about it. Yet she mentioned how stupid my name was and everyone around who heard gave a chuckle. I thought me and the rancid smelling girl would watch out for one another and protect each other’s back. However, she took an emotional jab at me every chance she got.

  Mid way through grade seven is when Lisa took note of how everyone laughed when I was teased and she began to do it. It was then followed by Stephanie and Joan. Lisa would start saying hurtful and rude things. She would tell me to get out of her way and push me aside. Similarly Stephanie and Joan follow her lead. When I
wasn’t looking they would steal my paper or steal my pen. At the beginning I would ask if they took my items but they would deny it and I had no proof so I had to let it go. People saw who took it but said nothing. One time I scratched my initials onto my pen and pretend to look away knowing someone would take it and then Stephanie did take it. I told her to give it back but she said it was her. I told her I saw her take it but she said I saw wrong. It was her pen the whole time and she brought it from home. Finally I used my trump card and told her my initial were on the pen at the bottom. She looked and no doubt she saw L.N was scratched on it. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she still denied it was my pen. She said L.N stood for ‘love, nan’ and that her grandma gave it to her. I laughed at her and said why would her nan give her a cheap pen with a poorly scribble engraving. Her smart mouth had nothing to say back to me. Her face stupefied and her dull brain working overtime to come with a smart rebuttal against me. Her face was full of anger as she was stumped, finally she said, ‘I don’t care it’s mine and you can’t have it back’. If it was her pen why would she say I can’t have it back it didn’t make any sense. I shot my hand up grabbing the teacher’s attention. I got the courage from my anger to say Stephanie stole my pen. The teacher came over, inspect the pen and favoured my story over Stephanie ‘love, nan’ story.

  I thought that incidence taught those girls not to bully me anymore and they couldn’t get away with it. I couldn’t have been more wrong. After doing that the trio became even more hostile and aggressive. The teachers were as bad, they ignored what happen in their classes. After they did their lesson it was quiet study time and all they had to do was keep their head down and pretend nothing was happening. After all, the class was only fifty minutes in length. They would teach for thirty minutes then pretend they were oblivious to whatever happened in the other twenty. The trio took advantage of the teachers’ slack and tormented me class after class. I tried to sit away from them but they would follow me and sit on the adjacent desks. Sometimes I would wait for everyone to have a seat then pick one of the remaining seats but then the girls would move and force the other students to swap spots so they could get closer to me. All the other students were afraid of them and didn’t want to get bullied either. They did as they were told, hoping they would fit in and be seen as one of the cool kids.