I had been looking forward to that night for a long time. Days. Nothing would go wrong. I had made dinner and sat down with her. My date for the evening. She was a woman I saw every day at the park, with her dog, walking at a slow pace so the dog could run off and come back as he pleased. She hadn’t brought her dog tonight, because she hadn’t had time to bring him.
Her name was Caroline but she wasn’t too keen on it. Caroline didn’t eat much. My plate was empty but hers still looked untouched. Her long blonde hair was almost perfect, the way it fell down her shoulders and back, with locks that almost curled, as if the hair really wanted to but was stopped. I really liked her top, too. It was tight, and the fabric was a deep, bright red. The colour looked good on her. I talked to her, and she listened. She was a good listener.
I asked her if she wanted to watch a film. She shook her head, but I persuaded her into watching the film with me, because I didn’t know what else to do. I got up and put my chair back, its armrests and chair seat perfectly in line with those of the table. I walked over to her to help her up.
I sat her down on the sofa, but she got up again. She wasn’t meant to, so I helped her sit down again. She got up. Again and again. Why would she not just stay seated?
I didn’t try to sit her down anymore. She tried to get rid of the ropes around her wrists. I stopped her. She was now sitting on the floor, and mumbled. I couldn’t hear her words because of the tape.
Caroline would never act this way. Caroline would want me. It seemed as if she - she didn’t want to be here - mine. But - but she looked like my Caroline! The hair and the top and - she was the same! Why wouldn’t she do what I want my Caroline to do! Stop! She needed to stop! So I, I-
I stopped her.
A week later, I am getting ready for my date with the blonde barista from Starbucks. I wonder if she will be a better Caroline than the others. If the blood will look as good on her as it did on the others.