• Irony

    By: Zack Gage

    “Goodnight, sleep tight.”

    “Six o’clock tomorrow alright?”

    “Yep, I’ll be there. Love you.”

    “I love you.” I kissed her goodnight, leaning out of the window to reach her lips with mine. It was short, it was sweet, and simple; but it held all our love we had for one another. My name is Richard Roone, and my life is perfect. My sweetheart, my love, my fiancé, I watched as she made her way into her house, the black long skirt catching the fresh droplets that were left from this evening’s rainfall on top of the grass.

    She’s perfect in everyway. She’s the perfect height, a few inches shorter than I am, allowing me to hug her tightly and comfortably, fitting perfectly against my frame when I hold her close. Her kiss was gentle, but at the same time it held a bit of excitement; as if I can never get enough of it. The sex, it was beautiful, a strange way to describe sex being that I am a man, but it that’s the only way I can possibly describe it, beautiful. Just as she is.

    As the last sight of her left my vision through the darkness of the house I turned my gaze to the road and accelerated my car once more; making my leave of the development. The radio was off, leaving me with my own thoughts. Thoughts concerning my life and how much I’m fortunate to be living it. I must admit that I had a few rough patches here and there, but ever since I met my love, my life couldn’t be any better.

    I’m to be graduating from my university in four months with my bachelors in medical because that’s what I wanted to do. To help people. I want to be the person to help the pain go away for some people, or to change a person’s life for the better. I have a position being held for me at a local hospital, they wish to hire me upon my graduation. That’s not the greatest thing however; last night I proposed, and now in nine months I will be married to the most beautiful woman in the world.

    For the rest of my life I will wake up with her in my arms; feeling her breaths brush against my chest and our bodies given each of us the warmth we so crave. We’ll have our own place together, perhaps on a ranch or on a lakeside away from close neighbors so we would have our privacy. A place without neighbors so we won’t be suckered into pointless gatherings with people we wouldn’t give too much thought to while we would each have our thoughts on the bedroom we could be making love in. No, we’ll have privacy so that we can be completely devoted to one another.

    In a year or two when things are settled down and I have money saved away from my career, we’ll have our first child. A baby boy. Someone that, when he gets older, I can teach him how to throw a ball and teach him when he’s even older about God’s gift to men and how he should treat them. We’ll have a little girl as well, my precious, one that will not be allowed to leave the house alone, or to have any male friends until she’s twenty one and moved out. Then me and her will talk about the possibility of her having a boyfriend. She’ll be my little girl, and she will be just like her mother, perfect.

    My thinking can possibly point out that I’m being far to obsessive, or perhaps planning too much in advance. That’s not true however, things are going as God wills it to go. Perfectly. My life is just that now that I have her. She’ll be my wife, and she’ll be the mother of my children, and the grandmother of my grandchildren, and I will be a doctor, helping any and all who are in need. I’ll have my own medical office one day so that anyone who enters will have my utmost attention and care. After I help them they will say ‘Thank you Dr. Roones. Oh and how’s the family?’, and I’ll smile at them and reply ‘They are perfect.’ Just like my life.

    But wait! What’s this? A fellow driver in trouble? Their flashers are on, and I turned my high beams off so that I won’t blind the person that’s in need. I pulled my car over to the side of the road behind the other car. From the driver seat I can see that the person is a woman, obviously distressed and possibly frightened. The poor thing, she probably doesn’t have a cell phone and unable to call any help. It’s no wonder why any woman would be frightened in a situation like this, it’s dark and they have no means of transportation.

    I shut my car down and stepped out of the car, “Do you need assistance miss?” I asked as I walked towards her, she remained standing in front of her car.

    “Yes sir, please.”

    I smiled and made my way around to the front of--

    I watched as his body collapsed to the ground, his limbs twitching a bit as the brain struggled to process the fact that I had just shot him in the head. My name is Sherry Conner, and I’m the friendly neighborhood serial killer.