STAIRWAY TO HELL
Leticia dressed in a very suggestive manner, or maybe, everything looked suggestive on her. If I sent her to the walk-in refrigerator for a piece of meat, she would come out with her erected nipples. If she wore a short skirt, she would show her underwear left and right. She had no modesty at all. Tight jeans, tight t-shirts, or blouses, everything looked provocative on her. It was a little distracting in a good kind of way.
She brought new life to the place and my life. She handled her job with efficiency. Most of the customers already knew her. But I found a little inconvenient walking around with a hard-on all day.
Her light brown skin looked soft and fresh, even a little shinny. She had short brown hair. Her long legs were beautiful, but her breasts were the main attraction. When she smiled, a dimple formed on her left cheek. At first, she seemed average-looking to me, but over time, she appeared prettier each day. After three weeks, she still didn’t call me by my name.
Her dad was deported back to Mexico three years before, after three DUI infractions in one year. Her mom was a cashier at the Salvation Army.
After closing time, we stayed for an extra hour to clean and organize everything for the next day.
“Hey Boss, seriously, why don’t you have a girlfriend? You’re kind of cute.”
I’d been adapting to her flirty nature. I hardly blush anymore. I felt comfortable enough around her. I seldom felt intimidated by her candid and extroverted behavior. She was a little immature, but I thought her personality was natural and innocent. Everything she did, even wrong, seemed unintentional.
“I don’t know, Leticia, people can’t believe I never had a girlfriend in my life. They must think I’m gay. The fact of the matter is that I’ve been shy all my life. The only time I asked a girl out, a million years ago, she turned me down. I never asked any other girls again. I felt deeply embarrassed and hurt. The humiliation was so huge I didn’t come out of my room for a whole week.”
My dad came to my mind right away. I hadn’t realized how obvious it must have been for him to think I was gay.
“I think that’s cute boss, I’ve never met a guy as shy as you in my life. Most guys I know are pushy, and they can’t take no for an answer. I wish I were that girl that said no to you. I would have said yes, and stayed the whole week in the room with you.”
“That’s nice Leticia, but when that happened, you were probably in your mom’s womb.”
My dad offered 130,000 dollars to Ana Suarez for her house, but she refused. She was a retired teacher. Her estranged daughter lived in Arizona. After they discovered the affair between my dad and Ana Suarez, her husband left her. A few months later, her daughter moved away too. She has lived by herself since then. I’ve never seen her at the shop. She was either a vegetarian or bought her meat elsewhere.
I made another offer for her house for 160,000 dollars. She turned it down too. She said that she would burn the house instead of pleasing grandma. She said she lost her husband and her daughter, but she would never lose her house. She also said grandma didn’t know how to make a man happy, so he looked someplace else.
What a sad old lady. Still embittered by events that happened years ago. But I bet grandma felt the same way.
I wanted to surprise grandma, but instead, I gave her the bad news and told her everything Mrs. Suarez said.
My grandma was enraged. She carried a notepad with her at all times to write messages. She wrote she would be happy when that old bitch died. And that if she were younger, she would gladly kill her.
That gave me an idea.
The house of Ana Suarez was adjacent to the back of our home. Throughout the years, there had been a few disputes or incidents involving Mrs. Suarez and grandma. One day, a dead rat appeared in our backyard. My grandma suspected that Mrs. Suarez had thrown it over the wooden fence, so she threw it back. The next day, it showed up in our yard again. It went back and forth for a whole week until I put it in the trash.
On another occasion, a branch from one of our old trees fell on her patio. The following day, that branch and other branches that were not part of our tree appeared in our backyard. And then, she demanded that we fix the fence.
Sometimes, I would hear the two old ladies grumble at each other, exchanging unintelligible insults over the fence as they tended their yards. Their anger and bitterness, instead of disappearing with time, kept increasing with their infantile behavior.
One day, I removed three wood boards from the fence and left them loosely hanging against it so, when the opportunity came, I could remove them quickly. I planned to kidnap Ana Suarez from her backyard as she put her clothes on the clothesline, or while tending to her tomato plants. I could grab her from behind and drag her to the shop.
When I told grandma about my plans, she nodded and smiled morbidly.
Grandma knew about my dad and the thief, which made her an accomplice to my crimes, but I didn’t know she could be so evil.
Days later, I found the perfect opportunity. As Mrs. Suarez was hanging her clothes near the fence, I grabbed her from behind. I bet she almost had a heart attack. I covered her mouth and lifted her body. She was light as a feather, but she kept kicking like a mule. Grandma watched with a diabolical smile as she followed us in her squeaky wheelchair.
In the shop, I covered her mouth with duct tape and tied her up to a chair. My grandma was in front of her with a wicked smile on her face. I bet grandma wished we could keep her like that forever.
I used a rope to tie her head by her ponytail and tied the other end to the ceiling light. I wanted the back of her neck to be accessible for the next part of my plan. Then, I moved grandma aside and grabbed my sharp machete. In an instant, the head of Ana Suarez ended up swinging like a piñata in the middle of our shop. Grandma didn’t waste a second and hurried to steady her head, and said to her head: “P U T A” with a hideous, sneering smile.
My grandma was not only my accomplice but my willing partner too.
The following Saturday, my homeless friends had hamburgers again. I didn’t receive any compliments on that occasion. One of them even dared to complain, “It tastes like old meat, but thanks anyway.”
A few weeks later, Mrs. Suarez’s daughter showed up after someone reported her mom’s disappearance. Afterward, she put the house for sale. I offered her 120,000 dollars, and she accepted.
Visalia, CA. 09-23-2012
My dad killed his dad. I killed my dad. Should I have a son?
I’ve felt abnormally normal. I knew that was the result of two events that happened recently, the disappearance of my father and the appearance of Leticia. It was a satisfying and therapeutic pause to my prolonged mental suffering.
Even though, three people have died at my hands, I needed to clarify that I didn’t kill my dad. He died. I provoked his death. He was already dead when I cut him up. The murder of the thief wasn’t my fault at all. The murder of Ana Suarez had been grandma’s wish so, in that case we needed to share the blame 50/50.
My perverse thoughts were satisfied temporarily. The usual evil desire to kill people had faded a little bit, the desire to push people to incoming traffic. Or to stab them in their backs had decreased.
Since I was young, I had imagined how easy it would be to kill anyone. That feeling gave me an imaginary power. But I was sure it was all because I was envious to see other people happy.
For years, I had the same recurring dream. I was seven years old when a girl, maybe one year older than me, kept chasing me. She wanted to kiss me, but I was afraid and confused. I needed to get away from her and crawled under my bed, but she reached her goal and kissed me. After she went away, I stayed there until dark.
Since then, I’ve been having the same dream all my life. Since then, I felt secure in the shadows, where I felt anonymous and nobody paid attention to me.
I had a beautiful vision one day after closing the store while working at the cash register. I turned my head, and I saw Leticia standing on a stool cleaning the top of the refrigerator. She was wearing a short skirt, and I could see the entire magnitude of her beautiful long legs. She had a tiny pair of white underwear that didn’t cover the lower part of her butt cheeks.
She caught me watching her, but she didn’t cover herself. Instead, she smiled provocatively. I didn’t blush, which was in itself a miracle. I thought my traumas had disappeared.
But I still didn’t know how to handle the situation, I didn’t know how to approach her, and I wanted to have her. I knew she was tempting me. She was a snake offering an apple.
My desire for her had turned abnormal, I had to have her. The desire was so overpowering, I didn’t consider that if she refused me I was going to run and hide under my bed. I didn’t know how to initiate a romantic relationship, my intentions were purely sexual. But rape should be out of the question. Unless . . .
I grabbed her by the waist and brought her down. I ripped her panties, spit on my hand, and rubbed her clitoris for two seconds. Then, I penetrated her. I covered her mouth with my hand just in case. After I noticed how excited she was, I removed my hand from her mouth.
I was horny as hell, and so was she. I never had to force her. It appeared that the ‘brutal rape’ had turned into a fantasy for her. She was now taking the lead. She was more experienced than I was. I felt a little disappointed, but I kept satisfying my prolonged sexual abstinence.
Then, she interrupted my thoughts and said, “You don’t have to worry, I’m on the pill.” The enchantment turned into deception. My Lolita fantasy faded away in a second.
We still had sex two more times.
During our heated sexual encounter, I thought I heard grandma’s wheelchair. Later, as I prepared dinner, grandma wrote on her notepad, “I knew your dad was wrong.” as she handed me the note. I noticed an approving smile on her face.
Love had always been a distant foreign affair for me. Even friendship and affection were unknown to me. Leticia was altering emotions I didn’t know I had. I was getting a chance of experiencing a regular life.
I had lost an entire decade of my life, most of my twenties. I didn’t know where all those years went. I wished I had met Leticia a dozen years earlier.
One night, she convinced me to go to the movies with her. She was sixteen years old, but she looked older. I was thirty-three years old, but I looked younger. That was my first date. How absurd was that? I wasn’t breaking the law by going out with her, but if they’d found out I was having sex with her, they’d put me in jail for sure.
I felt strange having to ask her mom for permission to go to the movies after having sex for over two months.
The following week, she asked me out again.
We went to see a new band. The place was loud and crowded. I was having a decent time until Leticia went to the restroom. Then, I saw her talking to a guy, probably four or five years older than her. I didn’t see her again until the next day at the shop.
In the morning, she appeared with a couple of hickeys on her neck. I always thought that to be the lowest of all vulgarities.
I had a hunch that guys like me couldn’t be so lucky for a long time.
After a short discussion that took place inside my head, I decided what her fate would be.
That morning, when I greeted her, she said, “I’m pregnant, and I’m sure it’s yours. I lied to you when I said I was on the pill. You’re the only one that I allow to have sex with without wearing a condom,” she added, “I’m telling you this because I don’t want to hear any sermons. Last night I took off with an old boyfriend of mine. I don’t need to give any explanations. After all, we’re not in a relationship or anything.”
I just shrugged and said, “It’s alright, never mind about last night. But if you’re pregnant, what are you planning to do with the baby?”
“You can marry me, and we can have the child, or you can fire me and never see the child,” she said.
Her sudden illogical arguments had my head spinning.
“What a drastic change, Leticia. I don’t understand why you’re acting this way. I know there’s no love between us, but I thought that we were at least friends. I don’t want to be a father, I’m not ready for that, and I don’t think you’re ready to get married or to have a child either. You can do whatever you want with your life and with your child. Whatever this thing was, is over.”
“What do you mean by that?” she replied, “Are you erasing me from your life, are you? Forgive me. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to defend myself before you started to attack me. I know I shouldn’t have gone with anybody else and left you there. I apologize for that,” and then she added, “When they deported my dad, I was thirteen years old. Since then, I’ve been doing whatever I pleased with my life. I’ve never been a nice girl, but I was trying hard to be one for you. I know you didn’t do anything wrong. Please forgive me.” She sounded regretful, but I doubted her sincerity.
“All right, forget the whole thing. We need to open the store.” and with that sentence, she probably thought everything was back to normal.
The rest of the day, my pseudo-nymphet had what appeared to be a regular day. The minute we closed, Leticia was out of her clothes and going down on me. I was fighting my excitement. I couldn’t help but think she was doing the same thing to another guy the night before. And that the same guy had been biting her neck like a vulgar vampire. I almost refused her, but by then, I was enjoying it too much.
Just when I thought I was finally regenerated, just when I thought my salvation had arrived, she betrayed me.
I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. My mind was struggling.
I was inside her, but my mind was somewhere else. I felt a rush of rage invading my body. I was raping her. That was my intention, but it bothered me that she was on the brink of another orgasm. I grabbed her by the neck and started squeezing it with all my strength, and the harder I tighten my grip, the harder I continued to bump her.
I guess that wasn’t a terrible way to die, having an orgasm during her last breath. Perhaps she thought it was a joke or just a temporary punishment.
When I killed my dad, I didn’t see his eyes the precise instant when he died. But when Leticia died, I saw her soul leaving her body. I saw terror and pain in her eyes.
The following day, Leticia’s mom came to the store looking for her because she didn’t spend the night at home. I told her she didn’t show up to work either and that she had asked me for eight hundred dollars in advance the day before. I told her Leticia had mentioned her plans to go to Las Vegas or Hollywood to look for fame and fortune. Her mom said she had heard about that too, and then she lowered her shoulders in defeat and went away.
On Saturday, three persons in the park mentioned how good the hamburgers were. I didn’t taste them, but I saved two portions of meat for grandma and me.
Grandma had excellent table manners. She was always boasting about her European ancestry and the superiority of French cuisine. That night, I used a fancy French recipe. The main ingredient was lamb. But instead, I used Leticia’s breasts, one for grandma and one for me.
The plate looked impressive. The breasts looked proud and pompous. My grandma knew Leticia had been missing for two days but never inquired about her. When I served her plate, she immediately asked, “Leticia?” as she pointed to the plate. I assented, and she proceeded with delicacy and finesse to handle the utensils. She even looked a little comical.
After she finished, she wrote on her pad: “Too bad they only come with two of them.”