She ordered a small tea and one of my famous biscuits- that’s all. But it meant a lot to me.

Under five pounds. Maybe two.

I couldn’t quite remember, I couldn’t quite grasp the situation entirely. God.

How did I not see it? How could I be so stupid.

The lack of wrinkles on her face which I thought were out of beauty- were actually dressed up as the devil in disguise. Her smile was robbing me blind.

The smoothed out dress she was wearing (which hugged her tight) made the facade even worse as it was plated with an black and white striped knitted cardigan. Making her seem.. innocent. Making her seem cute and vulnerable.

Yet, I look back and see it all clearly. Too clearly.

When she had dropped her favourite book on the floor and I had picked it up.- she had slipped my card.

When she talked to me while I was making my famous coffee she sank low on to the counter, looking mesmerised. She had let her friends slide through the back.

When she has stayed from 9am to 4pm she had been on her computer writing her endearing fantasy book. She had my layout open, creating and managing her orchestra, pulling lies out of the air like they were already elements that just had to be found.

She lied. She cheated. And in the end she didn’t even pay her own measly check.

As I slip my jacket on, I see the memories replaying in my head. Sliding and moving, replaying and replaying. The slight shove she gave mrs jawoski because she knew that horrid girl was up to something.

The look in her eyes, the shift in her hands behind her back and the look away. The look away because she knew what she was doing.

Bankruptcy and murder.

By bankrupting me, I do not survive.

As I lock up my once cosy, soft-spot-cafe, I find myself smiling. Giving it one more look of fatefulness that someday I will find something like this again.

But for now, I go home.

I burn my home. I splatter blood all over my “home”.

It took me 10 years to set up that cafe. My longest work ever.

To set up a life - totally new - that people don’t suspect anything. That people don’t know what goes on in the back. That people don’t know who I really am or what I have done. There is a reason, I don’t employ any other person. A reason I don’t get to close.

My business was going on perfectly, but she ruined it! She ruined it in one day! This was supposed to be the last one.

Calm down, stop hammering so hard.

But as I finish up the last of my “death” (poor Bob, his wife will have a surprise in the morning) and light my building in a violent, surging fire, I walk out, knowing I have to do it all again.

I guess I was ready to start again. To kill again. I guess it is time for the fun bit. Although, it is a shame that my new name is Bob. It’s just so boring.

However, I’ve got on the bus. Without any hesitation. I know she’s watching.

I will she her again. But this time I’m ready.

See you soon. Next time, it won’t be so easy.