Him.
 
            He was perfect. His hair short and dark, eyes empty almost, and skin pale. He seemed shorter than me, but I liked that. By the way he carried himself I could tell he was shy, self-conscious, lonely, things I have been too. In a way, I was drawn to him when I saw him and wanted to ignore the part of me that yearned for him. Though he was too perfect to pass up, as he didn’t break rule 12 for he was clearly older than 15 and he passed rule 13 because he was much younger than 67. If I was to guess I would say he was in his late teens early twenties. It was this moment when I first laid eyes on him on campus, I knew he was perfect.
 
             I was too nervous to approach the guy though, but I made a note of where I saw him: Thursday 11:43am leaving Carmen lecture hall. The note served as a reminder for when I was confident enough to make progress with him. I had to write it down out of fear of forgetting, my memory was never the best. Though I knew I would remember to be back next Thursday to find him again, for now I would retreat and plan ahead for that day, I am not good at improvisation. I like having my ideas outlined; it helps me be more confident in my actions. 
 
             By the time Thursday rolled around, I wasn’t ready to converse with him yet, but I still went if only to see him. I arrived at 9:29am sharp as I found that most classes on this campus tend to be two hours long. This way I was able to find out more about the guy through the classes I found him taking. 
 
             He didn’t arrive for several minutes. I almost gave up hope on him arriving at all, I’m impatient, but by 9:47 he was rushing toward the Carmen lecture hall and I followed hot on his tail. He entered room 148, the one that was given by Victor Adams. I didn’t dare follow him into the classroom, I was too nervous. Though those nerves didn’t stop me from grabbing someone in the hallway and asking them what class took place in that room.
 
             “Psychology,” she told me.
             “Thank you,” psychology… interesting… it was almost perfect. I always did find psychology fascinating; he truly is ideal for me. 
 
            I would follow him for several weeks after that. I found his name to be Derek from one of his friends when I overheard them talking at lunch. I even sat in during a few of his classes, but I didn’t dare speak with him directly. I only watch from a distance; it was safer that way. I believe it to be the confidence that I gained from following him these past weeks that led me here. Finally, I was following him off campus. I usually only kept an eye on him during the school day and gave up when he went home or wherever he was headed now, but not today. Maybe it was a false sense of courage that dared me to do it, but I wasn’t ready to back down for the day. No, I need to see him if only for a little longer.
 
            He led me to his apartment. It was off campus, so I am guessing he is an upperclassman. Possibly even one to come from a wealthy family as I had yet to find any evidence that pointed to him working a job. So, I believe it to be his parents that pay for the place, not him. Though I hope he’s not close to his family as it would break rule 27. But rule 27 wasn’t my biggest worry, if anything it was rule 5 that his dear friends just might be breaking.
            
             Eventually one day I was brave and I did not wait on campus for Derek, but instead outside his apartment. I waited until he left. Derek exited at 9:31 and then I waited a little longer. I was nervous, excited, had a pit in my stomach, I wasn’t going to enter his place. I wasn’t one to invade another’s privacy. I just needed to do a little research. I waited until 10:34, I spent most of the time on my phone, then he arrived. The one I was waiting so long for, the mail man. He walked towards Derek’s apartment with letters in his hand, but I stopped him before he reached the door.
 
             “Is that for Derek Wyberry?” I asked.
             “Yes, and you are?”
             “His significant other,” I reassured him quickly. “He is out, I’m waiting for him to get home. I left my keys inside.”
             “Here,” he said, not asking anymore follow up questions. “And do you think you can sign for him?”
             “Sure can,” I took the pen and wrote Peyton Kits, it was a fake name obviously. I’m not stupid or crazy.
             “Have a good day.”
             “You too!” I called trying to keep up the cheery attitude, before letting my smile fall and rifling through the letters that he just handed me. 
            
             One was from a Jenna Wyberry, another from an Oliver Finch, and the rest seemed to be junk. I left the magazines and what seemed to be the physical embodiment of spam by his door before pocketing Jenna’s and Oliver’s letters and heading back to my own apartment.
            
             Once I was in the safety of my home away from prying eyes, I peeled the letters open and discarded the envelopes on the floor. Jenna’s letter only had a check in it for fifteen hundred dollars. There was no note, it was simply addressed to Derek Wyberry from Jenna Wyberry. It was from family; I’m assuming his mother and the lack of a note made it impersonal. There mustn’t have been a strong relationship between Derek and his mother from what I was able to tell. It was nice, I liked the lack of a letter. It meant Derek didn’t break rule 27. The letter from Oliver wasn’t anything special either. It was simply a postcard and a quick note that read as such; “Miss ya Der. See ya next year!” It, like Jenna’s letter, was impersonal. The mail showed the lack of Derek’s close relationships.
 
             After my investigation of both letters, I turned back to the discarded envelopes and fished some new ones from a drawer. I rewrote the information to the best of my abilities before shoving the letters into their corresponding envelopes and I drove back to Derek’s apartment with enough time to spare to get his mail home before his arrival. Even though Derek’s class had ended he would be spending time with his friends now before heading back to his apartment complex.
 
             After that day, I found the adventure of acquiring his mail easier and easier. I didn’t like to admit it, but I did find looking through his mail addicting. I wasn’t one to take away another’s privacy, but I couldn’t help it. I continued to see the checks Jenna sent and even started to look at the magazines that Derek had subscribed too, but I never did find another message from Oliver. He seemed to not care enough to send another. Though even with Derek’s limited mail, I was able to discover a story behind him and his personality of which I had yet to get a full taste. 
 
            It felt like I was starting to get to know him. As I learned more about Derek’s interests, I found myself becoming more confident in finally having a real interaction with him. I actually planned on how I would introduce myself, as I found none of his friends took class with him and he didn’t have a common seat buddy during the lectures so I decided that the best way to morph into his life was by taking that seat that was often claimed by randoms. 
 
             “Hi,” I said as I turned to him. I set my laptop down next to his and he turned to me and smiled.
             “You new?”
             “No, I normally sit in the back,” it wasn’t a lie, when I sat in during the class, I would always take a back seat to go unnoticed. 
             “Cool,” that was it, the conversation ended and the lecture started. Most students were taking notes like Derek, but some were gaming or seeking a break from their boredom by searching the internet randomly.
 
            I would continue to sit through Derek’s psychology classes with him. I found a permanent seat next to Derek and even found myself conversing with him before every lecture. I dare say that we were what one would call friends, it was nice in some ways. I didn’t have much experience with friends and Derek was a nice stand in for one at the moment. Part of me developed a small form of sympathy for him and yet it wasn’t enough to make me change my actions. If anything, this sense of friendship I had with Derek fueled my interest in him even more.
 
             It was the eleventh day of us sitting together in class that Derek asked if I wanted to go to lunch with some of his friends after class. I, of course, accepted. I had nothing better to do and found that being able to meet his friends would reveal to me whether Derek violated rule 5 or not.
 
             Derek’s friends were not like him. They were the way I imagined college students to act and Derek seemed far too quiet to sincerely get along with them. In a way it made me feel sorry for him, though at the same time it gave me a sense of gratitude. These so-called ‘friends’ Derek has only supported my sense of the righteousness of the actions that I was planning. As I was truly doing the guy a favor by saving him from his misery.
 
             It was also thanks to these hangouts Derek invited me to that I was able to find out more about his schedule. It gave me a chance to investigate his life further without drawing suspicion. It was actually a week after Derek’s original invitation that I found myself in his house. Of course, I was in there by myself. Derek was out with his friends like he always was Saturday night, so I was given the freedom to explore deeper into his life. 
 
             Derek’s apartment was nothing special. It was bland, void of any family photos and photos of friends. The walls were bare, naked and showed the vulnerability of Derek’s soft underside. He kept bleach under the sink and had never left his hamper overflowing with dirty clothes, the majority of clothes were sweats and tee shirts. The bathroom though was the most important room to me. It was the only room that intrigued me in the slightest as on the counter there was a bottle of pills. 200mg of Zoloft to be exact, I really was doing the guy a favor.
 
             The deep dive into Derek’s apartment also reassured me rule 17 was not going to be broken. Rule 17 was one of the most important rules to me. It made sure no one would get hurt. Derek’s lack of friends and family relations showed me that no one would be traumatized. I didn’t want to hurt others, I wasn’t crazy. I don’t want to bring anyone trauma, I couldn't go through with my plan if it did. Luckily it didn’t seem that rule 17 would be violated in any way, so I could continue with my plan.
 
             I would spend the next three weeks memorizing Derek’s apartment. Mapping out a plan in my mind of the most effective route in and out. Where the creaky floorboards were and just how sensitive the downstairs neighbors were to sound. A part of me was thinking of getting this over with quickly, possibly slipping something into his pill bottles and pretending nothing happened. And yet, another part of me wanted to savor the moment. Wanted to see how long I could drag it out and it was that part that stopped me from slipping him something quickly.
 
             I still do remember the day I showed up at his house when he was there. I had a bag pulled over my shoulder for school. When he answered the door, he looked shocked and disheveled, but quickly shifted his expression.
 
             “What are you doing here, Alex?” He addressed me by the fake name I gave him. I smiled.
             “Some of your friends told me you lived here and I was hoping you could help me study for the upcoming final?”
             “Of course,” He stepped aside to let me in and said he needed a second to get changed. I wonder if he knew what was going to happen if he would have picked his outfit out differently. If he would be scared or not.
            
             I took that moment though not to digress onto meaningless thoughts, but to unpack my bag. I grabbed the handle of the axe as it fell into my palm with a comforting weight. And I waited for his return in the hallway.
 
             I still remember the look on his face. As he walked out of his bedroom, and yet I couldn’t decipher the emotion he was displaying. Was it shock, hatred, fear? Though I would not let myself get preoccupied with his feelings - I have to admit I wondered what a psycho would feel in this moment. Maybe sexual pleasure, blood lust, immense fear? But I wouldn’t know, I’m not psychotic. I felt nothing except for a deep seeded satisfaction that bloomed seemingly behind my rib cage, I felt sane…
 
             Killing Derek was easy, it was one of the easiest things I had ever done. And in some ways he should be thanking me, now he wouldn’t have to kill himself, I could save him the trouble. It perfectly followed rule 8.

            After I finished, I went for the bleach under the counter. I made sure he had it last time I visited his place. I ended up using all of Derek’s paper towels and would switch to his reusable washcloths. I hoped he wouldn’t mind me dirtying them. The apartment stank of bleach and the floors seemed to have slight discoloration, but it was fine. The floors wouldn’t be given much use for a while anyways. 
 
             One of the final steps that was necessary was fixing my clothing. I didn’t bring any extra with me, I didn’t need to, Derek would have some. The clothes were ill-fitting, but workable. I only needed to wear them for so long. 
 
             I was quickly able to stash everything into trash bags and even took Derek’s actual trash with me as well as a final favor for him. I dumped everything in a dumpster five blocks down next to a Chinese restaurant. I remembered Derek enjoys their food. And that was all I needed to do. I followed the last rule exactly. Rule 34, I cleaned up after myself as always and I didn’t get caught. Another project well done!
 
Rule 5 - Must not have any close friends
Rule 8 - Make sure you are doing them a favor
Rule 12 - Must be over 15.
Rule 13 - Must be younger than 67.
Rule 17 - Don’t cause bystanders trauma.
Rule 27 - Must not have any close family relationships.
Rule 34 - Clean up after yourself and don’t get caught.
 
 
Written by Margaret Charlton