Woman's Work: Jailhouse Confessions

The national news made a note of all the men who mysteriously disappeared from the area around my town, but they only new of 7 and I had killed 8. No one cared about Ted, and no one had looked for him. As I watched the news broadcast about the mysterious disappearances all I could do was smile as a picture of the 6 men were presented on the television screen. The garbage had been taken care of, but it was by no means gone.

Number nine was pretty easy compared to some. It reminds me of Michele. I was cleaning up the yard on my day off from the gas station. Bill came by, he stayed and talked awhile and asked if I wanted to go out some time. I think that Bill would have been about 25 – 30 years old, much too old to be hitting on an 18 year old girl. He was garbage. I smiled coyly, and told him to come around at about midnight, by foot and we could go some where and talk.

At midnight I hear a knock on the door. Bill is standing there hands in his pockets. I suggest we walk to an old well that I know. Bill was happy to go along with me. Once there I walked around the well as he stood still. I had my noose in my pocket. I put it around his neck. He fought back pushing me, struggling to get the rope off his neck. After getting up off the ground where he pushed me I pushed him into the well. I could hear him scream. I don't think he died when he hit the bottom of the well, I could still hear him moaning. Afraid that someone would go by and hear him I started throwing logs from the woods down onto him. After about five I quit I figured it was good enough. I do not know how long it took him to die nor do I really care.

I found it exhilarating to have someone fight back. It felt like I was doing the right thing, that the guy knew he was garbage but did not want to be taken out. I could not believe how great it felt as I walked away from the well. It felt like my body was alive. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. Just thinking about how I finished Bill off always makes me feel alive and . . . I can't really but it into words how it makes me feel.

It was kind of funny how everything got easier after numbers eight and nine. I had weeded out some of the garbage, but even more than that I had learned how to perfect my act. I had learned what it took to make me feel alive. I knew finally that I was doing Gods work for him.

I was still eighteen when I killed Jon. I killed him behind the gas station in an old building that was no longer used. It took me two days to get his body to the well as he was a very big guy. He did break my arm in his struggles, but I succeeded in winning. When I went to the hospital I told them that I had fell while walking home. No one doubted me. When you have an innocent appearance no one thinks anything bad about you they all just assume that you are a sweet innocent young lady. It makes me laugh even now when I think about it. Jon was the obvious type of garbage. I was checking the expiration dates on the snack foods when he came in. After he slapped my ass I knew exactly who number 10 would be. Men are much too easy to lead to their deaths. All I had to do was smile as I stood up after he slapped my ass and tell him to meet me out back in a half hour. I did have to get rid of his truck but I just checked his address and left it a half block from his house, in the middle of the night, with the keys in the ignition. So that people would just assume that some kids had taken it joy-riding. And if I got lucky some kids really would take it joy-riding.

After Jon I started getting over confident in my abilities to kill the men secretly. Tom was my down fall. I didn't know at the time that I chose killed him that he would fight back so hard. I had only killed Jon a month before this so my arm still was not fully healed. Tom fought like the devil was after him, not a messenger of God. The voices were encouraging me to keep fighting, that he knew too much. I killed Tom in an alley late in the evening in the industrial area. Once I finally had killed him I realized that we were too far from my house for me to get him there that evening. I hid him behind a dumpster.

What I didn't know was that the garbage company came by the next day. They found Tom's body early the next morning. It was plastered all over the news. I became scared at first, but then the voices told me that there was no way for anyone to know that it was me.

Three nights after the finding of Tom's body it was on the news that who ever had killed Tom was also a suspect in the disappearance of Jon Oswald, do to finger print analysis found in the truck of Jon's and on Tom's body.

The cops came by the gas station and asked for finger prints. I could not figure out a way to tell them no with out forcing their suspicions my way. My voices were quiet they had left me in my moment of greatest need. I gave the cops my prints, knowing that by the next morning they would know it was me that had killed them both.

I was wrong it did not take them until morning it was late that evening that I heard the car pull into the drive way. Looking out the window I saw two police officers approaching my house. Leaving through my back window I ran across the street. I could hear them shouting at me to stop. I ran to the well. When the cops caught up with me I was standing on the edge. I remember looking at them and telling them that before I would go to jail I would rather go to Heaven. I left into the well with the ten corpses. The police called for back up and assistance to get a suspect out of a well. I broke my leg in the fall but nothing else than what was already broken by the men.

The stench in the well was horrendous. I realized that the reason it did not smell as bad from up above was that the well was so deep that it took a while for the smell to get that high and mostly it dissipated before it got there.

They cops who finally got me out of the well were disgusted. As they wheeled me past Mrs. Johnson's house she asked me if I was responsible for Michele's disappearance. I smiled and told her that Michele had never been to far from her.

I made the National news; they called me a zealot jezebel. How little they truly know. You may be wondering if I have ever regretted killing any of the men. Honestly, the only men that I ever felt any remorse over lasted less than a minute, Michele and Tim, but they were just garbage and needed to be disposed of.

So, now you know my story, how I meticulously got rid of human garbage from the earth, how I killed eleven men and put them into a well.