THE REPLACEMENT: By Andrew Polewarczyk
Monday, September 28th, 2009If distance makes the heart grow fonder, it also makes the mind go madder and the eyes dim darker. Kimberly had promised that the distance would only strengthen their relationship. He had even helped her family pack the moving van. Stupid. But when she called months and miles later, the distance had made her heart grow fonder- for another guy. Justin wasn’t used to hearing no.
He was the varsity quarterback, captain of the basketball team, class president and National Honors society to boot; no one told Justin what he could and could not have. Even Kimberly’s former best friend, Susan, tried to comfort him, tried to satisfy his desires. And he was satisfied, for about the length of time it took for the light to drain from her eyes and the lithe body beneath him to cease breathing. He continued his copulations anyways; why waste a warm body.
He sent Kimberly letters. He wrote her romance and lust, he wrote her begging and mailed away his tears. For as each letter went unanswered so too was the light in another girl’s eyes extinguished. Another night spent cradling death in his arms.
At first he was careful, painstakingly cautious, with each rendezvous, even then the police soon knew. But he was class president, soon to be salutatorian, had brought his school two championships last year. And so the police chief brought him, sat him down, the big man did a lot of hemming and a lot of hawing. In the end, Justin was told that part of growing up was learning not to shit where one eats, and after a few nods of understanding, was pat on the head and sent on his way. Small towns know how to take care of their own.
Justin shakes the reminiscings from his mind. What matters most, all that matters, is that he’s here on this fire escape outside Kimberly’s window, in the city where she lives. He’s been here for a while now, at least since the sun went down. She’s as resplendent as he remembers and he’s fallen in love all over again. He’s observed her on the phone, eating dinner and changing. He’s even got to take the measure of his so called “Replacement.” Pleasured himself while watching her go down on him- pretending, remembering when that was him laying there.
He can find very little to like in this new man of her, not even that they resemble each other. Justin finds comfort only in that, as his Replacement opens the door to leave, his demise will bring another small moment of satisfaction.
Justin follows his Replacement from what he judges to be an adequate distance to avoid drawing attention but it is an effort on the crowded city sidewalks. He’s not used to being so exposed when stalking his prey. Justin sees him turn down a secluded alleyway he passed earlier. He fingers the switchblade in his pocket itchingly. As he closes in, Justin wonders if his Replacement will wet himself as have the others.
Approaching the corner, someone bumps hard into Justin, almost knocking him off his feet. Before he can regain his composure the stranger has already disappeared into the crowd of people rushing past. Dusting himself off, he prowls around the corner, the street lamps casting irregular shadows to navigate by.
After a hundred feet Justin reaches the brick-wall ending; he can go no further yet his prey is nowhere to be found. He reverses direction, content to continue the chase another day, but is stopped dead in his tracks. His Replacement stands at the entrance to the alleyway, arms crossed in contemplation.
The Replacement takes a few swaggering steps forward, “So this is the country mouse I’ve read so much about.” His lips cut a sardonic smile and his eyes, Justin knows those eyes. They’re predator’s eyes. Justin fumbles in his pocket for the switchblade. His Replacement unfolds his arms and opening both palms reveals Justin’s switchblade, picked from his pocket only moments before.
The blade shnicks forward, the glint of metal in the street light, “Let me show you how we city-slickers do things around here. Don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow, one piece at a time.”
©2009 Andrew Polewarczyk
Andrew Polewarczyk is from Worcester, MA. He has been writing for the past few years and draws story ideas from the rich New England scenery. Although he enjoys writing in different genres from time to time, horror is his first and true love.
