True Crime

She loved watching true crime documentaries and television series. It was her favorite pastime on a lazy day. She would invite her best friend over, they'd drink mimosas while eating fruit and cheese, and discuss the disturbing crimes they were learning about. They would talk about the red flags in changed behaviors between lovers, how they would protect themselves from perceived stalkers, and more importantly they would talk about the trail of evidence often left behind for investigators.

This lazy Saturday was like any other for her. She made a fresh pitcher of a mimosa, arranged the fruit and cheese platter, cued up the next true crime documentary she and her BFF agreed to watch together. When the doorbell to her apartment rang, she opened the door to allow her friend in. They hugged and greeted each other as they always did. They sat near one another on the long sofa, briefly discussed their work week, poured glasses of their mimosa, then began watching the documentary.

The two friends were talking as usual about the crime, red flags, the "if that were me" scenarios, etc., like any other day. They were so incredibly predictable. Nothing unusual at all. Finally, a commercial break. She can go use the bathroom to relieve herself of the glasses of mimosa she drank so far. As she walked back towards the couch, she saw her friend sitting comfortably and unaware of anything except the T.V. and what was on it.

As she sat back down, she looked at her friend and smiled. Her friend smiled back, but her smile looked different, crooked. The look in her eye was distant, as if she had more than a bit of champagne in her system. Perfect. Now that her friend was now falling into a certain incoherence, she could move forward with her plan. She picked up the cheese knife off the cheese board and stabbed her friend in the arm, stunning her. The friend screamed and looked at her in pure shock and fear, and tried to get up to run but her legs didn't work. The friend realized she had been drugged, but how? They both drank the mimosa from the pitcher. It was her glass. Her glass had been laced with something.

With the cheese knife still in hand, she proceeded to stab her friend a few more times to weaken her before grabbing the meat slicer knife she hid in between the couch cushions. As she raised the knife above her friend's chest, her friend asked her "why?" The friend had to know why this was happening, they had known each other for so long through so many life changes. She looked her friend in the face and said, "because I feel like it." It was that simple. She just felt like it...