Justifiably Chilling

     It was the end of November, no actually I think it was the beginning of December, but I suppose what does it matter, because the fact still remained that it was cold and I wanted ice cream. Don’t ask me why. Did I really need a reason? I'm human. I'm young. I'm foolish. I'm blond. I'm hungry. Pick one, pick all, pick none, just move on because it’s terribly cold outside and people are waiting to know why I did it.  I swear the answer won’t blow your mind, but nonetheless you still deserve to know.

    So I was walking down the street, minding my own business, searching for an ice cream stand. To my surprise, there weren’t many people outside, but I suppose the temperature was below ten degrees, or maybe slightly above fifteen, well whatever, I could see my breath in front of my face so it was bloody cold out. Nevertheless, I plunged my way through the snow covered pavement until I found an ice cream stand open. Why would anyone be selling ice cream in the dead of winter? How the hell am I supposed to know, but hey better believer that I was ecstatic. There weren’t that many people in line, an old man, a young mother, and her small daughter.  I couldn’t help the smile that inched across my face, I would return home in a matter of minutes, ice cream in hand and the world underneath my feet. Maybe that’s where I went wrong—thinking like that is dangerous you know? But I’m getting ahead of myself here, where were we? Oh yes, the ice cream stand.

    I don’t know if it was the way the man talked, or how slowly he was moving, but everything within me wanted to reach out and strangle him. He was elderly, granted, but not too elderly to reach his damn hand out a little faster than the speed of a cockeyed pigeon. Listen to me—did that make even the slightest bit of sense? Oh well, the point is, I wanted that old man dead.  I didn’t kill him though, age would surely do that job soon enough. Five thousand years later the old man was gone, and then it was the woman’s turn.

    She, if I were given the chance, might have been my second victim. Persistent little bird she was, wanting only the best for the sweet little demon at her right hand side.

    I’ll never forget her squawking as she asked, “Does any of your ice cream contain peanut oil?”

    The young ice cream seller looked slightly baffled, but shook his head with certainty. “No ma’am I can’t say it does.”

    “Are you sure about that? My daughter is allergic, and if she even has the tiniest taste of peanut she’ll surely fill up like a hot air balloon until she bursts!”

    “I assure you ma’am we do not use any kind of peanut solutions in our ice cream.”

    “Well how can you be sure?”

    I’m dreadfully sorry, but that’s all I can remember form that conversation. You see I had drowned the rest of it out, because at this point I was too busy thinking of all the ways she could spontaneously die. The most fitting thought being her choking on her own words. It didn’t happen of course, but a fellow can dream can’t he?

    The woman and her child were gone, only after a million more questions were asked, and finally I was the only one left. I proudly advanced to the ice cream seller, giving him the best smile I could muster.

    “Can I help you sir?”

    “Why yes you can kind fellow. I would like you to hold still while I drive this knife into your chest.”

    He was a good boy, I might add. He didn’t move not one inch as I repeatedly stabbed him to death. Not one thing could interrupt me, nor the growing crowd I was attracting, not the approaching sirens in the distance, not evens the one man who tried to stop me. But I guess none of this tells you why I killed him, now does it? As I have said before the answer isn’t mind blowing, I just didn’t want ice cream anymore.