Dear Vicky

by Octavia Grant

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer. And it’ll stop you from gawking like a lunatic,” Sasha, the cashier that I was bagging for, joked.

Sasha was sort of my best friend, or best friend with benefits should I say.

“Who the fuck is she talking too?” I asked myself as I watched her approach with the phone still pressed to her ear. Jealousy and anger instantly consumed me because I had no idea who had her smiling so hard. “Ok Mom. I’m walking up to the checkout now. I’ll call you later,”

“I see Mrs. Piedmont hasn’t changed,” She chuckled. “No, I’m not in your Anatomy and Physiology class. I graduated from Blakely Jones five years ago. But if you can decipher her adlibs and colloquialisms, you’ll be ok. I’m a better nurse because of her witticism. My name is Victoria, but everyone calls me Vicky,” Vicky said sweetly.

“How did I know your name? Let’s just say, I always do my research when it comes to a super cute guy. Y’all have a good day. See you later Andrew,” Vicky said as she patted my chest.

Sasha was my only true friend. Since she and Vicky were already acquainted, the only thing left to do was introduce Vicky to my family.

Whatttt

I had spent so much time online, on social media searching Vicky that my phone died before my shift was over.

Sasha was a beautiful buxom Latina woman.

Vicky’s salary was more than enough to support the two of us, while I finished school and found a higher paying job.

“Ma-” “Is Victoria black? If she is, is she a light skinned black or a dark skinned black?”

Her hatred for black women, especially those with dark skin, was just stupid.

My mother was the product of my grandmother’s rape by a white man.

“So, this Vicky bitch is a tar baby. A black bit-”

Woww ive never heard a colorist in real time this is sad

Before she could finish her degrading insult, I grabbed the 35-lb dumbbell and swung it at her head. “Don't you ever call Vicky that word!” I screamed as I raised the dumbbell over my head, bringing it down to mother’s face again and again and again.

have my associates of applied science in Psychology.

Well isnt thst..something

My mother died during childbirth so I never got a chance to meet her, but I'm sure she would have loved to meet you.

remembered that my mother’s nearly decapitated corpse was still on the living room floor.

“All your nosey ass had to do was mind your business.

When Vicky uploaded the pictures of her house, I did a Google image search of the house and got the exact address.

Vicky had left this key outside for me.

Hes crazy

her. I would have to talk to her about leaving the key outside. There were too many crazy and delusional people in the world.

No duhh

I had just given her the best oral experience of her life and she had the audacity to call me another man’s name.

Instead, I reached for the pillow to place over her face to smother the life out of her lying cheating ass.

Before Terrence could finish his sentence, I pulled out the decorative Bundt cake knife and repeatedly stabbed him directly in his neck.

can. If you need me to make calls or hang missing person posters, I’ll gladly do it.” Sasha said

Need to be with her honestly

“I'm Ivory Addison reporting live from the Marisol Wetlands.

She's been on the news, crying her poor eyes out. The FBI said they won't rest until they find the person that-”

More importantly, she should have told me that her husband was a fucking federal agent.

“The problem is a young lady reported a car similar to this one, with personalized plates that read, “Vick & Me” was reported fleeing the scene where her officer friend was murdered. On top of that-”

‘a young lady reported.’ I knew it wasn’t no one except that bitch Ashley.

Before he could finish his sentence, I ran the sharp blade of the hunting knife across Officer Warren’s thick jugular fat.

Dear Vicky,

Ever since Officer Warren forced my hand and made me slit his throat, an all-points bulletin was placed for an all-black Chevy Lumina. So, I painted the car red.

After reviewing his body cam footage, we can now confidently name the suspect. Police are looking for twenty-year-old Andrew Patterson of Citrus Grove.

Erotomania or Clerambault Syndrome is a form of delusional disorder when a person believes that another person is in love with him.

Oop

“What the fuck are you talking about Vicky? When you came through the line of my job, you specifically said ‘I’ll see you later’. Rubbing on my chest. Smiling in my face. We love each other, right?”

Hes crazyy

“Dear Vicky,