You Killed Me First

by John Marrs

‘What? Why? What did I do to you?’ The laugh is short and cuts like a blade. ‘I’ll tell you what you did. You killed me first.’

She’s made me understand that it’s not myself I need to kill.

Genius Bar? No. Acne-ridden virgin bar is a more accurate description.

You’re not Justin Bieber, Drew.

turned against me quicker than you can say Amber Heard.

Somewhere out there is a street corner waiting patiently for its hooker to return.

Because Margot has always been the final name on my kill list.

‘Because she is a fucking sociopath and I am your brother.’

‘I’ve never been asked for advice on where to bury myself.’ Again, I can’t argue with that either. Because Drew is dead, and has been since the early hours of the morning after Bonfire Night.

There are no hard and fast rules on how to proceed after discovering your sociopathic lover’s psychopathic serial-killing sister was responsible for destroying years of your life.

Keep your friends close and Margot closer.

Honestly, I can’t recommend these cameras enough, they’re a great investment. Much like my studio.’

I remember wishing Margot luck, because no matter what she might’ve convinced herself was going to happen, Brandon would always be in my bed, not hers.

The killer, the attempted murderer and the blackmailer.

She laughs long and hard and without any trace of humour. ‘You are unbelievable,’ she says. ‘Is that how you justify murdering me?’

If I’d known that back then, I wouldn’t have set fire to you. I’d have snatched Warren’s gun from his hand and shot you straight between the fucking eyes. I’d have made certain that I killed you first.