Read Online Duncan's Diary by Christopher C. Payne - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher C. Payne
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autistic. The challenges that she faced on her own as a single parent were immense. What a pair the two of us made that evening. I did manage to get out of her that she loved to run, had joined a running club, and up until a couple of weeks ago ran almost every day. The only thing stopping her was a pull in her right thigh muscle that was not allowing her to go full speed, so her running had become limited. She was hoping the injury was short lived, and she would soon be back to her routine.
Between dinner and our pathetic attempt at a conversation, the evening inched along. Finally, we found ourselves at the end of our meal. After paying the check, we started the stroll back to our cars. She had parked relatively close to the garage, but above ground, so we walked together. We arrived at her car first, and I asked her if she would mind driving me into the garage a few blocks away to my SUV. She reluctantly said okay, but it was easy to see that she did not want the evening continuing much further.
As we were driving, I eased my right hand into my front pants pocket and felt the rag I had doused with chloroform in its plastic bag. It was fairly simple sliding the Ziploc seal and removing the rag out of my pocket and holding it between the door and the seat. I was beginning to feel the nervous anticipation of actually making the next move. There was no going back now. A turning point in my life was very quickly approaching. It would be the end of who I was--my rebirth into somebody I did not know but was dying to explore.
There was a parking spot right next to mine, and she pulled in slowly. She was a careful person, a careful driver, and very reserved. As she inched forward I casually readied the rag in my right hand. She put her Volvo (ironic we both drove Volvos) into park as I scanned the surroundings, ensuring nobody was near.
I forcefully placed the rag over her mouth and nose. I used my left hand to hold down her upper torso by her neck. The move was precise and very quick. Unfortunately, I had underestimated her strength. As she fought back, she scratched my left cheek, flailing wildly with her arms in all directions. At one point, she hit the windshield wiper lever, starting them in a frantic motion. Our interaction of pushing and flailing went on for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was less than 30 seconds. It was still much too long for something of this nature. She slowly subdued and fell into a restless slumber. I, again, looked around to see if anyone had witnessed our interaction.
Unfortunately, there were three long fingernail scratches across my left cheek that would take a while to heal. Chloroform fumes were filling the car, and it was starting to smell. I would have to do something about the vehicle—my DNA and hair was everywhere. It seems as though it is getting harder in today’s society to have any fun doing anything. I also made a mental note that getting into shape would have to be a priority. I was now 41, and I would need to ensure that I had physical advantage over anyone that participated in my new game. It was one thing to look good, but I would need strength, as well.
I got out of the passenger seat of her car, opened the back seat of my SUV, and went around the back to pick her up. I slowly grabbed her under her shoulders by both arms and heaved her out of her car. I pulled her toward my open door. Her feet scraped the ground as I dragged her the few feet, and she lost one shoe in the process. I picked it up, placed it in the back of the SUV, and moved into the back seat. I tied her arms and legs quickly (I would have to stop later and do a more thorough job) and placed a piece of duct tape over her mouth. Isn’t it odd how useful duct tape is? If you are ever in doubt of what kind of tape to use, duct tape always works. I wonder who invented duct tape and if they still receive some kind of royalty every time it is sold? I doubt it. As with most things, the company the person
Between dinner and our pathetic attempt at a conversation, the evening inched along. Finally, we found ourselves at the end of our meal. After paying the check, we started the stroll back to our cars. She had parked relatively close to the garage, but above ground, so we walked together. We arrived at her car first, and I asked her if she would mind driving me into the garage a few blocks away to my SUV. She reluctantly said okay, but it was easy to see that she did not want the evening continuing much further.
As we were driving, I eased my right hand into my front pants pocket and felt the rag I had doused with chloroform in its plastic bag. It was fairly simple sliding the Ziploc seal and removing the rag out of my pocket and holding it between the door and the seat. I was beginning to feel the nervous anticipation of actually making the next move. There was no going back now. A turning point in my life was very quickly approaching. It would be the end of who I was--my rebirth into somebody I did not know but was dying to explore.
There was a parking spot right next to mine, and she pulled in slowly. She was a careful person, a careful driver, and very reserved. As she inched forward I casually readied the rag in my right hand. She put her Volvo (ironic we both drove Volvos) into park as I scanned the surroundings, ensuring nobody was near.
I forcefully placed the rag over her mouth and nose. I used my left hand to hold down her upper torso by her neck. The move was precise and very quick. Unfortunately, I had underestimated her strength. As she fought back, she scratched my left cheek, flailing wildly with her arms in all directions. At one point, she hit the windshield wiper lever, starting them in a frantic motion. Our interaction of pushing and flailing went on for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was less than 30 seconds. It was still much too long for something of this nature. She slowly subdued and fell into a restless slumber. I, again, looked around to see if anyone had witnessed our interaction.
Unfortunately, there were three long fingernail scratches across my left cheek that would take a while to heal. Chloroform fumes were filling the car, and it was starting to smell. I would have to do something about the vehicle—my DNA and hair was everywhere. It seems as though it is getting harder in today’s society to have any fun doing anything. I also made a mental note that getting into shape would have to be a priority. I was now 41, and I would need to ensure that I had physical advantage over anyone that participated in my new game. It was one thing to look good, but I would need strength, as well.
I got out of the passenger seat of her car, opened the back seat of my SUV, and went around the back to pick her up. I slowly grabbed her under her shoulders by both arms and heaved her out of her car. I pulled her toward my open door. Her feet scraped the ground as I dragged her the few feet, and she lost one shoe in the process. I picked it up, placed it in the back of the SUV, and moved into the back seat. I tied her arms and legs quickly (I would have to stop later and do a more thorough job) and placed a piece of duct tape over her mouth. Isn’t it odd how useful duct tape is? If you are ever in doubt of what kind of tape to use, duct tape always works. I wonder who invented duct tape and if they still receive some kind of royalty every time it is sold? I doubt it. As with most things, the company the person
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