*Beep* 

*Beep* 

*Beep*

I slam my hand down on my annoying alarm clock.  It is 5:30 am and I am so tired from last night.  I sit up in my old bed.  It creaks beneath me.  I groan.  Time to get up.

...

I take a sip of my hot coffee, eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel.  I yawn.   Gosh, I'm tired.

I pull into the parking lot of school.  I hated my job, but I hated the kids more.   Always puking, giggling, leaving their garbage everywhere, expecting me to clean it all up.  They were so rude.

I walk into the school. The lights are bright and illuminate the long, narrow hallways.  I had been here not too long ago, and yet, everything seemed different now.  I walk down the hall to the old, dingy janitor's closet.

The mornings had always been my favorite.  No kids were at school yet.  There was no one to leave a mess.  

Quiet. 

Empty. 

Only a few teachers roam the halls, but they don't give me a second glance.  I'm just the friendly, old janitor.  They don't care about me. They don't suspect me.  Nobody does.  I grin deviously.  I had myself the perfect little cover-up.

I take a seat at the little desk I had set up in the janitor's closet.  My closet. The room still smells of bleach.  The eye-watering odor hangs in the air like a heavy cloud of fog, that flows memories back into my head, but I don't worry.  The smell means nothing to anybody else.   It's not suspicious for a janitor's closet.  I laugh silently to myself.

"Another Kid - Missing. Last Sited - School."

I imagine the dark bolded headlines printed out in fresh ink on all of the daily newspapers and my thin lips curl upwards over my yellow, coffee-stained teeth.  My eyes dart over to the stack of newspaper clippings sitting on the top shelf of my supplies, innocently lying there behind a bottle of Windex, as if the headlines of them didn't read death.  I chuckle silently to myself, as I stand up and grab the stack, stretching my arms until I feel the back of the wall.  I snatch the pile, all articles of the kids I have killed, articles of the lives I got to decide.  I chose when they all ended. I was in control.

I am in control.

The bell rings.  Great.  Kids.  I quickly hide the newspaper clippings back on the shelf behind some cleaning products, and race to the door.  I crack it open and a stampede of students rush past me.  I get a whiff of smelly socks and maple syrup and I almost puke inside my mouth.

"Get out of the way, stupid janitor!" a kid yells in a whiny voice, stepping on my steel toe boots.

Yep, and I was back to being just the innocent, take-advantage-of-me, janitor.  But no one knew.  No one knew what I was capable of.  No one knew the real me, and when they did discover my true identity, it was far too late.

I give him a glare, a warning, but he shrugs it off and keeps on running. I shake my head, almost with pity, but I feel no remorse. My next victim.

...

As you probably noticed, my chapters will be switching from past tense to present time.  So just be aware of that.  I hope everything is easy to follow along.

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